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Strategy on Huade consists of protecting bases with arrayed magic resources and defending them, or sending your forces to besiege the enemy’s defended places. The battle at the Greenwater that I took part in was such a thing, albeit on a grander scale than usual. Between such battles are marches and counter-marches, seeking to flank the opponent and catch them in open-field battles that often resemble eighteenth century linear tactics, except with battle lines that meet in close quarter combat resembling medieval warfare.
Except it’s medieval warfare without heavy cavalry. Knights in full plate on horseback are a thing of the far distant past. Single knights roaming around the battlefield are too easy for mages to target. Instead, fast-moving, lightly-equipped groups of archers and lancers, resembling Genghis Khan’s army and the Light Horse Brigade respectively, raid and reconnoiter.
In the air, reconnaissance flights and aerial attackers threaten the enemy’s ground forces, while aerial fighters like the Royal Air Lancers try to shoot down the enemy’s recon flights and aerial attackers. The aerial fighters also look to do battle with each other. There are no strategic bombing forces. Aerial bombs exist, in the form of magic devices, but they are too expensive to employ in carpet-bombing tactics. They are used one at a time, for precision attacks by daring riders of dive-bombing flying beasts.
In short, the presence of magic and flying mounts has made warfare evolve very differently in this world.
Ahead of us, on the outskirts of the large military camp that was our destination, the defenders stood arrayed in a broad battle line against a mixed group. The camp had magic shields as expected, but the defenders had sallied outside anyway, for some reason. Only the reserves remained behind the defenses.
The attacking regiments on the flanks, holding back, were normal ground forces, as were the reserves waiting in the distance, but a group that was anything but normal filled the center.
“Are those orcs?” Aenëe asked in astonishment.
My eyesight is really good, almost on par with my hearing, but it wasn’t quite good enough to tell the species involved. All I could tell was that they were irregular forces, with some large beasts included.
Surprised at her, I looked over to see she had some sort of Light magic working, covering her eyes like goggles. It was probably a fairy spell I had never seen before, since I had heard no chanting and saw no magic device operating.
I answered, “I don’t know the magnification magic you’re using, so I’ll take your word for it. How many?”
“It looks like a whole battalion!” she said, still flummoxed. “Orcs and hellhounds!”
I stared at her for several heartbeats while processing the information. Scattered bands of orcs dwell in the Dragonsbacks, especially in the north, but a battalion, strength in the several hundreds… there aren’t enough orcs in our part of the world for numbers like that. And those larger shapes with them were hellhounds, monster dogs the size of small elephants?
“Mercenaries,” I guessed. “They’ve been coming into the empire from the Far West, ever since things fell apart. Monstrous tribes are a lot more common out there.”
“Or perhaps that asura is controlling them?”
“Controlling a whole battalion at once?” I shook my head. “That should be too much even for her. Orcs will fight for money, so mercenaries make more sense. Or they might have submitted to the demons.”
Orcs are monsters, not demons, but the history books say they worked for demons in the past.
“Shall we go deal with them?” she asked, looking like she relished the idea.
“No,” I answered. “We’ll use stealth, enter camp and meet up with the prince. I see no enemy fairy and the line is holding just fine. The Orestanians probably sallied in force to drive the enemy off. Let’s not cause confusion. Plus, it might be better not to advertise our presence just yet.”
She nodded and touched a medallion attached to her belt. She became invisible to normal eyesight, and showed only faintly to my fairy sight. It was a really good tool, almost certainly the same one she’d used in our previous meeting. But I could sense her spiritual presence as a ghostly image.
I used Vampire Cloak. Her eyes grew and she shook her head.
“I can’t see you at all, My Lady,” she admitted. “I won’t be able to follow. Shall I lead?”
Certainly, I sent in spiritual voice, causing her to gasp. I continued, I’m able to sense you.
“I know,” she nodded ruefully. “You did before, remember?”
I had the vague sense that she was shaking her head as she flew in a straight line toward the army camp. Then I heard her muttering to herself.
“Mama said she’s just a fairborn teenager. Is this really the girl she told me about?”
It was quiet enough that I’m certain she didn’t mean for me to hear it. I decided to keep the fact that she was letting her thoughts leak to myself.
One normally doesn’t encounter a continuous area shield like Lord Moram of Greenwater, the ancient vodyanoy mage, built around his wetlands, or like the massive valley shield of Tëan Tír. The materials required are astronomically expensive due to their rarity, and the expertise required is far beyond what the standard-issue combat mage is capable of providing.
For a normal Army operation, combat mages maintain the charges of smaller, more practical directional shields, providing defense where it is needed and arranging them in numbers to protect larger areas.
In this case, they built a complete defense, mounting a line of shields along the physical stockade around the perimeter, overlapping them to create a continuous defense. The ‘ceiling’ was a tent of overlapping shields projected from devices mounted at the top of posts which stood throughout the camp, also raising magic lamps to provide security lighting. It was expensive, but appropriate for a large army’s brain center.
