Savage Divinity

“Mister Rustram, command of the camp is yours.”

Despite the boss’s confident smile and a reassuring pat on the back, Rustram’s stomach twisted into knots at the thought of holding sole command. Warily keeping an eye on the boss’s cantankerous, snarling quin, Rustram leaned over the collection of gourds strapped to the quin’s saddlebags and whispered, “Boss, is this really the best idea? There’s still the matter of Wraiths and Demons aiming to take your head, not to mention your other enemies lurking about. I’m sure the Major is more than up to commanding the cavalry while you remain here in camp.”

He wasn’t just saying this to avoid the heavy responsibility of command. Since their less than victorious return to the front lines, public opinion had heavily shifted against Falling Rain and the Bekhai. At times, it felt like every soldier outside their immediate allies eyed the boss’s camp with distrust and disdain, and Rustram worried there were countless assassins lurking in and around Sinuji just waiting to take Falling Rain’s head. With an organized army of Defiled almost upon Sinuji, the next few hours were bound to be stressful and chaotic, which would be the perfect opportunity for a savvy opponent to fake a Defiled attack or falsify troop orders and send the boss headlong into danger. Better if he remained in camp where Military law and thousands of eyewitnesses could keep him safe, but he insisted on leading the cavalry and chariots in spite of the risks, no doubt eager to get stuck into battle as soon as possible instead of standing behind spiked pits and earthen barricades.

As if to confirm Rustram’s suspicions, the boss’s smile widened and he replied, “I don’t need to go, but I sure as hell want to. Don’t worry, we won’t be far, just outside the defences where we’ll have room to maneuver. I’ll be safe as anyone else in camp, so long as Colonel Hongji knows enough not to send his cavalry in for an unsupported charge.” Winking as if he’d just told a great joke, the boss patted his monstrous quin and said, “Come on Zabu, time to earn our keep.”

And then he rode off with his cattle, horse, and quin-mounted warriors, leaving Rustram in sole command of half the retinue and more.

Stifling a sigh, he turned his gaze to the soldiers under his charge and put his mind on how to best arrange them, a task made difficult considering he wasn’t sure where Colonel Hongji would place him in battle. While a smattering of Senior Captains commanded balanced, thousand-man retinues, most officers present were merely Captains leading hundred-man units, which gave rise to many... unique compositions of soldiers. Most officers strove for some semblance of diversity and commanded a varied unit of light and heavy infantry and/or cavalry, but most brought a mishmash of soldiers and armed them with whatever was available. For example, Zian’s retinue was comprised solely of heavy infantry with polearms aside from the few Experts set to guard him, so he would undoubtedly find himself on the front lines with his retinue. On the other extreme was Wu Gam, whose retinue looked less like professional soldiers and more like a motley crew of brigands sporting an assortment of patchwork armour and a medley of weapons ranging from massive, two-handed sabres to farmer’s pitchforks and scythes. Adding to the mayhem were the various beasts of war sprinkled among his ranks, with seven cattle, five rams, four boars, two horses, and a single flightless bird making up Wu Gam’s mounted contingent.

Were it not for the half-fox’s repeated refusals to allow the boss into his camp, Rustram suspected Rain would have poached the bird and rams for his menagerie. A cassowary, the boss called it, though Rustram suspected it was closely related to the Terror Birds found back home, a massive, feathered creature with piercing eyes and a flesh-rending beak.

To Rustram’s initial horror, he learned that most retinues in Sinuji resembled Wu Gam’s more than Zian’s, but after thinking it through, he realized he should have expected as much. Officers flocking to the front lines generally came in one of two varieties: eager young nobles in search of thrill and excitement, or grizzled old veterans who lacked the political influence to avoid this most perilous of postings. Putting it another way, Sinuji was filled with arrogant youths and professional shirkers, and Rustram wasn’t sure which group he would rather stand beside.

Not that he’d have a choice...

Thankfully, Colonel Hongji’s personal command accounted for half the soldiers present in Sinuji, seven-thousand light infantry and five-thousand heavy infantry supported by three-thousand light shock cavalry and scouts. A standard composition for an army from Central, wherein the heavy infantry held the line, the shock cavalry broke the enemy, and the light infantry moved in to clean up the survivors. Optimal for battle against rebels and bandits, but far from ideal for tussling with the Defiled. Luckily, the good Colonel was both able and willing to learn, which in Rustram’s experience was a rare combination amongst the ruling elite, so he waited for his orders with a modicum of hope for the battle ahead.

