Chapter Twelve
1125 Hours, 14 Erntemon, 1065 (Fifth Age of the Empire)
Krag Peak
Tabah Region, Planet Leka, Katami System
They began their search slowly, and methodically, beginning with the innumerable trails and paths that crisscrossed the base of High Krag and the countless caverns and holes that pockmarked the sides, even though Ather seriously doubted the Spor-Ten's base was so low down. But, it never hurt to be thorough and there was every chance they might find something belonging to them.
Their carriages, these Mond-Guce-Ay-Tee-Vees, had tracks too wide for most of the routes leading upwards so it stood to reason they and the horses that pulled them were lower down the mountain. Even if they couldn't capture them for their own use, they could at least work to deny the Spor-Ten use of them.
But, Ather reminded himself, the enemy had a machine that could fly. It could just as easily be able to stow the Mond-Guces with the bulk of their forces and deploy them as and when needed, obviating the use of a second cave to store them in. There was also the concern that these carriages were nothing of the sort, and were yet another instance of the Spor-Ten's superior capabilities. Perhaps these too could fly, reverting to a ground based form of locomotion for long duration trips.
Having so few solid answers for his seemingly never ending supply of questions irked Ather no end, and did nothing to ease his slowly worsening mood as he and the Order began their third day of traipsing up and down the mountain in search of their foe. Already one soldier had broken an ankle after losing their footing and two others had narrowly avoided a darker fate when crossing wet scree, and with nothing yet to show for it.
It didn't even need to be much, just an impression from a track or another of the Bull-Its, even a discarded wrapper that proved the Spor-Ten was nearby. At least then Orlon could send the bulk of the army to Krag Peak and begin operations proper.
But there was nothing.
Any tracks made by the Mond-Guce-Ay-Tee-Vees were washed away by recent rains, and the chances of finding something so small as a Bull-It by a scant forty people in hundreds of thousands of square feet of mountainous terrain was close to an impossibility.
Ather let out a short, irate sigh as they stopped for a rest in the lee of some rocks, sheltered by a keen wind that scoured the side of the mountain. Everyone was sweating despite it, a consequence of wearing their armour and carrying their weapons. It would do them no good to stumble across the enemy and have their equipment be an hour's climb away back at camp.
Although, if the accounts from Marlton were to be believed, their armour wouldn't do them any good against the cannon held by the Spor-Ten. Soldiers in heavy plate and leather barding alike had fallen before the Spor-Ten's strange weapon. Dozens more of the strange containers and Bull-Its had been recovered from around Marlton, and the report from the survivor seemed to suggest it was some miniaturised version of a cannon.
It was obvious to Ather that the Bull-It did indeed contain an explosive powder which, when ignited, forced the cap off at great speed, and it seemed likely the miniaturised cannon functioned much like its larger counterparts with the barrel working to contain the detonation and direct the shot. The strange container must have served as a quiver for the Bull-Its, then, allowing a quick reload, but again Ather was plagued by the question of how?
The device wasn't loaded from the muzzle, that much was certain, and had such a rate of fire that it put even the best archers of the Empire to shame. Reports said the bangs were near continuous, stopping in random patterns that hadn't been deciphered. No living creature was able to hand load a weapon so quickly, not even a member of the Sanga.
Ather tried imagining a few different possible designs for the miniature cannon in his head as he rested, absently chewing on a strip of dried meat as he did. Around him, the Order occupied themselves in their own ways as they ate.
Efla was sat by the entrance into the lee, gazing out at the countryside and doing her best to recreate the sight on a fresh page in her sketchbook, with Saria next to her to keep a more dutiful watch. Ene and Zwo were retying their braids and weaving some wild flowers into them, and Hannya was telling Ost and Megumi some facts about the mountain range they were on, namely how its various features were created over millennia by the weather alone.
'You can tell by the smooth faces of the rocks that water once flowed this way,' Hannya said, gesturing at the dull brown surfaces that surrounded them. 'If this gap was created by a freeze-thaw effect, the edges would be more jagged from where the rock violently split apart, and we'd see more debris on the ground.'
'So where did the water go?' Megumi asked. 'Why isn't it still flowing through here?'
Hannya shrugged and said, 'It may be a season flow, during spring when the snow further up begins to melt and turn to water, or the flow was redirected to go elsewhere. A rockslide, perhaps, or by workers at one of the mines. There are plenty of them covering High Krag, remember. Some even had permanent settlements whilst they were operational.'
'Do you think the Spor-Ten is camped out in one of those?' Ost asked.
She directed this Ather who blinked and returned to reality, saying, 'I'm fairly certain of it. They have no end of tunnels to hide and store things in, and would make for a strong defensive position.'
'So why haven't we searched one yet?' Ost said. 'We've been doing this for three days now, and I'm tired! If you knew where they were from the start, why haven't we gone straight there?'
