"Huh?! ..."
A dazed, foolish sound escaped Xu Ning's mouth. In these few minutes, he had already understood what had happened to him. But a lingering hope still kept him from acknowledging reality, a terrifying reality he could do nothing about: an ordinary university graduate like him now had to lead a unit of cataphracts into the enemy formation. Into that enormous millstone of flesh and blood, to be ground to pieces himself.
This reality was so frightening and unacceptable that his normally quick mind seemed frozen. Had the mail face guard not concealed his expression, every cavalryman around him would have seen the idiotic look on his commander's face. As it was, it bought him a precious chance to think about his predicament.
But that chance was pitifully brief. Within a few minutes at most, he would have to make his decision...
He slowly, stiffly turned his head and noticed that the cavalryman to his left had his fingers resting on the hilt at his waist. It was a finely made steel saber, its scabbard slightly curved and sharply, simply shaped. The brass pommel had been carved into an eagle's head, even its tiny overlapping feathers carefully defined.
The cavalryman's right hand, clad in a mail glove, rested on the long saber's hilt. This seemed an entirely ordinary gesture, but it filled Xu Ning with suspicion.
He began to wonder whether the man had noticed something wrong, realized that his commander was no longer the same person, and instinctively gripped his weapon. It was hardly impossible. His behavior just now had been extremely strange. Anyone capable of commanding such an elite force of heavy cavalry certainly would not be some nobody who could be frightened by a battlefield, yet he had gone rigid and moved like an idiot...
Although the man could not possibly guess the truth, he would certainly grow more suspicious of him...
"Lord Tesolys?"
Xu Ning came to his senses. Whatever happened, he had to speak now. Whatever he said, he at least had to dispel the man's current suspicions.
"Did the consul not give specific instructions? Or am I to act as the situation demands? Read the order out properly."
The words startled even him as they left his throat. He had never imagined his voice could sound so calm and commanding. Low and hoarse, it nevertheless carried a steady composure that involuntarily reassured anyone who heard it.
"His Excellency the consul orders us to charge their formation of archers and crossbowmen, destroy them completely, and disrupt the enemy rear to create an opening for the main army."
The man immediately repeated the order. His hand still gripped the leather-wrapped hilt tightly, while his other hand rose to point toward a particular area within the dark green formations on the chaotic battlefield.
"Those are the Hols archers and crossbowmen. They are two gari from here."
Xu Ning raised his head and looked into the distance. By his rough estimate, that area was about two kilometers away. It seemed this world had its own units of measurement, and their enemies were those Hols soldiers in dark green armor...
Organizing this information about the world in his mind, Xu Ning continued questioning him without betraying anything.
"Is everyone ready? Check your horses' hooves and your own equipment carefully. I don't want a whole crowd of idiots falling over during the charge. Surely I don't need to remind you to give the horses an extra feed?"
"We have already checked three times in accordance with regulations. There are no problems. The horses have also been given concentrated feed, enough to sustain their acceleration over this distance."
"Check again. It's drizzling today. The ground will be more slippery... What are you staring at me for? Get going!"
Having sent away the cavalryman on his left, Xu Ning turned to the one on his right. This man was extremely tall. Xu Ning himself was already considered tall, yet the other man stood another half a head above him. Nor was he lanky. His entire body was packed with powerful muscle.
The mail that ought to have hung a little loose was stretched tight over him, while the lamellar and scale armor outside sat just right. The sight alone was enough to strike genuine fear into an enemy's heart.
"What's your name? What position do you hold?"
Xu Ning gritted his teeth and asked. He knew this would readily arouse suspicion, but he was about to go into battle. He might be dead in a moment. How could he worry about all that now? He had to seize every chance to find a way to survive.
He did not even know how to ride a horse, or which foot to put up first when mounting. How was he supposed to lead them in a charge?
"I am Alka, your standard guard and your attendant."
The tall Alka seemed somewhat puzzled, but he still answered his superior's question.
'A standard guard? ...'
Xu Ning turned to look at the large standard behind him. It was conspicuous enough, but in his earlier panic he had actually failed to notice it immediately.