Word in camp was that the Defiled were only hours away, so after arranging the remaining soldiers into what he felt were appropriate battle-groups, Rustram ordered everyone to rest while they could. Though he tried to do the same, his mind refused to quiet down and cease its worrying as he sat on the front steps of the boss’s yurt. Everything was going to be fine. Colonel Hongji had left five thousand soldiers under the command of Major Sun Qiang, who Rustram met earlier today when the boss brought him to meet the Major and let their Senders learn each other’s signatures, whatever that meant. A gruff, soft-spoken man, the Major was of similar age to the Colonel and a career soldier, a steadfast and dependable sort whose presence Rustram found reassuring. Less reassuring was when the Major established the boss as the next in line for command if he should fall, and with the boss out with the cavalry, this left Rustram second in command of Sinuji’s northern flank. Hopefully, Major Sun Qiang was well protected by the four-thousand light infantry and one thousand heavy infantry he’d brought with him. The Imperial Army soldiers were the first line of defence on the northern flank, and the Major would call upon Rustram and the various officers as they were needed. What’s more, the Colonel’s three thousand light cavalry would be travelling with and fighting alongside the boss, which lessened the chances of Society assassins leaping out of the shadows. Rustram was probably worrying too much as he was wont to do.

...

Should he send a request to Hongji asking to put his archers and crossbows onto the rammed earth walls? Currently, they were lined with light infantry bearing a mixture of polearms and hand-weapons to keep the Defiled from running straight over the walls, but an elevated position for Rustram’s ranged contingent would work wonders. Then again, the elevation wouldn’t matter much unless they were situated on the forward wall, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to commit his people to such a dangerous location. Not that he didn’t think they could handle it since Sai Chou and her shabbily dressed woodsmen were amongst the most dangerous elements of the boss’s retinue, but with how heavy the fighting was expected to be, even the heavily armoured Death Corps would take substantial casualties if placed there, and the wagons would be elevation enough.

Not that it mattered. Soon, the fields of Sinuji would be filled with Defiled as far as the eye could see, and even Rustram would be hard pressed to miss a shot. Besides, ranged weapons only mattered if they had time enough to use them. Oh how he wished he had more Death Corps soldiers to hold the line, but he would have to make do with the hundred-and-forty or so the boss left behind. Despite their lack of riding skills, the Death Corps insisted on following behind to keep their charge safe, so the boss brought Green Unit out with him, travelling in their cattle-drawn wagons and under Li Song’s command. Coincidentally, this meant most, if not all of the Peak Experts were also now absent from the retinue, leaving Rustram less than optimistic about his chances for survival. Targeting Officers and Experts was a textbook opening move for the Defiled, and while they’d successfully seen off three separate Wraith attacks in the last eight days, that was with help from Argat, Lei Gong, OuYang Yuhuan, and three mysterious Experts Rain maddeningly refused to tell him about, all of whom were now absent.

At least Ravil and Siyar were still around, though they were a far cry from Argat’s reassuring presence. It wasn’t that Mentor didn’t think him valuable enough to assign him any protectors, but she’d scoffed at the idea when he brought it up. “How are you to grow as a warrior if coddled all the time?” She had asked, poking him firmly in the chest. “Trials and tribulations mean nothing if experienced without risk. Return alive, that is all I shall demand of you.”

A hard woman, Rustram’s Mentor, tough enough to chew nails and spit fire despite her frail physical condition. From the stories the Khishigs told, it wouldn’t surprise him to see her kill a Demon without moving from her chair, the Mountain Rose of the Bekhai who wielded a Piercing Star from the Heavens and brought death to her targets from a thousand paces.

Brimming with nervous energy, Rustram fought the urge to get up and move about because he would soon need every scrap of stamina he could bring to bear. Waiting was always the hardest part of soldiering, because fighting was easy enough. In battle, it was kill or be killed, but the greatest enemy one faced while waiting was yourself. Don’t overwork, overeat, over-drink, or overthink, all seemingly simple enough tasks, but it left nothing to do except wait and think. Rustram sat and thought about the various ways the battle could go wrong and all the terrible possibilities to come, before moving on to all the friends he’d lost and the ones he might lose in days to come, the people he’d left behind and ones he had yet to meet.

If Rustram died today, he would die without having met his wife or children. Was this better or worse than dying after meeting them?

