count. v. intr
1. To recite or list numbers in order or enumerate items by units or groups.
2. To have importance or value.
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The battle had started with the annihilation of an isolated Tinto unit, but it was going to end as a rout. Surrounded by her bodyguard, Chris was spared the engulfing, consuming clashes with enemy soldiers, and so able to concentrate on the larger flow of the battle. She wasn't spared the sounds; the occasional ring of steel or pained cry that stood out against the background cacophony made her jaw tighten and stomach clench. The battle conducted her pulse fitfully, making it pound at nearby fighting, then letting it slow only to set it racing again when arrows tore past. Smells assaulted her, as well - the sweat of men and horses, the stink of iron, the whiff of ozone that accompanied magic, and the sour smell of churned mud.
Chris wiped sweat from her forehead with a grimy sleeve, cursing herself for a fool. The lone unit had been a guerilla band, one that moved quickly and left Zexen camps in disarray, creating chaos and endless frustration for the high command. The casualties they had inflicted were small compared to pitched battle, but every death was an empty place at some table in Zexen, a pair of feet that would never cross its home's threshold again. Not to mention the loss of supplies - food, medicine, horses - that would've saved other soldiers. Deaths in war were often senseless, but that didn't make them any less bitter a loss.
So, when an advance scout stumbled upon the guerilla unit while Chris's command was on its way to rendezvous with the rest of the army, the chance to put an end to their raids had been tempting. Too tempting.
Chris Lightfellow had taken the bait, and now her men were going to die for her mistake. More empty places at tables.
The Tinto unit should have surrendered at once; they were grossly outmatched, facing a full two-fifths of Zexen's strength, and the miles of surrounding flat plains were empty of reinforcements. Strangely, they stubbornly refused several times, and the battle was much longer - and more gruesome - than it needed to be. Chris and Borus had been grimacing over the carnage, their horses picking their way around bodies of Tinto and Zexen, when Tinto's regular army charged out of nowhere, surrounding them. Even Salome and the Third company, well off to the rear, were swept in by Tinto's rush.
An ambush like that, on plains where one could see for miles, could mean only one thing: the Lizards were letting Tinto use their underground highways. Zexen could very soon be fighting a war on both its major borders.
Assuming they survived the current battle, Chris thought sourly. Her horse sidled nervously beneath her as she ducked a stray arrow. The near miss brought a surge of adrenaline and she surveyed the battlefield again in the accompanying frenetic awareness.
On the field was two-fifths of Zexen's army, and at the moment they were hemmed in on three sides by half again their number. Further ahead, their forces had been split, Tinto encircling both groups in a broken figure eight. The far loop was completely closed, trapping three of Zexen's companies - about one hundred fifty men. A glimpse of red and purple at that group's center told Chris exactly why she hadn't been able to find her strategist in the fray.
Chris cursed profusely, and her eyes fell on an infantryman who'd lost his pike. He dodged the Tinto horseman bearing down on him by what looked like inches, only to be staggered by a blow to the head. Chris winced in sympathy, hoping the dizziness would clear quickly.
Ahead of him was another clash: two horsemen traded blows, most of which seemed to be landing painfully home. Gritting her teeth, Chris pushed aside the nauseous realization that she was probably one of the last to see either man alive and lifted her eyes to scan the horizon. Percival, Roland, and Leo were on their way, each with a sizable number of men - they'd been intending to regroup, before Chris had fallen for Tinto's trap. The addition of any one of them would be enough to turn the tide. But it was impossible to know if their arrival was a matter of minutes, hours, or days.
And if Tinto managed to close the gap...
"Break for the gap and try to outflank them," Chris shouted to the soldiers around her. Erfrierung tossed his head at her outburst, pulling forcefully at the reins, but she kept a firm grip on them. "We're going keep it open and buy time for the Third Company." She scanned the nearest knights for one with a fresher-looking horse. "You! Erran! Get to Borus and tell him to form a wedge with his group. We need to get the Third free, and then we're getting out of here!"
Chris watched as her orders rippled outwards, knights moving as the information reached them. Infantry, already fighting along both of Tinto's closing arms, were joined by cavalry. They spilled around the ends of Tinto's lines, trapping them in smaller versions of the same figure eight Tinto was trying to close on them.