'Because I don't want to risk overlooking something,' Ather said. 'We could find a cave with some of their equipment, or even a hidden trail that leads us right into their base without running the gauntlet of their defences. Don't you remember what happened during the Succession War during the Second Age of the Empire?'
'Yes,' Ost said, then a moment later said,' No.'
Ather looked to Hannya who nodded eagerly, proud of her vast sum of knowledge, and said, 'The disowned prince's forces established their new capital in the southern foothills, making use of the difficult terrain to funnel their foes into places they could be easily repulsed.
'For six months a stalemate existed between the prince's army and that of the queen, with neither side able to gain enough of an advantage over the other. The queen had a larger force, but they counted for nothing against the prince and his defences. It took a defector to reveal to the queen a hidden path, really a goat's trail, that allowed her to bypass the defences and take the prince's capital with minimal bloodshed, on both sides.
'If not for that path, the war likely would have continued for several long years, and maybe even ended with the prince achieving victory. If that had happened, the queen wouldn't have been able to introduce her reforms, which would have meant the peasant's requests weren't headed, which would have meant...'
Hannya kept going on like that for a few minutes, eventually shifting from a geographical lesson about High Krag to a historical one about the Empire's past battles, and how a single action, by choice or accident, could drastically alter lives for years afterwards. It was the adage of for want of a nail writ large, and Ost and Megumi listened with rapt attention.
As they did, Ather found himself wondering how future generation would look back on this battle, how the decision to capture and enslave those strange people on the plains ended up bringing the Empire into war with the Spor-Ten. Had they left them alone, hundreds of people would still be alive and Lake Dam would be intact, and he wouldn't be sitting in a weather worn groove on the side of a mountain in pursuit of a foe that, by all accounts, was the single most dangerous thing on the planet.
He had the potential to create one of those pivotal actions by choosing to report back nothing was found, the Spor-Ten was not on the mountain, and return home to High Keep to start his search elsewhere, perhaps somewhere more scenic like a forest on the edge of a lake. Or, he could choose to more openly defy Orlon by siding with the increasingly outspoken Mella in standing against continuing this war.
To do either meant breaking the vows he had made to serve and protect the Empire against all threats, and risk imprisonment or execution for his actions. It also meant turning his back on a lifelong friend.
Ather shook his head minutely to dismiss the idea then stood, signalling to the girls their rest time was over. They made various noises to voice their complaints but dutifully gathered up their things, taking one last swig from a water skin, and followed Ather back out onto the mountain's side to resume their search.
2100 Hours, 14 Erntemon, 1065 (Fifth Age of the Empire)
Forests near Krag Peak
Tabah Region, Planet Leka, Katami System
A fire burned and crackled in the centre of the camp, the remains of a wild boar slowly turning a charred black as it hung above the flames, and sitting around it Ather, the Order and the soldiers accompanying them enjoyed a few tankards of ale after another exhausting day searching Krag Peak with nothing to show for it beyond more injuries, this time some bruising and sprains after a nasty tumble.
Luck or fortune had kept this fate from happening to the girls, so far, but it showed that the mountain was not an easy place to call home, let alone fight a battle on, and Ather was worried when the time came to assault the Spor-Ten's base the casualties would be immense. Not from the actual fighting, but trying to move thousands of troops into place.
He sighed and stroked the side of Hannya's head as she sat on the ground next to him, forgoing the logs that had been sourced specifically to act as seating in favour of leaning against his legs as she nursed her third tankard of ale. She had a rosy glow to her cheeks that was mirrored by Saria as she sat on Ather's other side, their fingers intertwined as both stared into the glowing embers of the fire.
Even though the girls loved one another like they loved Ather, and accepted they were all in a relationship with him, they didn't like it when one of them made overt displays of affections towards him in front of the others. Usually they would engage in one-upmanship, matching and then exceeding the last act of the other, until Ather had had enough or made his choice.
Tonight it seemed like Hannya and Saria were the ones facing off, mostly because they were the only ones sober enough to notice what the other was doing. Efla, Megumi and Ost were sound asleep, curled up next to each other with a blanket thrown over them all, and Ene and Zwo were sipping at their drinks as they peered into the fire with lidded eyes.
Ather didn't know which of the two he might pick to have share his bed tonight, or if he wanted to share it at all. He felt just as tired as the others and between the drink and the food, and the day's exertion, getting a full night's rest sounded wonderful at the moment.
He caught the looks from some of the soldiers that were still up, the uninjured ones, who had expressions that were a mixture of envy and awe of the situation Ather found himself in, of how he was surrounded by seven beautiful girls who seemed to show him genuine affection rather than the lip service seen so often between married nobles. He also wondered if they were planning to challenge him to a duel.
Leadership and control of the Order could only be gained by defeating the current holder of the title in single combat, either to the death or until one side yielded, which ensured that only the most skilled and capable of people held command to help carry out the Order's holy charter, though as with most things involving the Church their function was more ceremonial than anything else. Nowadays, they served to mark their commander as the best fighter in the Empire.