The Orestanians currently controlled a wide area of Eastern Hamagaar, following the coast and the main trade route from Thuriben into Hamagaar. They had bypassed Cara Ita and the minor route to the south that I had followed. Unable to conquer the little city near Hamagaar’s eastern border yet, they were now cutting it off from the rest of Hamagaar by marching southward to the west of it to surround it.
This current battle wasn’t yet the armies at their full strength. The Hamagaarans had sent a raid of regimental strength to harass the Orestanian command, hoping to force them to consolidate here. The Orestanians had mustered a defense of similar strength. Other regiments or legions on both sides should be converging here while the forces on-hand fought.
The Orestanians had left openings in the shield wall through the simple expedient of shutting down the tools in certain spots. These would allow reserves to come out or the deployed troops to retreat. They weren’t visible to mortal eyes, but fairy sight could see them just fine.
Aenëe flew along the south side of the camp, the side facing the battle, then passed through one of the openings. I followed her in, quickly climbing just like she did in order to avoid running into the reserve troops standing in ranks there, ready to deploy. We passed just over their heads, making a straight line for the gate into the camp.
To my surprise, I noticed one combat mage’s eyes tracking me as I passed. Her eyes were narrowed, suggesting that she was only catching a hint of my presence, but just in case she could see me, I winked while putting my index finger up to my lips in a shushing gesture.
I had seen her slightly odd aura and her hooded cloak before. I noticed the ax-bearing dwarf next to her as I passed them and identified them. I had just spotted Mirna and Gunathir, a couple more members of the Royal Academy’s demon patrol. They had been partners then, as well.
With the ability to see me, she must be a heck of mage for a mortal. Although that odd aura made me wonder if she actually was mortal. Perhaps she was a half-fairy or monster who had learned to stealth her mana while leaving herself visible?
Inside the camp, we passed over a field of tents. I’m sure Aenëe was doing the same thing I was, using her fairy sense as she flew, scanning for something like a command tent.
We didn’t find it, but we found an observation platform at the center of the stockade wall facing the battle. Observers with spy glasses stood on it, along with soldiers with semaphore flags and others with magic communication tools. They would be sending vital battle information while coordinating with mages using scrying orbs and other devices.
It didn’t look even remotely as slick as the practically twenty-first century command operation I had seen in Greenwater. I reminded myself I needed to get Orestanian observers out there to learn how they did things while our alliance with the Amaga tribe was still in force.
Beyond the magic shields, the Orestanian side had just succeeded in driving back the orc warriors and were now returning to their line, rather than pushing too far ahead of their supporting flanks. The orc attack had likely been a feint to put the Orestanian line in disarray, but it hadn’t worked.
Three officers were coordinating the observer group on the platform. I didn’t see Prince Ged, but I decided this was as good a place as anywhere to reveal myself.
It became quickly clear from their chatter that this wasn’t the command center for the battle, but rather a group attached to the camp defense. But it was good enough to get me started.
I took up a position in the air to the side of the observation platform, taking care not to obstruct anyone’s view of the battle, and uncloaked.
Aenëe stayed hidden for the time being. She probably felt we shouldn’t cause the mortals any more stress than necessary.
“Greetings, Captain!” I called out to the highest ranking officer on the platform.
His and several other heads whipped around. They saw me and paled, but my sword wasn’t drawn and I was simply hovering there rather than threatening. I pinched my mini-skirt and gave a brief curtsey, then raised my voice slightly higher and barked an order.
“Attend to your battle! I only addressed the captain!”
Paling more, the others instantly got back to their work. The captain moved to the edge of the platform and saluted.
“Alvar Macias, Royal Army, at your service, My Lady!” he declared crisply. His Northern accent was thick, suggesting he was from a niche that spoke the old Northern tongue rather than the Ostish which the majority now spoke.
I returned his salute, then stated, “I am Tiana of the High Forest, fighting in service to His Majesty, King Owen. I am here to meet with His Highness, Prince Gerald. Where might I find him?”
I didn’t call myself ‘Tiana Pendor of the Royal Knights’ because I was wearing my armor. When I’m equipped this way, fairy knight etiquette takes precedence.
He hesitated, possibly thinking he shouldn’t just voluntarily give up that information. It was only for a moment, though. I watched the realization that opposing a fairy knight wouldn’t be smart dawn on his face.
“He’s forward right now, My Lady,” he admitted.
My eyes grew slightly. My voice sharpening, I replied, “You mean the First Prince of the Realm is out there, exposed to the enemy?”
“My Lady, he is in command here…” he protested, but I didn’t have time to listen to him.
“Show me his location!” I demanded.
I know it was probably a little childish of me, but all I could think at that moment was that my big brother, a member of the family that was Tiana’s whole motivation for becoming a knight in the first place, was in serious danger.
“Reporting!” a girl with a magic tool pressed to her ear called out before I could have my answer. “Threat alert from Third Support Magic company! Heavy mana signature, five hundred paces to the enemy’s rear! Approaching at marching speed!”
