Huffing angrily, Edwin pushed himself up and slightly sideways, trying to find a more comfortable position, then gave up with a sigh. As he watched the waning sun’s orange rays illuminate the eastern face of Giant’s Head in the distance, he realized that lately a large part of his life seemed to consist of sitting in full armor in one forest or another, waiting for the fighting to start.

I wonder if that means anything? Probably not. Welcome to the army, Edwin.

They were north of the mountain, between the fortress and the Marradi siege camp, close enough that the wind carried stray sounds of men yelling and oxen mooing to his unnaturally sensitive ears. Half of their cohort had been broken up into their original adventurer teams once more, then disappeared into the trees to hunt for the Marradi sentries that protected the camp from the exact kind of attack they were planning. Even though 5th division was moving as quickly as they could, if an enemy managed to raise the alarm ahead of time, the attackers would lose the precious element of surprise – which was the only thing making their ambush a realistic endeavor, outnumbered as they were two to one. Still, the sun had already dropped behind the horizon, and nobody knew if the Marradi would continue their assault once it became fully dark.

Edwin cracked his knuckles and sighed. He would’ve much preferred to be with the scouts, hunting for Marradi sentries. He wanted to get better at stealth, and it sounded much more fun than waiting around.

Wait. Fun?

There was a war on. People were dying left and right. Had he really just thought that assassinating unsuspecting Marradi soldiers, ordinary men who had probably been pressed into service, would be fun?

Don’t worry about it, Edwin, it was just the boredom speaking.

“Psst!” he whispered to Bordan, and the other man turned his head. Edwin waved, and the former soldier scooted over. Salissa looked up, leaning in to listen while Leodin didn’t move from where he sat, eyes closed. While the air between the two younger members of the team wasn’t cold enough to freeze water anymore, there was still some tension.

“What?”

“Nothing, I just had a question about Lieutenant Keller.”

Bordan raised his eyebrows. “The scout kid?”

“Yeah. I was just surprised when I heard him talk. Is that normal, that someone like him becomes a scout and crawls through the dirt all day?”

Bordan chuckled. “I know you don’t like nobles, but there are plenty of good ones too, you know? Especially in the army. If he’s a scout, I don’t really care where he comes from or what he talks like.”

“How do you know that he didn’t buy his way in or something?”

“Maybe anywhere else, but not in the scouts,” Bordan whispered, shaking his head. “They’re the most elite unit we have. We’re usually on the defensive, and our heavy infantry moves slower than the Marradi’s, which means we’re completely dependent on our reconnaissance being better than theirs. The scouts don’t take recruits, only men with a few years of service, and even then you need to pass a test. Nobody gets in without it, and the General of the Army personally steps on anyone who tries to mess with it.”

“You make it sound like a big deal.”

“You don’t have to sound so doubtful, it’s the truth,” Bordan said with a smile. “Every young hotshot thinks of becoming a scout, but few people manage it. Been that way forever.”

“Did you want to become a scout as well, then?”

“Sure, when I was just a recruit. By the time I could’ve actually pulled it off I was already part of the 3-1-3, and within 3rd division they have a similar status. The best of the best, that kind of thing. There’s a bit of rivalry too, I guess, so my comrades would’ve considered it a betrayal of the highest order if I’d left them for the scouts.” There was a faraway look in Bordan’s eyes, and he smiled fondly. After a few seconds he returned from wherever or whenever he’d gone, continuing. “Also, I wanted to be in the fight, not just watch it from afar, and scouts usually only look and tell.”

“Watch and snitch,” Leodin offered from the side, eyes still closed, causing chuckles all around. Edwin opened his mouth to respond, then looked up.

“Someone’s coming.”

That someone, as it turned out, was one of the other adventurers, sent back as a messenger. Most of the distance to the enemy camp had now been cleared, and Edwin and his companions stood to move in closer. As they rose, they were copied by the eighty or so remaining adventurers, then third battalion’s four hundred light infantry, and finally their two hundred crossbows. Second battalion, being the single strongest force of their detachment with their full thousand soldiers, was on the opposite side of the siege camp where the other half of the scouts and ninth auxiliary’s second cohort were also working their way ever closer to their unsuspecting foes.

The messenger left them on the back of a small rise, then disappeared back into the trees like a ghost to return to the hunting squads and report that they had moved up. They were close now, so close that nobody thought of talking. Even those without magically enhanced ears could hear the camp, while Edwin, if he concentrated, could make out the conversation two of the sentries were having.