Exhaling loudly, Chris turned Erfrierung around to see a wedge was already forming near the thinnest part of the line that had cut off the Third, Fifth, and Twelfth companies and Salome. Thank the Goddess Erran's horse had been fast.
The beleaguered companies were throwing themselves at the line as best they could; Salome had seen Borus's and her maneuvers. But Tinto hadn't left them much space, and the fighting was heavy at their rear. It was going to depend on Borus.
A cry of warning from her left brought her attention abruptly to her immediate surroundings. A Tinto horseman had made his way through Chris's bodyguard and was fighting one of her knights. As she turned to look, the horseman's sword found the part of the Zexen's arm that wasn't protected by plate mail. Chris winced as her man dropped his sword with a shout, his arm falling to hang uselessly at his side.
There was scarcely any time to wonder if he might survive the battle, if he'd lose the arm. The Tinto horseman had reached her, and her sword rose to meet his. His momentum took him directly to her side; she unhorsed him, her breath jarring in her chest as Erfrierung lurched forward to finish the job with his hooves.
Chris looked up just in time to see Borus's wedge charge the Tinto line. The captain held her breath, and her horse twitched beneath her. For a moment it looked like it would work. Then Borus and the men around him broke from their lines, and Tinto's forces spilled in from the sides, into the space behind them. The lines closed around Borus's group like a thin-lipped mouth. Zexen soldiers spilled over in either direction as it chewed its overbig mouthful, the better part of them getting away, rejoining Chris's group or reaching Salome and the Third. Chris thought she could just make out Borus and his bodyguard joining Salome's. Tinto's jaws closed, its deadly teeth crushing those left between them.
Dammit. Back where they'd started, but with more soldiers trapped with the Third, and the line between thicker than ever. There was no way to break them out now, and Tinto was closing tighter on them. The fruitless attempt had extracted a further toll, one paid in blood and the tears of families back in Zexen. Chris glanced behind her, holding tight to the reins as Erfrierung threw his head again. The gap was narrowing despite the cavalry. Dammit, dammit, dammit. They had no choice, now.
Chris looked to the center of the trapped companies one last time, and saw Tinto soldiers had reached the circle of bodyguards around the highest officers. Tinto wouldn't ask for surrender, it seemed - and Borus and Salome would be killed. She couldn't pinpoint Borus in the chaos, but as she watched, the flash of purple fell out of view.
Chris's heart lurched. Her leg muscles tensed, fighting the urge to kick Erfrierung into a gallop, to rush to their aid. Her lungs filled, lips parted to shout orders.
Instead, she turned deliberately around, her heart turning over as she did. It was a simple matter of numbers and duty; no officer was worth the entire army. She was in a cold, calculating place now, her thoughts running like icy water in a channel. The three companies, Borus, and Salome all became tallies for the casualty list, and the battle around her a macabre arithmetic.
Then she filled her lungs again. "Withdraw! Withdraw! Don't bother to widen the gap, just get the hell out of here! Take them down if they're in the way, but get out!"
Zexen forces surged around her, flowing through the gap, and Tinto's lines fell in closer. Chris found herself on the edge of things, her bodyguard scattered. Grey-uniformed cavalry and foot soldiers came at her, from the front or riding up alongside her. Erfrierung's momentum gave extra weight to her sword. One, two, three... She snapped an infantryman's pike with her sword when he lunged for Erfrierung, and he stumbled, falling right under the horse's hooves. As Erfrierung recovered his footing, Chris swung her sword around to block a blow from a Tinto cavalryman. They traded blows, horses running side-by-side. Chris brought Erfrierung into the other horse's shoulder and dumped the rider from the saddle with a shove of her shoulder. Five.
Another soldier on horseback came at her and lost his head as she charged past, showering them all in blood. Six.
Cavalry, infantry, cavalry. Nine.
Twelve was the final subtraction when Erfrierung burst past the last of Tinto's lines, flanks dark with sweat. Soldiers pursued them, but irregularly. Up ahead, several lieutenants were reorganizing the disordered milling of Zexen forces. Chris nodded in cold appraisal; she would need reliable officers to fill the empty slots.