“Well ain’t ye just a basket full o’ sunshine and rainbows.” Sauntering over with her long-legged strides, Sai Chou stopped to chat with her axe over her shoulders and a teasing smile on her lips. “So what’s got yer small-clothes twisted in a bunch, Ser?”

The unkempt Expert loved to provoke Rustram so, but why, she wouldn’t say. Maybe she disliked taking orders from a Martial Warrior so obviously inferior to herself, or perhaps it was her being her irritable self, but regardless of the reason, he saw no reason to play along. Mustering all the authority he could without standing, he ignored her question and asked, “Why aren’t you with your unit?”

Undeterred by his commanding tone, Sai Chou’s smile widened as she gestured back at the Divine Turtle moping nearby, her massive head resting on the ground as she waited for the boss to return alongside the rest of his pets. “Came by to give the big gal a pat and maybe cheer her up, but it don’t seem like I did much.” Glancing at the melancholic creature, Sai Chou shook her head and sighed. “Time was she’d lay in the mud like that fer days at a time and we all thought it was normal. We kept her safe, but we also kept our distance to give her peace and quiet, so none of us realized she was a lonely old gal aching fer companionship. Can’t be easy bein’ the only one of yer kind, but at least she’s got the bossman to keep her company now.” Chuckling beneath her breath, she added, “Shame the bossman’s turtle is so tiny. Gonna need a couple millennia afore he big enough, if ye know what I mean.” Laughing more than the joke deserved, she continued, “Fer serious though, I’m sure if we looked hard enough we could find a real turtle more her match, especially if we went lookin’ out in the Azure Sea. Hell, I saw mud-turtles back in Ping Yao which were big as a pony, but she chased all them suckers off whenever she saw em. Didn’t want to share her huntin’ grounds, I reckon.”

“...I see.” Marvellous as the Divine Turtle was, she was still a turtle, and an odd one at that, but Rustram understood the Protectorate’s reverence for her, though not their fanatical devotion. That said, he hardly wanted to chat with Sai Chou about prospective mates for the Divine Turtle, so he asked, “Your thoughts on the battle plan?”

Sputtering her lips, Sai Chou unceremoniously shoved him aside with her hips and sat beside him, her axe-head almost pressed against the side of his head. “Could be good, could be bad, who am I to say? I ain’t no scholar-ed lady or professional soldier from the city like yer used to meetin’, just a shabby hunter in over her head.”

And then it hit him. Sai Chou was nervous, just as nervous as he was. Why? She was clearly an Expert of great skill and easily the match of Dastan, Li Song and the like, though admittedly she was too old to be considered a young talent. How old exactly it was hard to say, for though she appeared to be a woman in her early thirties, her true age could range anywhere from the mid twenties to late forties, or perhaps even the early fifties if she took great care. Then again, judging by her dirt-streaked cheeks and tangled hair, Sai Chou was not a woman who put effort into her appearance, so she could be younger than her looks would imply and aged prematurely by exposure to the elements. Not that she was unattractive either, she had a rugged and mature look about her, with crystal clear eyes which seemed to pierce clean through him to reveal his very core.

Knowing better than to ask a woman her age, especially one with her weapon so close to his neck, Rustram cleared his throat and consoled her by saying, “Nonsense. If you’re in over your head, then I would have long since drowned.”

Elbowing him so hard she almost pushed him off the stairs, Sai Chou snorted and said, “Bah. Ain’t no sense lyin’, any fool can see ye was born fer this life. The Martial Path is one thing, but soldierin’ be a whole different beast. All this talk of numbers and strategies goes in one ear and out the other, not to mention all the work ye do with supplies and whatnot. I can barely keep track of how many knives I’m carryin’, much less figure out how much food the retinue’s gonna need.”

A quick glance told Rustram she only had the one knife strapped to her belt, which made him wonder if she had issues with counting or a plethora of throwing knifes concealed about her person. While he’d never seen her use one, he’d also never seen Sai Chou at a disadvantage in battle. “Well, I grew up a merchant’s son before I took up soldiering, so I’ve had plenty of practice with that sort of thing.”

Why he felt compelled to talk about his past, Rustram couldn’t say, but Sai Chou visibly brightened at the news. “Ye don’t say? Figured ye fer a military family seein’ how dedicated ye are with training. So what, ye grew up with silk-pants and silver spoons?”

