“Did I ever tell you I hate surprises?” Bordan grumbled as he stumbled through the woods after Edwin. While Edwin could see reasonably well, to the former soldier the space between the fires was an impenetrable wall of blackness.

“You know, you probably have,” Edwin responded happily. “You’re going to like this one, though. I did offer for you to guess it; you could’ve done that too.”

“I hate guessing even more!” Bordan groused, barely catching himself from tripping as he unexpectedly stepped onto the road. He realized Edwin had stopped and looked around. “So, what is it?”

“Here they come,” Edwin replied, pointing down eastwards the road. A number of dark figures were coming toward them, talking among themselves. As they passed the closest fire, the shadows revealed two dirty, tired-looking men in scout leathers and cloaks, surrounded by half a squad of light infantry.

“Ho there,” Edwin greeted them as they approached. “Looks like your watch got a little more exciting tonight.”

“Evening, Edwin,” one of the soldiers greeted him, although Edwin had no idea where he might know him from. “The scouts shadowing the enemy sent back messengers. We’re escorting them to the general.”

“We’ll tag along if you don’t mind,” Edwin said. “Should save some poor soul the trouble of having to find us.”

Naturally, they didn’t mind, so the two adventurers fell in step behind the group. General Asher’s camp wasn’t too far from the front of the column, so it didn’t take them too long to get there. His fire looked just like everyone else’s, except for the dark ring of clear space separating it from second battalion’s camp that surrounded it, and a few of the general’s personal guards that stood with their backs to it, looking menacing. After the scouts’ identities were confirmed, they were ushered into the warmth of the flames, the escort returning to their post. The scouts were looking worn, and sitting by the warm fire and eating the offered food caused the eyes of the younger of the two to start drooping almost immediately. A few minutes later, the rest of the command staff arrived and they began.

“After the ambush at the bridge, the enemy quickly abandoned the pursuit of our forces,” the older of the scouts began his report. “They tried to extinguish the fires but quickly realized that most of the wagons were too far gone and the flames were starting to spread to the surrounding trees. There was panic at first, then a group of mages began pushing the burning wagons off the road with magic, and that rallied the troops. It still took a while to work their way through it, and by the time they were clear of the fires it was already morning. They stopped for a little while, maybe half an hour, but then they kept moving, likely because they spotted the fires spreading behind them. They kept marching throughout the first day, then finally made camp a few hours west of here, where this road meets the one that runs from north to south.”

The war council was hanging onto the scout’s every word. Ever since the night of the ambush three days ago they hadn’t had any information on their enemy’s whereabouts. As Edwin had learned, there were few things scarier in war than being unaware of your enemy’s actions.

“They stayed there for a full day yesterday, likely to let their troops rest and take stock of their supplies. Security was lax so we tried to get close, but we had to abort before we got any useful information. Today, they set off southward along the road to Giant’s Head. We stayed on them for a little while to make sure that they wouldn’t change their mind, then the lieutenant sent us two back to report.”

“The rest of the banner is fine?” Colonel Harrick asked, obviously worried about the men under his command.

“Yes, colonel, the only time one of our teams was spotted, they managed to evade before they could be caught.”

“So we know that they are marching south with about a day’s lead, but we are unaware of their intentions,” Asher said, looking thoughtful. “They could bypass Giant’s Head entirely and march straight for Artelby to resupply, or they could decide to attack our fortress instead. Thoughts, people?”

The gathered officers were quiet for a few seconds, then Colonel Meller spoke up.

“They could be intending either one. It depends on their supply situation, but also on their morale and the disposition of their leadership, information we simply do not have. I suggest we plan for an attack on Giant’s Head, as we might be completely unable to catch them if they decide to march past it without stopping.”

“Lieutenant Kerre will send another team back once it becomes clear what their next move will be,” the older scout jumped in, and Asher nodded.

“Very well, then all we can do is keep going and wait for his next report. Let us adjourn for the night, we need to start moving early if we wish to catch up to our quarry.”

--- ----- ---

The next day, much like the previous one, was filled with a whole lot of marching and very little else. Thankfully the rain had mostly stopped, and after they reached the junction where they turned south, the sun even graced them with its presence for a few hours. That was very welcome indeed, as the atmosphere in the party could best be described as frigid. In the morning, Salissa had confronted Leodin about his strange behavior the night before, which he’d dismissed in a rude and flippant manner. Combined with her lack of success regarding her telekinesis training, the young mage was in a positively foul mood. Edwin thanked the gods that their ridiculous performance had nothing to do with him and decided to ignore it completely to not let it ruin his day.

As evening came, a nervous energy began to permeate the camp. By now, Lindvar Division had to have reached Giant’s Head and either kept going or stopped to fight. What they had chosen to do would decide if 5th division would fight soon or not. Finally, in the early hours of the morning, a runner approached the party’s fire to shake Bordan awake. The scouts had sent their next messengers.

--- ----- ---

“Yesterday evening they stopped at Giant’s Head and began building siege equipment.”

The statement hung in the air, settling like a weight on the gathered soldiers until the call of an early bird broke the spell.

“Where did they encamp? What kind of siege equipment?” Asher asked.

“Near the road, northeast of the fortress, outside of ballista range. Best we could tell they were working on ladders, but we departed soon after they had begun settling in. They could’ve started catapults after we left.”

“Catapults won’t do much against Giant’s Head,” Meller said, shaking his head. “But neither will ladders. It was purposefully designed to keep the Volarki from climbing it. Even if their siege weapons get destroyed by fireballs, the defenders should easily hold for at least a week.”

Edwin sighed. With the masters back at the train and the only magical support they had a few young Journeymen, there was nobody here to advise the command staff on matters of the arcane. Well, he could probably get away with it at this point.

“The answer is magic,” he spoke up, drawing all eyes. “Giant’s Head is considered unassailable because it’s mostly built from magestone. While it’s true that non-magical means can barely scratch it, it won’t pose much of an obstacle to a team of capable mages. What was built by magic can be destroyed by magic. If their mages are willing to climb up rickety siege ladders, they’ll be able to cut handholds or even stairs or entire holes into the outside of the mountain, all the way up to the shooting floor. On the ground, they can do the same with the walls and obstacles that block the corridor leading inside. Given enough time, they can dismantle every advantage the defenders have and allow the Marradi to bring their superior numbers to bear.”

Again, shocked silence descended onto the small clearing.

“How long?” someone asked.

“Impossible to say,” Edwin answered, shrugging. “It depends mostly on how willing their mages are to put themselves in danger, as they’ll have to get close to do their work. Also, they’ll likely need to use up some of their mana for fireballs to suppress the ballistae on the shooting floor again. Worst case scenario, one day. Most likely two to three.”

“How far behind are we?” Asher asked the scout.

“We left yesterday evening, so we should reach Giant’s Head in a little over half a day.”

The general nodded, his expression a mask of determination. “Let the men sleep until sunrise. They will need their strength, as today will test us both in body and mind.”