She turned Erfrierung in a wide circle, out of the main path, to see how the retreat was coming along. A Tinto foot soldier came at her, but he became thirteen and Chris was free to look ahead.
A wide swath of orange on the field made her blink, and she wiped sweat out of her eyes to be sure she was seeing properly. Zexen cavalry were breaking Tinto's encirclement of the once-doomed remnants of Third, Fifth, and Twelfth, from the farthest edge of the loop. So that's why Tinto's pursuit lacked the punch their full strength would've given it, Chris realized. The arrival of fresh troops - Percival's, from the banners - had taken their commanders' attention.
Chris's lips turned up in weary satisfaction. The battle had turned to them. She raised her sword and turned to her forces to rally them for another charge.
Tinto was much less interested in fighting now that the armies were matched and they were the ones in the pincer. After only a short while, they withdrew, limping hurriedly back to the highway entrances they'd emerged from.
Chris sought Percival for a hurried conference, avoiding pockets of fighting where Tinto stragglers had not yet surrendered or fled. He was the only member of the high command she could find; she'd completely lost track of Borus since the charge that broke them free of Tinto's wall, and Leo and Roland had yet to arrive. She wasn't expecting to find Salome.
"Lady Chris! Fancy meeting you here," Percival drawled lazily, turning his mount so they both faced her as she rode up. His face turned grim. "I thought I saw Borus's horse without a rider. I'm sorry I wasn't sooner."
Her chest still too cold to feel a pang at the news, Chris just shook her head wearily at the idea of having to replace another high command officer. "We lost Salome, too."
Silence hung between them for a moment, dull and numbing. Percival shook his head. "Are you he's not just missing in the crowd? It wouldn't be the first time he lost his coat in battle..."
"I saw him fall, Percival," she said levelly.
Percival brushed a hand over his head. "Damn," he said softly, looking away. "Him too. I should've been here."
"You came when you came." Chris let her eyes snap shut for a moment, then continued. "We haven't lost any ground, and we lost fewer men than we would've without you. They had three companies in a noose, and you cut them down before they could be strangled."
"Even so..." Percival sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Well, what's done is done. Borus isn't easy to kill; I'm sure we'll find him, at least. How did it start?"
Chris gave him a quick summary of falling into Tinto's trap and the battle that followed. "The rest you know. I'm certain they're using the Lizard highways, and nearly as certain that they've the Lizards' permission."
"Scout patrols, then?"
She nodded, raising her hand in a curt signal to an orderly who had approached the officers and was waiting for orders. "Send out scouts. The ordinary sweep. Trace the Tinto retreat to where they've gone underground. Also, I want at least one man stationed at every Lizard highway entrance within two miles, with signal torches. Cover all of them; check with my new squire for the map. Have another group look for entrances we don't know about."
Percival nodded in agreement as the orderly left, and she turned to him. "What do you think of making camp here?"
"It's close enough to the rendezvous point, and I don't think we'll be seeing them again today," he offered. "They've got wounds to lick, more than they'd expected, by your account."
"So do we." Chris frowned. "If we stay here, they may guess we're waiting for the others, given the timing of your arrival was fortuitous but too late to be a planned ambush. They'd attack again soon, then. But if we leave..."
"We lose the worst casualties and have a harder - and longer - time meeting up with Roland and Leo."
Biting her chapped lip, Chris weighed the options. More lives would be lost soon, either way; the right decision was the one that cut that number smaller than the other. "At the end of the day, we don't really gain anything by staying on the move. Here, we can see their aboveground movements, and unless the Lizards have any new tunnels, we know where they'll come from if they're moving underground."
"Hm. Maybe when things are a bit more under control, we can send some men with Earth Runes out to see about collapsing parts of the tunnels. I'll give the order to make camp, then?" At Chris's nod, Percival turned to speak with another waiting orderly.
Beneath her, Chris felt Erfrierung paw the ground and huff tiredly. The conference was ended, so she nudged him east, to where the camp was to be set up. There wasn't much for her to do until things were better organized and scout reports started coming in, except see to her horse and then try to stay visible to the soldiers. She let Erfrierung choose his pace, and as he moved slowly onwards, surveyed the area.
