Less than an hour later, the land widened around the road. The cavalry squad halted to survey the land. It was a grassy meadow, though quite damp underfoot. Colonel Dukirk dismounted as did the other riders. When the colonel stepped off the relatively hard surface of the road, his boots sank just a bit in the muck. He shook his head in disgust and sighed once again.
“It’s better than nothing,” commented the squad leader.
“Barely,” conceded the colonel. “Send one of your men back to General Pryblick to inform him that today’s march will be a bit longer than normal. He will want an accurate estimate of the distance so he can pace the infantry appropriately.”
The squad leader nodded and summoned one of his men. He quietly instructed the soldier and sent him on his way before returning to the colonel.
“Do you think the ground will dry any under the brunt of the sun?” asked the colonel. “I have no practical experience with swamps.”
“Nor do I,” admitted the squad leader. “The only sizeable swamp in Zara is on the western side of the Barrier. I have never been there, but I think the men should expect damp ground tonight.”
A violent splash caught the attention of the two men, and they both whirled towards the sound. They gaped at the sight of a giant reptile with a cavernous mouth full of long, sharp teeth. The creature must have felt foreign eyes upon it because it closed its mouth and slithered off into the water.
“What was that?” gasped the squad leader.
“I don’t know,” the colonel said in a whisper, “but it does not give me a warm feeling about our campsite. That thing looked as if it could swallow a man whole.”
“That would be far less painful that what I was envisioning,” quaked the squad leader. “Did you see the teeth on that? It could rip the belly out of a horse with one bite.”
Colonel Dukirk nodded as he eased towards his horse. “I am going to check further north. Perhaps there is drier ground within a reasonable distance.”
The squad leader whistled to get his men’s attention as he hurried after the colonel. “We will join you. We are, after all, supposed to be protecting you.”
Colonel Dukirk smiled inwardly at the squad leader’s devotion to duty. He knew that that the man was fearful of remaining near the giant reptile, and he did not blame him. Such monsters were unheard of. The cavalry squad rode for another hour before halting once again. The road through the swamp had narrowed within minutes of leaving the campsite, and it had not widened again. Now, an hour north of the campsite, the road ended.
“This cannot be,” scowled the colonel. “We must have missed a turn somewhere.”
“We missed no turns,” replied the squad leader. “This road might be fine in drier weather, but I suspect that springtime is not the right time to be here. We are trapped.”
“Worse than that,” frowned the colonel. “The whole 8th Corps and 12th Corps are trapped. General Pryblick will be furious.”
“I could send a rider to get him to turn around right now,” offered the squad leader.
Colonel Dukirk glanced up at the sun and shook his head. “It is too late for that. The vanguard is already on the narrowest stretch of road. General Pryblick will not encamp the army there. He will continue on to the wider area for the army to settle in for the night. We have just lost two days out of the five allotted to us to reach Tagaret.”
“And then what?” asked the squad leader. “How are we supposed to get to Tagaret?”
“That is something that we will have to get the locals to tell us,” answered the colonel. “I suspect that we will return to the main road tomorrow and march south into Danver Shores. General Pryblick will take his wrath out on the local population until they tell him the shortest route to Tagaret. It will not be a pretty sight to behold. He may literally destroy the entire city.”
Chapter 29
Fire and Water
General Ruppert rode in the vanguard of Team Elmor as the long column of Federation soldiers stretched out along the road under Hun-lo Heights. It was his fifth day in Alcea, and he was troubled by the total lack of natives. During their journey, they had not seen a single Lanoirian, and that struck the general as far too odd for coincidence.
“Something is wrong, Mayne,” the general said to the colonel riding alongside him. “I could easily understand not running into some locals when the road passed through fields of grain or forests. The few people in the area might have been off tending to crops or keeping out of the forests for some reason, but this section of the journey is nothing but road. Surely, we should have come across a stray merchant or some travelers heading to a distant city, but we have not. What was this section of road like last fall when you visited here?”
The colonel did not respond, and the general glanced at him. Colonel Mayne was staring at the wall of the cliff as if in a daze. General Ruppert reached out and touched the other officer. The colonel started and turned his face towards the general.
“What intrigues you so about a stone wall?” questioned the general. “You did not even hear me talking to you.”
“I apologize, General. I guess I was lost in my thoughts.”
“So you were,” the general replied with a touch of disappointment in his voice. “You need to remember that we are in hostile territory. Stay alert.”
The colonel nodded, his eyes flickering towards the wall again. “What were you saying?”
“I was remarking about the total lack of people in this country. Didn’t you say that Lanoir was very populous?”
“It is, General. Lanoir has more people than all of the other Alcean provinces combined.”
“Then where are they?” inquired the general. “We have been on this road for five days now, and we have not seen one single person.”
“That is strange,” agreed the colonel, “but it is springtime. Lanoir is an agricultural country. I suspect the people are all out in the fields.”
“All of them?” balked the general. “That is preposterous. Where are the merchants? The everyday travelers? The army patrols? Are there no messengers or couriers?”
The colonel frowned. “The portals were appropriately placed specifically to avoid people, but I agree. We should have seen at least a few people on the trip.” The colonel’s eyes flickered to the wall again, and the general noticed.
“What is the distraction that keeps dividing your attention?” demanded the general.
“The pipe,” the colonel replied without taking his eyes off of it. “It was not here last fall, and I cannot figure out what it is for. Who would run a pipe along the cliff face league after league? And for what purpose?”
“Perhaps it is for drainage of some kind,” the general replied dismissively. “Keep focused on the greater problem. Can you think of any reason for the lack of people on this road?”
Suddenly, hundreds of tiny pops echoed along the road and a clear liquid began leaking out of the bamboo pipe. The general stared at the leaky pipe and then raised his eyes skyward. There was not a cloud in the sky, and his brow creased in confusion. He looked back down at the road and stared at the quickly spreading liquid.
“Do they irrigate the fields on top of these cliffs?” he asked the colonel.
“I do not know,” confessed the colonel as he watched the liquid covering the road. “I have never been up there. I suppose it is possible.” Colonel Mayne’s eyes followed the spreading liquid. They focused on the ocean side of the road where a small berm stopped the liquid from flowing into the sea. He shook his head in confusion. “I do not recall seeing that berm last fall,” he remarked. “It seems foolish to have such an obstruction to drainage on a coastal road.”
“This is not water flooding the road!” the general said with alarm. “Smell it!”
The colonel sniffed the air. His brow creased with alarm. “Lamp oil? That makes no sense.”