Ather had won the title two years ago, though his reason for issuing the duel had been to do with his predecessor's disparaging comments about Orlon's ability to rule that wanting to gain control of the Order himself. Regardless of the reason, he had come out on top and Saria and the others had been by his side ever since.
Only a handful of others had summoned the courage to challenge him since then, a disappointing thing Ather felt as he believed an army could only stay strong if its top fighters were constantly being challenged, their skills kept sharp, or new blood was introduced to reinvigorate it. A lack of challengers suggested the Empire's protectors were growing complacent, which led to stagnation and degradation, which was not something it needed.
He sighed again and kept stroking Hannya's head, as next to him Saria's breathing became softer and slower as sleep claimed her at long last. She slumped against his shoulder, the motion rocking Ather enough to let Hannya know Saria was asleep and she looked up at him, a soft smile on her face.
Ather smiled back and made his decision for tonight.
0921 Hours, 15 Erntemon, 1065 (Fifth Age of the Empire)
Krag Peak
Tabah Region, Planet Leka, Katami System
They pushed further up the mountain this time, climbing half a mile up from the base, where the terrain started to get more precarious and the first of the old mines began appearing. Thousands of tons of ores had been mined from them over the past few hundred years as new veins were found and exploited, resulting in dozens of places with readymade tunnels and structures. As Hannya had said yesterday, plenty of these mines had housed the bulk of their workforce rather than force them to make the dangerous trip back to a nearby camp on a daily basis.
She was walking a few paces behind Ather with a smile on her face and a slight spring in her step, a stark contrast to the others who were still recovering from last night's ale and had more subdued expressions.
Ather paused as the path widened a little and signs of human intervention became visible, namely in the form of walls being made to shore up weak patches of dirt and an old signpost that had long since fallen to the floor. He could just make out a few letters and a number, the name of the mine and how far away it was, but little else.
There was another path that joined further on, a roughly hewn thing that looked like it had once served carriages coming for the raw ores. If Ather's memory of the maps were correct, it ran for seven or eight miles and curved around the mountain's northern flank, following the valley lying between High Krag and Middle Krag.
With some effort, the Spor-Ten could have gotten the Mond-Guce-Ay-Tee-Vee along it but the terrain was rough enough that mules were the only things reliable enough to haul carriages and wagons across it, something that was at odds with the apparent swiftness of the Spor-Ten's departure from Rivercross all those weeks ago.
But drawing closer, Ather saw the path had been worn recently by the passage of wheels, the imprint of which was caught almost perfectly by the mud when it dried. He held up a hand to stop the girls as a tingle of something, excitement or fear, ran up his spine at finding this here.
'Efla,' he called out in a low voice. 'The picture of the wheel.'
She nodded and rummaged around inside her bag, coming out with a folded piece of parchment that she handed up the line to Ather who unfolded it to look at the drawing, seeing the pencil sketch was a near perfect match for the impressions in the mud before him.
He slowly drew his sword and crept towards the mine, holding it at the ready, glancing about for any further signs something was here. The tracks came in and out of the mine for certain, even leaving trails of dirt that lead towards some of the old mine entrances, suggesting the Spor-Ten and its people had brought their Mond-Guces in and out plenty of times.
Ather felt his heart beat faster and faster as he followed the trails towards the mine, gesturing for the Order to stay where they were. If the enemy had any kind of trap or ambush set to protect their carriages, it wouldn't do for all of them to get caught in it and render this all for nothing.
He knew without looking that Saria was crouched at the ready behind a slight outcropping she and the girls were hiding behind, hand on her sword, which was a comforting thing to know, but it still did nothing to calm his heartbeat as he stepped proper into the mine.
About two dozen feet back from the entrance he saw the soft shaped of something hiding in the shadows, several things actually, and Ather brought out a torch which he lit to cast a sputtering orange glow across everything.
He stopped when he did, mesmerised by the sight in front of him.
There were four of them, the Mond-Guce-Ay-Tee-Vees, and they were nothing like anything Ather had ever seen before. Each was about ten feet end to end with wheels made of this strange, rubber-like material at each corner on arms that had no axle connecting them, a sleekly sculpted canopy of glass and metal on the front to protect the rider.
Where the horses attached to it, or where the horses themselves were, wasn't immediately obvious, and neither did Ather understand the toggles and switches on a handle that appeared to steer the Mond-Guce, but before he could try to further examine and decipher these strange creations before him he heard a clattering of stone coming from the mine's entrance.
He span, sword at the ready, and saw a hulking figure standing in the entryway staring right at him. Being backlit by the morning sun shrouded most of it in shadows but the light from his torch illuminated parts of the figure enough to make out some details, in particular a mirrored faceplate that seemed to glow with an unnatural light.
It was the Spor-Ten.