The Autumn Republic

“Where is the Lady now?” Adamat asked. The Lady, along with twenty-six thousand Wings infantry, had joined them yesterday evening. They’d brought along news of the intercepted missive-Hilanska’s treachery. Adamat had hoped that at least Bo would be with them, but only Nila arrived. What good could a barely trained Privileged do?

“I sent her back to Adopest with a hundred of my best cavalry,” Abrax said. “I won’t let her die on the field.” There was a long silence as Abrax continued to watch the northeast, and then she said, “You’ve killed us all, Adamat.” There was no accusation or anger in the words. Just a dull acceptance.

The realization that they would all be slaughtered by nightfall descended on Adamat’s shoulders. He felt his chest tighten and forced himself to take slow, deep breaths. Hilanska was a traitor. He would attack the Wings of Adom, destroying both them and their three adopted brigades of Adran infantry, and then… what? Order his men to surrender to the Kez? Would they follow such an order? Or would the Kez simply swarm and slaughter them as well?

The Adran army would destroy itself, and then the Kez would be fresh to fight Field Marshal Tamas and the Deliv when they arrived.

It was absolutely hopeless. They were hemmed in with no possibility of escape. Abrax had ordered ditches dug and fortifications built. She was determined to make a last stand of it, but Adamat could see the stress lines on her face and the purple circles under her eyes from a sleepless night.

Abrax’s head twitched, and Adamat turned to follow her gaze. On the distant hills to the northeast, a horseman had appeared. It paused, watching them, and then Adamat saw the glitter of the sun off bayonets on the crest of the hill.

“They’re coming,” Abrax said.

CHAPTER 12

Where the pit is everyone?” Tamas demanded.

The corporal before him, standing over his breakfast with a spoon forgotten in his hand, stared openmouthed at Tamas.

The Adran camp was nearly empty. Only a small guard had been left with the thousands of hangers-on, and the sea of tents had been abandoned. That meant only one thing: Battle would be joined today. Tamas could smell it on the wind, and despite his exhaustion and the ache deep in his bones, he felt a thrill course through him.

Olem sawed at the reins of his mount to bring it closer to the corporal. “You heard the field marshal, soldier. Speak up!” Steam rose from their horses from the long, hard ride through the night.

“I’m, I’m…” the corporal stuttered. “I’m so sorry, sir. They’re…” He lifted one arm to point southwest. “They’ve gone to battle.”

“Bloody pit,” Tamas swore. Why would Hilanska choose to join battle now? The Kez would still outnumber the Adran army, and on the open plains like this the Kez would be able to bring their superior numbers to bear with devastating effect. “Do you hear that, Olem? Cannon fire.”

“I hear it, sir.”

“Sir!” Vlora raced toward them through the camp, having gone ahead to try to find the General Staff. She arrived panting and took the reins of her horse from Olem, swinging into the saddle. “Sir, they’re not attacking the Kez!”

“Then who the pit would they be attacking?” Tamas asked.

“They’re attacking our own men. General Ket had separated her brigades from the army, and Hilanska is attacking her!”

“Ride!” Tamas bellowed, digging his heels in, feeling his stallion leap forward.

The three of them galloped through the Adran camp and then southwest, following the trail of his brigades. The sweat poured down Tamas’s face despite the cool wind racing past. What had happened? How could a disaster of this magnitude occur? He was going to find Ket and string her up by her own bootlaces.

They rode several miles along the main highway, and with each crested hill Tamas got a slightly better glimpse of the forces arrayed to their south. His heart thundered in his chest and he clung to the neck of his horse, urging more speed.

They reached the rear of the Adran lines. Soldiers leapt out of their way as they thundered through. Tamas spotted the command tent placed at the height of a hillock overlooking the artillery and veered toward it. Soldiers were beginning to look curiously in his direction, but he ignored them, pushing on.

He leapt from his mount, tossing the reins to a startled infantryman, and advanced on the command tent. He threw back the flaps. “Damn it, Hilanska, what is going on here?”

Several dozen eyes stared at him in dumb confusion.

“Well?” Tamas asked.

Chaos broke out among the assembled officers. There were protestations and exclamations and hands reaching for him. More than one chair was knocked over as men sprang to their feet. A cacophony of voices all tried to speak to him at once.

“Quiet down!” Olem roared.

“Thank you, Olem. Now, tell me, what’s going on here?” Tamas searched for familiar faces and was saddened to see so few. Had they lost that many men since he’d been gone?

“We’re about to commence battle with the traitor General Ket,” a colonel said from the back.