A thick wooden pole supported the standard, with a short crossbar at the top from which the cloth hung. The standard itself was black, embroidered in the center with a golden double-headed eagle. Rather than the highly abstract image common in ancient times, this design was more realistic.
Gold fringe decorated its edges. A tuft of gray feathers, secured in a metal fitting at the top, now trembled slightly in the breeze.
Some golden characters were embroidered along the bottom, neat and handsome, but he did not recognize a single one. With his pitiful knowledge, even if this were a language that had once existed on Earth, he would not recognize a word unless it was Chinese or English. Presumably it proclaimed their achievements...
Strangely, however, he could understand what the others said. He also seemed to have inexplicably mastered another language and could speak it fluently.
"How large is our unit?"
"Of those assembled here, 1,078 have a complete set of armor. Another fifty-four whose horses cannot be armored will follow behind us."
"How many commanders are there?"
"One hundred and four squad leaders, ten centurions, and one standard bearer, quartermaster, and guard captain each... Then there is you, my lord."
...
Xu Ning's heart sank into utter despair. He had discovered that he really had no good options left. Of all things, he was a commander of a thousand, with more than a thousand men under him watching him right now. He could not turn and flee, because he had no idea what the others would do if he ran.
Knowing next to nothing about this world, he might even be killed on the spot the moment he tried. He had no idea what sort of control he actually held over this unit. For all he knew, he might merely be someone promoted temporarily, without any established support...
Had he been an ordinary soldier, he could at least have looked for an opportunity to slip through the confusion. But to flee now, under everyone's eyes? ... That definitely would not work.
He could only hope the unit's preparations would take a little longer and buy him more time to think. His brain, never especially clever, simply could not come up with anything useful on such short notice.
"My lord, we are ready. All equipment has been checked, and the horses are in excellent condition."
What?! ...
Xu Ning turned his head blankly. Everyone's eyes had once again settled on him as they waited for the order to move. The horses snorted incessantly. These ill-tempered mounts were growing impatient, and their riders were shouting at them or soothing them in low voices. Everyone had finished preparing. They were waiting only for him.
Suddenly, an inexplicable anger and shame rose in him. Why didn't any of you look afraid?! That battlefield was so terrifying. Countless people were dying there every second of every minute. Why were you in such a hurry to rush into it? How could you be so calm? Didn't you know you might very well die there?
...
Why weren't you afraid of it, like me? ... Then I would have an excuse to turn around and lead you all away...
These confused words tumbled through his mouth, about to leap off his tongue, but he swallowed them all. He practically forced the single word out between his teeth.
"Move..."
He lifted his spear and clenched its leather-wrapped hardwood shaft. Cold sweat from his palms had even seeped through his mail, leaving his grip feeling wet and slippery.
Alka, his standard guard, led over a tall armored warhorse. It stood a full 1.8 meters at the shoulder. Its four exposed hooves were black as ink, and it tossed its head irritably, making the reins rattle and rustle.
"My lord, please mount."
Silently, he looked at the brass stirrup, then tentatively put his foot into it. Reaching up to grasp the seat of the high-bowed saddle, he pushed and pulled with both hands and his foot and settled somewhat awkwardly into the saddle. The horse tossed its head uncomfortably and shifted its hooves against the ground, but soon quieted.
Holding the spear in his right hand, he touched the iron mace at his waist with his left. Someone passed him a kite shield, its purple face painted with the double-headed eagle. Looking at this thoroughly Roman emblem, he found himself unable to speak, however much he had to say.
He could only tentatively give the horse's belly a gentle nudge with his heels and urge it forward.
He followed the gentle slope all the way to the foot of the hill. With a light pull on the reins, he turned his horse to face the cavalry drawn up on the hillside. These men were so well trained, so utterly fearless in the face of death. Apart from the rubbing of their armor, they were as silent as the dead.
By custom, he ought to say something to raise their morale. That, too, was a basic requirement of a commander. But he was no commander, only a student who didn't know how to do anything...
So all he could do was silently turn his horse around. Then, riding out ahead of them all, he huddled tightly against its back and charged toward the chaotic battlefield.
Comments