“I know of no king whose word can be trusted,” retorted General Barbone. “I only believe in what I can see and feel. When you can prove your words, we will talk again.”
“If proof is what you need,” shrugged the governor, “then proof you shall have. Will it make a difference if you learn the true fate of the other teams? Will you surrender then?”
“General Omirro is team leader,” replied General Barbone. “It is his decision to surrender or fight.”
“Do the lives of the men of the 22nd Corps not matter to you? Do you consign their fate to the whims of an Ertakan?”
“That is harsh,” scowled the general. “My men matter a great deal to me, but I am only a participant in a team effort. It is Omirro who leads this team.”
“You are a general of an army,” countered the governor, “and you are responsible for the welfare of your men. That is not a responsibility that you can consign to others, whether it be a team leader or even a king. If you are not prepared to stand for them, you should resign and let them be led by one who will stand for them.”
The governor turned his horse and rode away. General Barbone watched him leave, a frown clouding the Spinoan’s face. He felt as if his father had just given him a stern lecture, yet the Sordoan was no older than the general was. He shook his head and turned his horse to return to his troops.
* * * *
Four arrows streaked out of the trees alongside the Barouk-Ongchi Road, and four Federation soldiers of the 25th Corps of Aerta fell to the ground. Howls of outrage sounded throughout the column, and a Federation captain disobeyed his orders.
“Kill them!” shouted the captain as he raised his sword and charged into the woods.
The entire company followed their captain, although many of the men were weary and afraid. One-hundred soldiers ran into the forest, shouts of revenge ripping from their throats. The shouted war cries only helped to cover the sounds of snapping bowstrings as the Lanoirians fired without mercy. Within seconds the shouting died, replaced with the moans of the wounded.
Colonel Potter of the 25th Corps raced along the road and halted in the gap in the column created by the absence of an entire company. He gazed into the forest and shook his head in disgust. The captain of the next company in the column halted when he reached the colonel. The colonel turned and glared at him.
“How many times must I tell you not to leave the road?” he bellowed.
“My company is still here,” retorted the captain, “but just barely. The men will not stand for being used as targets, Colonel. If they are going to die, they want to at least engage the enemy.”
“And die like them?” the colonel shouted as he pointed towards the woods. “The Lanoirians are trying to get us to do exactly what that fool did. The next captain that defies my orders will die by my own sword.”
The captain opened his mouth to retort, but the colonel’s rage made him think better of speaking his mind.
“And close up the gap in the column,” shouted the colonel.
Colonel Potter stepped off the road to let the column pass by. He stared into the woods, hoping to see some of the ambushed men straggle out of the trees. After a while, he sighed with despair as the forest remained silent. With determination, he turned and started running towards the front of the column. As he passed by the column, he sharply reminded each captain of the need to stay on the road. Eventually he reached the vanguard of the 25th Corps, but General Gertz was not there. He was informed that the general had gone forward to speak with General Kolling. Colonel Potter continued forward. Eventually, he ran into Colonel Ednor of the 9th Corps of the Empire of Barouk. The Baroukan colonel looked at his Aertan counterpart and frowned. He waved Colonel Potter to his side and urged him to walk for a while.
“What brings you forward?” asked Colonel Ednor.
“The Lanoirian sniping,” answered Colonel Potter. “We just lost another company. Something must be done about it.”
“Another company?” questioned the Baroukan colonel. “Are the Lanoirians staging attacks on the column?”
“They are sniping the column,” answered Colonel Potter. “They are trying to provoke a reaction, and they are succeeding. I have lost two companies already, and the rest of the men are ready to surge into the forest at the slightest provocation. The snipers must be killed.”
“General Kolling remains adamant on the subject,” replied Colonel Ednor. “We are to ignore the sniping.”
“It cannot be ignored,” Colonel Potter scowled, his voice rising in anger. “The men are being killed as they march along the road. Doesn’t the general know what that can do to morale? It is the mentality of retreat. The men feel as if we are a broken army.”
Colonel Ednor sighed and nodded. “I understand,” he said calmly, “but the Lanoirians seek to delay us. The city of Ongchi stands before us, undefended. General Kolling is determined to seize the city before the Lanoirians can rally to defend it. If that means losing a few men to sniping, it is a small price to pay.”
“Unless you are one of those men,” spat the Aertan colonel. “Perhaps if it were your companies falling to their deaths you might look at things differently, but that is not the case. It is Aertans dying to the snipers, not Baroukans. If you will excuse me, I need to speak to General Gertz.”
The Aertan colonel ran forward. Colonel Ednor frowned as he watched his fellow officer leave, the man’s departing words bouncing through his mind. He wondered if the Lanoirians were clever enough to concentrate their attacks on the Aertans simply to feed a rivalry that already existed between the two Zaran nations. With that thought in his mind, he started running after the Aertan colonel. When they eventually reached the generals, they found them in the vanguard, which had halted at the edge of a large, open valley.
Colonel Ednor was puzzled by the halt in the column. He gazed down into the valley and saw nothing alarming. As his eyes followed the road up the opposite hill, he saw mounds of dirt indicative of trenches just below the ridge. He nodded in understanding as he walked over to where the generals were talking.
“We need to know their strength before attacking,” stated General Gertz. “We have no idea what we are facing.”
“We are facing the remnants of the small force that attacked our rear,” scoffed General Kolling. “There can’t be more than a thousand of them up there. This is another of their feeble attempts to slow us down. We will smash our way through their crude defenses and march over their corpses. They will not slow this army down.”
“They are already slowing us down,” countered General Gertz. “This column is stopped. By the time the rear gathers here for the attack, we will have lost half a day.”
“I do not need the Aertans to break through this rabble of an army,” scowled General Kolling. “Your men can continue to leisurely stroll along the road.”
“Leisurely stroll along the road?” Colonel Potter echoed with outrage. “We Aertans are dying while you Baroukans march in safety.”
General Kolling whirled angrily towards the Aertan colonel.
“If you can’t control your men under march, Colonel,” scowled the Baroukan general, “then General Gertz ought to replace you with someone who can. The loss of a few men is insignificant in the grand scheme of things.”
“I am not talking about a few men,” retorted Colonel Potter. “We have lost over three-hundred men today to snipers, and the day isn’t even half over.”
General Kolling turned to General Gertz, his face red with rage. “Handle your men, Gertz,” he snapped. “I do not have time for petty grievances.”
The Baroukan general walked away from the Aertans, signaling for Colonel Ednor to follow him. The colonel promptly obeyed and the two officers stood on the ridgeline in the center of the road.