The horses were eating their feed. Each cavalryman held a sack filled with grain and salt, letting his horse put its head inside and crunch away. This was an important way to restore the warhorses' strength.
It was early spring, and the air was still somewhat chilly. The warhorses were not particularly well fed to begin with, and the past few days of travel had made them much thinner. They needed this grain all the more to maintain their strength and speed each day.
The more than two hundred horses they had captured were only ordinary warhorses. They were nowhere near the fine breed reserved for cataphracts. Those horses had been specially bred for a full ten generations to produce offspring with such outstanding qualities. Every one was immensely precious, beyond even what money could buy.
They could carry heavy horse armor and a fully armored cavalryman while galloping at tremendous speed for two full hours without exhaustion... No horse he knew of could do that. It was almost as though an engine had been fitted inside those huge bodies of flesh and blood...
But considering the young doctor's marvelous magic and the wound on his forehead that had already healed, perhaps some supernatural power had been involved in breeding them. That might explain such extraordinary warhorses.
Even the smallest of these magnificent horses stood 1.7 meters at the shoulder, and every one was worth a fortune. Wealthy merchants could not obtain one no matter how much gold they offered. Ordinary people would never have a chance to see these splendid creatures in their lifetimes... Thinking of the cavalrymen and horses that had died on that brutal battlefield, Tesolys's expression darkened again.
A trace of uncertainty still lingered in his heart, but only a trace. He had found a suitable goal for himself...
Those elite cavalrymen had followed him into certain death without hesitation. They had been so brave and so strong. They should never have met that fate... Someone had to pay for it, and he could be the one to make that happen.
Perhaps it was anger at the plot against his life. Perhaps it was his refusal to accept the fate of those fine cavalrymen. Or perhaps he simply wanted to do it... Without hesitation, Tesolys decided what he would do next.
Fear seemed very far from him now. He rarely felt worried or afraid anymore. Whatever happened, he seemed able to face it calmly... The change was so sudden, yet so natural, as if he had been born this way. As if he had been born to be a strong man.
The rubbing of mail rings sounded all around him, faint and unceasing, like spring silkworms chewing leaves.
Their spoils included more than two hundred serviceable coats of mail, enough for almost every highlander to have one. Only the unlucky few who had failed to grab one before the others stood sulking, holding battered, damaged coats of mail and stamping their feet in regret.
"I told you to shoot them in the head! You kept aiming at their chests. You've ruined all this good armor. How are we supposed to wear it?!"
"Did a wolf eat your brains? Who had time to worry about that? Hitting them at all was good enough."
"Only the elders used to wear these. Never thought we'd get a turn... Damn it, mine's a bit too tight. Which of you is shorter? Swap with me."
"Mine's too loose. I'll swap."
...
With coats of mail over their ragged outer clothes, the highlanders looked a little more uniform. But they still stood about so lazily that they resembled a herd of beasts ready to scatter at any moment.
They had taken almost everything. They had even cut plenty of meat from the dead warhorses, and all the surviving horses had been gathered up and brought along. Now almost everyone had a mount, greatly improving their mobility.
A few of the more skillful highlanders had also built several large flatbed carts from dry, fallen trees. These were a common means of transport in the woodlands of their homeland. The baggage and grain had been loaded onto them, and most of the women and children who could not ride were traveling in the carts too.
Though they had gained a great deal, they now faced a serious problem... They were running short of grain.
A warhorse ate several times as much grain each day as a person. The supplies they had bought in the village were almost gone. They had to find enough provisions, or they would never complete the long journey ahead.
Interestingly, the city of Alpos happened to be an important grain-producing area. Broad, fertile plains surrounded it, and it stood where two mountain ranges met. Once they passed the city, they would see the Empire's territory... That was why this area had always been an important Hols defensive zone, with large numbers of troops stationed there.
So, although the place held plentiful supplies, it was heavily protected. It was like a few berries in a dense thicket of thorns. Getting them would be very risky...
An ordinary army would have plundered a few villages to gather enough food for the journey home. After all, it would only take a few days. If they took the last rations those commoners had left in the lean season between harvests, there would be just enough for the soldiers and warhorses... Tesolys shook his head and rejected the idea.
They were isolated in enemy territory. Plundering on that scale would expose their position, and for his own reasons, he instinctively disliked the idea as well...
His keen intuition had sensed something strange about the mudslide that had destroyed the road yesterday. It seemed that someone was deliberately steering them toward another route... A route that looked broad and easy, but was certain to be full of danger and countless obstacles.
He had little evidence, but a strong instinct had led him to turn the force around and retrace their steps. Here, he had wiped out an enemy cavalry unit of more than two hundred men. Now he only needed word from the scouts he had sent out to confirm his suspicions...
They had removed as many traces from the road as possible and established a spacious camp in the woods, hiding the horses in a secluded hollow in the hills. While the others prepared to light fires and cook, Tesolys sat on a stump and quietly waited...
In the small hours, hurried footsteps approached. Soon Marcus stood before him.
"General, we've confirmed that a large force passed through Kas Pass... That road has been blocked too."
Tesolys nodded, feeling considerably more at ease.
"Did you capture anyone?"
"We found one man on his own... But he's mute. His tongue's been cut out."
"An imperial?"
"An imperial."
Tesolys spread out the map again. His sharp gaze kept searching the area around Alpos. Then his eyes suddenly brightened a little, as though he had found something...
Comments