General Fortella picked up a mug and sipped some tea, turning his attention back to the reports. Some time later, General Whitman pulled out a chair and sat down on the opposite side of the table. General Fortella ignored the Aertan general and continued perusing the reports.
“It’s quite foggy out this morning,” commented General Whitman. “Perhaps it would be better to hold off the column for a couple of hours.”
General Fortella seethed at the cowardly words. Whitman and his men were afraid of everything. The man should never have been made a general. Matching him up with Whitman had probably been Kyrga’s idea of a joke, but Fortella was not laughing. He once again vowed silently to take out his wrath on the Grand General when he returned to Despair.
Despite his inner rage, General Fortella’s voice was calm when he spoke, “I have seen the fog. I watched the advance scouts leave the camp this morning. As for your request, be thankful that your army follows mine. By the time your 24th Corps leaves the camp, the sun will be high in the sky and the fog will have burned off. As for my 2nd Corps, the cavalry has already begun their departure. Now, if you will allow me a period of silence, I would like to finish analyzing these reports.”
Sufficiently rebuffed, General Whitman stood and left the tent. General Fortella continued reading the reports and making notes. After a while, he heard the rousing of the infantry forming up outside the tent. He gathered his papers and stowed them well before the colonel came into the tent to inform him that the last of the 2nd Corps cavalry were leaving the camp.
“Have my horse brought to me,” commanded the general. “I will ride with the cavalry today.”
The Baroukan general prepared himself for battle and stepped out of the tent. He mounted his horse and rode downstream towards the bridge. The infantry companies already packing the path to the bridge stepped aside and made way for the general. Fortella reached the bridge area just as the first infantry company was preparing to start across. The captain of the company saw the general approaching and halted the column so that the general’s crossing would be unimpeded. By the time the general started crossing the bridge, the tail end of the 2nd Corps cavalry was already halfway across.
General Fortella looked down at the swiftly flowing river and the swirling mists above it. Visibility directly over the river was actually better than on the banks, and he glanced upstream and downstream. While gazing downstream, he detected movement out of the corner of his eye on the opposite bank. He frowned as he focused on the wooded bank. He saw a man race out of the forest and throw something at the far end of the bridge. That section of the bridge instantly burst into flames, horses and men screaming out in terror. The general immediately pulled his mount to a halt and stared at the attacker in horror. The man hurled something in his direction. Fortunately for the general, the river was wide, and the attacker’s strength was insufficient to reach entirely across the river. The object struck the wooden planks of the bridge not twenty paces in front of General Fortella, and the planks burst into flames. The general turned his horse and raced off the bridge.
When the general reached the end of the bridge, he dismounted and stormed to the bank of the river. The shouts and cries of his men were clearly heard, and he saw men and horses being pulled downstream by the swift current. What shocked him more than the attack was the sight of some of the bridge planks burning even as they were being carried downstream. The water did not appear to be extinguishing the fire.
“What in the world are we up against?” he muttered to himself.
“I believe it was an elf, General,” said a voice alongside him.
General Fortella turned to see Colonel Tamora beside him. “What are you talking about?”
“The man who threw the objects,” answered the colonel. “He certainly dressed like an elf.”
The general was about to berate the colonel for making wild assumptions about how the unmet Alceans dressed when he suddenly remembered that Colonel Tamora had been to Alcea the previous fall. He would know what local customs the Alceans observed.
“Did you see any elves last fall?”
“No, General,” the colonel shook his head, “but the man was dressed as the elves in Elfwoods dressed. Could the Dielderal have made it all the way to Alcea?”
“It is hard for me to imagine an elf with the courage to expose himself long enough to attack a Federation column, but that is not what I was remarking on when you arrived. Look at the debris floating downstream. It still burns, even when underwater. It must be magic of some kind.”
“And we are without mages,” the colonel stated.
“I am more concerned about being without cavalry,” replied the general as he gazed across the river at the tail end of his two-thousand-man cavalry detachment.
“We still have the cavalry of the 24th Corps,” the colonel said with an air of optimism.
“I will not trust my flanks to Aertan cavalry,” snapped General Fortella. “Find me a way to get across this river, and be quick about it.”
* * * *
Princess Rhula of the Elderal elves watched the general of the Federation army turn tail and run from the burning bridge. She smiled broadly.
“An unexpected surprise, brother,” she said softly to Prince Garong beside her. “Did you see him scurry away from the bridge? Too bad we didn’t wait just a moment longer. The enemy column would be crippled by the loss of its leader.”
“The timing was perfect for accomplishing our goal,” replied the Knight of Alcea as he stirred his fairy to life. “The Baroukan cavalry has been isolated. Now it is time to kill them.”
Sprout shot upward to Prince Garong’s shoulder and rubbed his sleepy eyes. “Is it killing time already?” he asked. “I feel as if I just closed my eyes.”
“It is time,” nodded the elven prince. “Carry word to the others and be swift about it.”
“I will spread the word faster than an elven arrow,” vowed the fairy.
Sprout shot up into the canopy and disappeared. Prince Garong watched the near end of the bridge to see what the tail end of the cavalry column would do. He expected a certain amount of confusion as to whether they should follow the vanguard or stay near the river until a new way across could be established. He was not disappointed. Loud arguing broke out among the riders, and one rider was sent towards the vanguard to report on the bridge’s destruction. Two squads were assigned to ride along the banks of the river in opposite directions seeking another bridge or a ford. The rest of the small group, which Prince Garong estimated to be about one-hundred men, dismounted and remained by the burning bridge. The elven prince turned to his sister.
“It is time to go,” declared the Knight of Alcea.
“What about the scouting parties coming along the bank of the river?” asked Princess Rhula. “You intend to leave them alive?”
“The cavalry column is over half a league long,” replied the prince. “You will have plenty of soldiers to kill without endangering yourself so close to the bulk of the enemy. Leave the scouts alone.”
Princess Rhula pouted, but she nodded obediently. The two elves faded deeper into the forest and disappeared.
* * * *
Captain Plaggor was a member of the 2nd Corps cavalry, and his place in the cavalry column was somewhere in the middle. He usually enjoyed the early morning rides as he found it exciting to be among the first Zarans to explore this part of Alcea, but the morning’s fog had dampened his spirit. He could see a fair distance ahead of him, but the fog appeared thicker along the sides of the road. He could see the first couple of rows of trees, but nothing else. He slumped down in his saddle and prepared for a boring ride.
Soon he heard shouting from behind him and he turned in his saddle to see what the commotion was. At first he could see nothing because of the fog, but he eventually understood the commotion. A rider was trying to reach the vanguard, but the column already took up all of the road. The riders shouted curses at the man, but he seemed to care little as he forced his way between files. Captain Plaggor intentionally moved closer to the rider next to him to make the hurried man’s passage a little easier. After the rider had passed, the captain resumed his normal position.