“Ha. I wish. A middling merchant, father made enough to keep us fed, but we ate with wooden chopsticks and wore wool robes like everyone else. Still a better life than most, but nothing extravagant like you’d imagine. The greatest luxuries I had growing up were a room to myself and a nice outfit for special occasions.”

“Wow,” Sai Chou exclaimed with poorly feigned amazement. “Ye had more ‘n one outfit? Why, I was a woman grown afore I could afford to buy me a pair of boots, much less a second tunic. You city slickers sure know how to live it up.”

Rolling his eyes, Rustram shifted topics and continued chatting with Sai Chou, talking about anything and everything beneath the sun. Though self-professed as uneducated, she had a sharp mind and sharper wit, never missing an opportunity for wordplay and sarcasm though lenient enough to never draw blood. Before he knew it, they’d been talking for the better part of an hour without stumbling into a lull, right up until he asked, “So how did you come to join the Protectorate?”

His question was met with silence as the smile slipped from Sai Chou’s face, and he could tell it was not a story she wanted to tell. Taking a deep breath, she shook her head and shrugged. “Ain’t much to say. Papa was a decent hunter, but a piss-poor gambler. Got in deep with the wrong people who decided they’d get their money back faster if they sold me and Mama to a brothel. Couple o’ thugs came a knockin’, words were exchanged, things got heated, then Papa knifes one of em and tells us to run. Mama gets me to the back door but get grabbed, so she screams fer me to run fer the forest before turning back to claw at whoever got her.” Another shrug. “Weren’t long afore they came after me, so I kept runnin’. Knew the forest like the back of me hand, but them thugs weren’t too shabby themselves. Then it got dark and I stumbled down into the river, where the current carries me under. Next thing I know, I’m on dry land gasping fer air with the big gal hovering about, watching to see if I’m still alive. Once I climb to me feet, she heads right on back to the river, snappin’ up fish and fowl quick as she can.” Cracking a feeble smile, Sai Chou quipped, “Guess I’m lucky she’s picky about what she eats, eh? Anyhows, the Protectorate took me in, taught me what I needed to know, and here I am, a soldier marchin’ fer Falling Rain.”

“...I’m sorry about your parents.”

Unsure what else to say, Rustram sat statue-still for long, arduous seconds before she responded. “Yea, me too.” Shrugging for the third time, her eyes shone with a hard light as she ruminated on her past. “So was them thugs, after I went back fer em. They was real sorry.”

Mentor would probably like Sai Chou.

The horns sounded twice to signal Defiled were in sight, and Rustram shot to his feet and looked west as the sea of grass rustling with motion. Minutes passed in silence before the first Defiled finally came into view, far behind the leading figures as they trampled the grass in their passing. Rustram could almost make out their leather head-wraps and mottled-grey skin, though they still had a handful of kilometres to cross before they arrived at Sinuji proper. Soon, more figures revealed themselves as Defiled riders entered the scene, mounted atop horrific creatures of beak and tusks. More and more Defiled arrived, blanketing the plains in movement as they approached with ill intent. The Defiled vanguard stopped over a kilometre away, nestled in the untrampled grass and well out of bow and catapult range. Behind them, the Enemy forces continued trickling in by the thousands, slowly spreading out in a semi-circle around Sinuji like the jaws of a predator ready to devour its prey in a single bite.

The scouts had estimated the force at three-hundred thousand strong, a good match against Sinuji’s paltry twenty-nine thousand. This clash marked the first major conflict between Imperial and Defiled forces since the fall of the Western province, and though they were outnumbered by ten-to-one, such odds were typical in battles against the Enemy. That said, knowing this didn’t make it easier to accept the horde growing before Rustram’s eyes. Three-hundred thousand was not a considerable force in the eyes of the Empire, but it was the largest force Rustram had ever seen. In Sanshu, Butcher Bay had numbered just over twenty-thousand strong, perhaps thirty thousand once you added in the Defiled irregulars they picked up during their march to the city and the traitor guards under Mao Jianghong, but now there were ten times that number of Defiled settling in on the plains of Sinuji.

Mother in Heaven, they even had an armoured contingent reminiscent of Yo Ling’s Butchers, sporting the bulky brigandine suits favoured by the West and standing at full attention beneath the scorching noon sun. In a moment of horrified clarity, Rustram realized that these disciplined Defiled were undoubtedly the surviving warriors of the west, city guards and dedicated soldiers infected by the Father’s taint and turned against their former comrades. Would this be his fate if captured? To take up arms against the people of the Empire and devote himself to wholesale slaughter?