The field was slowly emptying as Percival's call for camp spread. Zexen soldiers who were still mobile drifted east; one of the lieutenants led a small band that broke up the few pockets of fighting that remained, and another group rounded up the scattered Tinto soldiers who'd surrendered. Soldiers and medics searched for wounded, carrying most off the field to the infirmary being set up in camp and treating the worst where they'd fallen.
The back of her right hand pricked with cold. Chris glanced down, then jerked her eyes away. She didn't need to strip off her gauntlet to know that the True Water Rune she bore was reacting to the dying and dead around them. Now that the battle was over, it wanted to wash away blood and heal wounds, cleansing the field of fatal imperfections. Not out of compassion for the wounded, but because that was its nature. It seemed distinctly frustrated to be reined in.
Chris shared its frustration; at a battle's aftermath, it was a horrible waste for her to be the Rune's Bearer. It would be put to better use by one of the medics. Many of them had ordinary Water Runes, and even now they were following runners to lend their power to those too badly hurt to be moved. But Chris couldn't join them; it would distract and fatigue her, and right now she needed to remain alert and awake as the army regained its organization, in case of another attack by Tinto. And soon there would be scout reports to read, and gaps in the command chain to fill as casualties were confirmed.
Casualties. The question of Borus and Salome nagged at the back of her mind, but academically. Her thoughts were still cold, as if the part of her that would want to run off and search for them herself, dead or alive, were frozen. More galling were the lives they could have saved if someone else had her Rune, the estimated count throbbing in her skull with the headache she hadn't realized she had. Lights flickered across the field as the medics used what Runes they had to save who they could.
The detachment that turned men into numbers made the field easier to bear as she and Erfrierung passed dead horses and broken bodies of both Tinto and Zexen soldiers. She pressed her calf to Erfrierung's side, signaling the gelding to give wide berth to the medic who crouched by a casualty, surrounded by the blue haze of a Rune's magic. As they passed, he straightened, smiling; the soldier would live.
One more, Chris thought at the life saved, and nothing at all of the scattered dead.
Pickets for the horses were already taking form, and Chris found her new squire there. Terrance was a quiet, serious boy whose hair was always falling in his face, and something the opposite of Louis, who was currently under Leo's command as a full knight. Chris dismounted, and Terrance began stripping Erfrierung of his armor and saddle.
"We did good work today, old fellow," Chris told the horse, stripping off her gauntlets. He nosed her shoulder. "Greedyguts! You're battle-weary, sweaty, and lathered, and you're looking for sugar? Do you want colic?" She reached out her right arm, stiff from exertion, to pat his nose, but he jerked his head away.
"I know I smell, but half of that's of you," she told him with a frown, reaching out again. Erfrierung put his ears back.
"It's the Rune, m'lady. He doesn't like it." Terrance reached up to scratch the gelding's ears.
To Chris's consternation, Erfrierung didn't pull away from the boy. "I don't understand it. He's never had a problem with magic before; I've even used the Rune to heal him a time or two."
Terrance brushed his hair out of his face. "That could be why, m'lady. It's one thing when you're hurt. But he knows it doesn't actually care a whit about him."
Chris just shook her head at the puzzle and headed off to check on the camp's progress, leaving Terrance to rub Erfrierung down. She didn't get very far before she was accosted by a messenger who skidded to a stop in front of her.
"Captain! We've found them," he panted, winded from his sprint. "Lord Borus and Lord Salome! Lord Salome's already been taken to the infirmary tent, but Borus was trapped under a horse." He gulped for breath. "They say both should pull through, neither's got a mortal wound."
Two more, Chris thought, followed by the tired relief that she still had two of her best officers and would not have to find replacements. "I... Thank you. Are all the company commanders accounted for?"
"Wittler's fine, Petter's fine, Kirr's still missing, Lassen was killed by an arrow..." He rattled off the names, which echoed as tallies of lives and deaths in Chris's mind. Most of them had made it.
Behind him, two soldiers walked by carrying a third on a stretcher; a squire walked fretfully alongside the procession. The man on the stretcher was moaning, his stomach soaked with blood. His blond head turned this way and that, until the boy put out a hand to still him. One more, Chris thought, not knowing if she was adding or subtracting.