One of them missed home, the other was telling him once all of this was over he’d take him to his favorite brothel in the city. He was in the middle of extolling the virtues of one of the women there when a clarion call from the far side of the camp interrupted them.

“What’s going on?” were the last words of the first, “We’re under attack—” those of the second. Strings snapped, bodies dropped, then there was silence.

“It’s starting,” Edwin said unnecessarily, fist tightening around the glaive’s ornamented hilt.

“Not yet,” Bordan reminded him. “Give them time to turn their defenses toward Meller’s men.”

It was all meticulously planned out. Through what seemed to Edwin like some form of divination, the command staff had decided on the perfect amount of time their attack should be staggered from second battalion’s. Just enough for the defenders to turn toward the attack, but not so much that they had time to think and realized it might be a feint, or even worse, for the other half of their forces to return from Giant’s Head. Edwin would’ve been convinced that they pulled the number out of their collective butts if not for the short but heated debate that resulted in it, where all kinds of metrics were thrown around and someone even drew a diagram.

Either way, the minute and twenty seconds they had to wait felt like a minute and twenty eternities.

Finally, Bordan waved to Helk, and the boy raised his flag and waved it in the prearranged signal. Hundreds of grim-faced men and women rose and slipped toward the edge of the forest.

As Edwin stepped out from under the canopy, falling into a jog as knee-high grass swished around his boots, another horn rang in the evening air, this one much closer. A bolt whistled past him and the noise ceased, but at this point it was irrelevant. With the camp in turmoil, it had only been a question of time until the dead sentries were found. They had never expected to get there completely unchallenged, but they didn’t need to.

The ground was reasonably even, so Edwin picked up the pace. Bordan had admonished him to stop charging ahead several times, but Edwin really didn’t see the point. In his head he’d created a number of concise and logical arguments why he didn’t need to listen to Bordan, though he couldn’t remember any of them now that his blood was boiling and raw mana was burning in his muscles like a furnace. His boots thumped heavily as they ate the distance, and before he knew it he passed between two of the outer wagons, the three soldiers using them as cover from the marksmen watching him hurtle by with wide eyes. He ignored them, continuing into the orderly rows of tents.

Edwin was about to slow down, unwilling to completely lose his friends or get lost in the tent city when a soldier ran out onto the path in front of him. His eyes widened as he spotted the charging figure, then he took flight when Edwin lowered his glaive like a lance and slammed it into the man’s chest. Cries of shock and alarm rose from beside him, as the rest of the dead soldier’s squad, who had been just around the corner, pointed their weapons at Edwin.

They had been moving in a ragged line between the tents as they rushed to where the alarm had been sounded, and Edwin didn’t give them time to fan out. A quick step forward brought him in range for a mighty kick against the first one’s shield, which catapulted him back into his allies, taking down two more in a jumble of limbs. Another soldier stabbed at the giant adventurer, but his movements were too slow. Before the soldier could retract it, Edwin grabbed the spear just behind the point and yanked the man toward him. Not expecting Edwin’s strength, the man stumbled forward before he finally let go, and Edwin curved a hefty punch around the half-raised shield. Bone-plated fist met open helmet, and the soldier dropped.

That left three soldiers still trying to disentangle from one another, slowed by the shields strapped to their arms, while the last one standing stepped in front of his comrades to buy them time. Edwin swung up his glaive, watching almost in slow motion as the soldier’s eyes narrowed and he raised his shield, assuming it would protect him. It didn’t. The ancient weapon fell, air rushing through the space between the stone roots with a musical whistle, then wood splintered and metal screeched. The man screamed, staring in disbelief at the stump where his arm had been.

--- ----- ---

“There you are!” Bordan called, stepping onto the intersection behind Edwin, Salissa and Leodin only a few steps behind him.

Edwin pulled his glaive’s spike from the last soldier’s chest, turning. “There you are. What took you guys?”

“Funny,” Bordan said drily, his eyes scanning the bloody scene. “I told you not to run ahead.”

“You did. Where to?”

Bordan pointed toward the center of the camp. “Supply wagons should be this way, so…”

He trailed off, causing Edwin to follow his eyes. The former soldier was staring past him, down the path the soldiers had come from. It ended in a wall of white canvas, distinct from the grey soldier tents that surrounded them not just in color but also in size. He looked back to Bordan who wore a grim expression.

“Healer tent,” Bordan answered the unspoken question. He raised his spear. “First banner, follow me!”