Born a Monster

270 Servant of the Axe – Whispers of Fear

Chapter Type: Social

“So, are we withdrawing?” I asked Leng Li.

“Nothing is final, at least not that I know of.”

I blinked. “So that’s being discussed? What manner of crap...?”

Leng Li held up a hand, and I stopped talking.

“I understand. But consider that we are losing good men and women, with no reserves outside of the walls, or at least none which we can contact. There are those who argue that a smaller battle front allows us to concentrate troops.”

“At clear costs to the siege.” I argued. “In three months, there is either going to be a harvest or second harvest of the fields in this region. I’d need a map to be certain, but it is as large as the other two zones combined, is it not?”

“Perhaps a finger or two smaller, but most of our crops were in the middle zone, precisely so that we could fall back from the outer wall should we have to.”

“Have implies mandatory.”

.....

“And if I were to tell you that our losses exceed what we can expect to keep the wall with?”

I shook my head. “Everything I know about military science says that defending a fortified position puts one at advantage. But even if that weren’t the case...”

He raised an eyebrow at me.

I took a few seconds to organize my thoughts. “The nine. They are raising all kind of havoc just to get us to give up the outer wall. If the enemy wants it that badly, then it’s worth holding out while we can.”

“And the damage the nine can do in the meantime?”

“Can’t the guards deal with them?”

“They seem to have the abilities of champions.”

“So, gather a force of champions and hunt them down.”

“Ah-ah, and are you volunteering for that force, Little Monitor?”
I lowered my gaze. “I’d rather heal for a day or two, but yes, until Xinyi Shi returns, Rice Gate can afford to send some of us to the wall and others of us to the task force. But... if he does still live, I think we’ve only got a week, perhaps two weeks and a day.”

“An interesting estimate. What are you basing it upon?”

“Normal people get a check to heal serious wounds every thirty days, grievous wounds every ninety. With variances, but that’s what I’ve been told is the rule of thumb. Given the other healing abilities he has, it isn’t unreasonable to assume that Xinyi Shi will be back in half the time normal people need to heal from a serious wound.”

“Indeed, that is a conservative estimate. With any luck, someone will spot him moving in the camp a day or so before he returns to the gate. But neither Captain Feng nor I gained our positions because we trusted to luck.”

“You speak of spies?”

“Among other resources. But yes, those loyal to the admiral among the rebel forces are getting us information.”

“What about those loyal to the admiral and not here at the walls? Is there any benefit to disrupting their supply lines?”

He shook his head. “That is for those with strategic wisdom. Best for us if we don’t try to think outside our position, yes?”

“Then why is there any debate about whether or not to hold the wall? We just obey orders from above?”

He set his jaw. “I forget you are not of Dauria. There are times to voice one’s opinion, and times to just follow orders, as you say. But at the root, Daurians are an orderly people. There is a time and a place, order and structure. To defy this order is to be a barbarian, loud and offensive. This you understand, yes?”

“No.” I said. “I do not understand.”

“Well, understand this, then. You are not to speak of the possibility of falling back to the middle wall with ANYONE. That is an order. Dismissed.”

“Of course not, sir.”

And I didn’t need to, but I’m getting ahead of myself.

Hearth Week was in full swing, in spite of the diseases spreading through camp. Our medical tents, in particular, seemed to be targets, but trying to convince others of that was... frustrating. I went through my cycle of tapping and diminishing disease, but there is only so much one being can do.

Oh, and you can catch vicious diseases by messing with them magically. I learned the hard way. Call it a fumble if you want, or a failed skill check. I know the truth; magic got fickle, and had a chance to do something against me, and did so.

Oh, I’ve no right to complain; I didn’t save every life that I tried to, but for the most part magic had been doing as I asked. It was my fault for getting complacent, using the same invocation over and over.

It is said that doing the same thing over and over but expecting different results is insanity. With magic, it’s the opposite. Imagine that your will, your words, become more strained with every tapping, every invocation. Use the same invocation repeatedly, and it’s bound to wear thin.



And then the magic gets loose.

Fortunately for me, magic usually wants to mess with the natural order of things. So, the consequences weren’t of the “lungs on fire” or “skull turns to liquid” variety. I suppose I was lucky to get off with a case of tetanus, also called lockjaw.

I missed two meals before being able to reduce the infection to levels that allowed me to eat. As for the pain? Yes, there was pain; I didn’t let it stop me from getting what nutrition I could, even if I didn’t chew quite as thoroughly as I ought to have.

And I had found a new source of biomass that nobody seemed to want; a half-burned yard of jute. It didn’t count as grass, or a grain, but I had four stomach slots, each with a stacking limit of ten. It was enough to make up for nutrient shortage, and stack up a little for the upcoming days.

There should have been crews putting in foundations, but I learned there just wasn’t enough wood inside to go around. “Well, why doesn’t someone dig a quarry? I’m certain that stone could be mined...”

They laughed, and explained that no, while they had Farmer caste, all the miners and quarriers lived outside the wall.

“I don’t understand.” I said.

“One doesn’t take from the earth, not without the proper placation rituals.” The old woman shivered, “Some say the deep forest is darker, but the earth... You won’t catch me digging deeper than my garden. Earth’s vicious, don’t you doubt it.”

Go ahead, laugh. I had no clue about how right she was. She was wrong about the temporary truce that would let us celebrate Hearth Week with the inmates, though. It seemed neither side was quite THAT willing to join with the other.

I wouldn’t learn about the horrors of the earth until the armies of the Red Tide made it to Restful Valley, and that’s MANY chapters in the future.

Anyway, the squad couldn’t get off the wall, so I did their shopping. “When do I get paid?” I asked.

“Well, I sure didn’t get your pay for last month.” Meng Wa said. “Maybe your new commander has it?”

“Huh. Maybe.” I had to wonder, though. I mean, surely I WAS getting paid, right? “Oh, this package is for Tang Ning. Is she at the restroom?”

“Fifth Support Company medical tents. Is this her suit of maternity armor?”

I rubbed my left shoulder, then my right while saying, “Either that, or they got mixed up with a suit of ox barding. That stuff is heavy!”

And it ought to be. Want to wear plate armor over your plate armor? Maternity armor is designed first for protection, especially of the extended belly. Then, they enchant it enough so that you can actually WEAR the stuff.

Oh, and all kinds of magic and spirit resistance, because military mothers worry about that.

It was the sort of luxury that even Meng Wa couldn’t afford to have made just for herself. So, she rented it, and counted herself lucky to have found not one, but two suits. “Not sure what I’ll do if another of us turns up with a baby.” She joked.

I flicked my tongue, tasting the air. I didn’t have my enhanced olfactory evolutions active, but I’d be willing to bet there were plenty of young mothers here on the wall. Now that I’d thought of it, I was curious...

“Wait.” I said. “You said the FIFTH Support Company?”

“Right there.” She said, pointing her hand at the outskirts of what was called the Zone of Bad Air. I don’t know why; even my System knew about germs. But now, knowing that someone I knew was there...

“Can you keep her armor safe here?” I asked.

“Ah-ah, back to the gatehouse for you? So early?”

“It occurs to me that I have a friend in a hospital bunk needing a friendly visit.”

Meng Wa shook her head. “It is your life to lose, visiting a woman in her condition. Dead people don’t get paid, Little Monitor.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” I said, waiting until I was out of line of sight before applying Fleet of Foot.