No, better to die a free man than succumb to the Father’s whispered lies.

A glimmer of steel flashed before Rustram’s eyes and he followed it to find a dagger embedded in the throat of a dying Wraith, its pale face etched with surprise as it flopped to the ground. Rapier in hand, Rustram shouted, “Wraiths in camp! Sound the alarm!” Placing himself back-to-back with Sai Chou, he watched Ravil cleave a wraith from shoulder to hip while Bulat sank his axe into another Wraith’s face and almost lost his hand in the process. Isolated and alone, Silva’s eyes darted left and right, unaware of the shadows slinking up behind him, but before Rustram could shout a warning, Siyar appeared out of nowhere and lopped off the Wraith’s head.

The scraping of boots alerted him to danger from above and he shoved Sai Chou away. Raising his rapier to attack, he performed an awkward Deer Parts the Underbrush, and his quick thinking was rewarded with two metallic clangs, smashing two poisoned weapons aside even as his sword scythed through the descending Wraith’s neck. Blood and viscera rained down on Rustram mere moments before the corpse smashed against his chest, driving the breath from his lungs and the strength from his feet. Woozy and lightheaded, he found himself staring at the sky with aching lungs and a massive headache while Sai Chou chuckled from out of sight. Leaning into frame, her hair hung loosely as she shoved the corpse off him and helped him sit up, her eyes still scanning for threats. “Thanks fer the save,” she said, none too gently hoisting him to his feet. Mother in Heaven she was strong. “You good?”

“Yea. Yes. I am fine.”

Spitting a few times to clear the taste of blood from his mouth, turned around to face her but she hissed in reproach. “We ain’t clear of danger yet, merchant boy. Watch my back and I’ll watch yers.” A dainty grunt, followed by the hiss of steel told Rustram she did in fact have more than one dagger, a thought which worried him to no end. The woman was intimidating enough without knowing she had multiple weapons hidden about her person. Ravil could make it look like he pulled blades out of thin air, and if Sai Chou could do the same, then she was far more dangerous than she let on. It took a certain type of mindset to master a skill like hiding weapons about one’s body, an almost irrational paranoia and overwhelming blood-thirst which normal, well-adjusted people could never achieve. Even if she were the most beautiful woman in the world, Rustram would be insane to court her.

Then again... she was easy on the eyes and fun to chat with, plus he found her twisted sense of humour rather charming...

A deafening shout rose out from the gathered Defiled army, and there was no time left for watching for Wraiths or pondering romantic notions. Wiping the blood from his face, he barked orders as the ground shook beneath the Defiled charge, readying his soldiers to lend aid if the Enemy should break through. Falling in line around him with three other Death Corps, Red One saluted and Sent, “Major Sun Qiang has fallen. Command of the Northern flank is yours, Mister Rustram. Your soldiers await you on the front lines.”

Oh no. No, no, no...

Sounding much calmer than he had any right to be, Rustram picked up the pace and said, “Inform them I am on my way over and they are to hold the line until further notice. Red Unit, Wang Bao’s irregulars, and the Protectorate will escort me there.” They wouldn’t get in the way, and best to put those bows and crossbows to work as soon as possible, for every soldier in Sinuji would need to kill ten Defiled a piece in order for the battle to be won. There was also the minor issue regarding the many Demons he could just make out lurking in the distance, including the overgrown, waterlogged abomination responsible for the retinue’s early return from patrol. Worst of all, morale would be an issue if Sun Qiang was seen dead or injured, and no career soldier would be pleased to take orders from a no-name foreigner grunt leading a bunch of bow-wielding peasants.

As if sensing his thoughts, Sai Chou Sent, “Straighten up, merchant boy. Yer taller than you think. Ain’t gonna be no drowning today.”

For some odd reason, her reassurance untwisted his belly and bolstered his courage. Head raised high, he gave her a grateful nod before handing command over to Bulat and heading for the front, where the Defiled would soon arrive to carry out wholesale slaughter. The time for fear and self-loathing was over. Thousands of lives were at stake here, and if he didn’t step up, then they would fall where they stood. Besides, there wasn’t much he’d need to do, the Colonel would soon hear of their plight and...

Oh Mother in Heaven... if Hongji and a few others fell too, then Rustram would be left in sole command of all of Sinuji, something no one would ever want to see.

No one.

Chapter Meme