Page 93 of The Infernal Battalion

“Th-the last I saw General Kurot, he and the rest of his staff were falling back northward. Enemy infantry broke de Manzet’s line along the Daater and pushed in his flank. A cavalry charge came within a few minutes of getting us all.” He shook his head. “I got separated. I thought I’d had it when your cavalry found me.”

“How bad is it?” Cyte said. “Is de Manzet still in action?”

“Bad,” the lieutenant said. “At least one whole division is gone. The Eighth was still fighting, last I saw, but they were close to surrounded.” He looked on the verge of tears. “You have to attack, General d’Ivoire. Turn and break through to de Manzet.”

Too late. Much too late. That was what Marcus had suggested to Kurot hours ago, catching the false Third Division between hammer and anvil. Kurot had sent him in search of a larger victory, though, and now the chance was gone, the anvil broken. And we are well and truly fucked.

“Someone get this man some water,” he said aloud, and a corporal jumped to obey. Once the lieutenant had been led away, Marcus called for a map and unrolled the small, leather-​backed version he used in the field. It didn’t tell him anything he didn’t already know, but he stared at it anyway, in hopes of some kind of revelation.

“This is bad,” Cyte said.

“That,” Marcus said, “is a considerable understatement.”

“Indeed,” Fitz murmured.

Kurot had expected to put them across Janus’ supply line. Instead, with the entire left flank of the army swept away, Janus was now squarely astride theirs, between Marcus’ troops and the road back to the Illifen passes and Vordan City. It hadn’t even been a complicated trap, just a simple application of force at the enemy’s weakest point. Damn Kurot. I knew he was too clever for his own good.

“Under other circumstances,” Fitz said, “I’d say this was the time to start asking the enemy commander for terms of surrender.”

“No,” Marcus said. Raesinia is counting on me. I’m not giving up yet. “Not unless there’s no other choice. Are you facing any pressure yet?”

“Nothing substantial,” Fitz said. “But my flank is open. There’s nothing stopping them from circling around and attacking from three sides.”

“So we have to move before they can get themselves organized,” Marcus said.

“Move where?” Cyte said. “You can’t be thinking of attacking the city.”

“And they’ll be waiting for us to attack toward de Manzet,” Fitz added. “Those troops along the river will pounce as soon as we turn our backs.”

“So we hit them first,” Marcus said. “Push right through them and cross the Daater. Then turn about and hold the line of the river against anyone who tries to follow.”

Cyte frowned at the map. “Is there even a crossing?”

“Not a bridge,” Marcus admitted. “But there’s a couple of fords marked here.”

“We’ll never get wagons across,” Fitz said. “And even the guns will be difficult.”

“Forget the wagons. Once we’re past the river, we can get fresh supplies from the towns to the south. Janus hasn’t reached them yet. Their depots should still be full.”

“Even if we manage it,” Cyte said, “we won’t hold the river line. Not for long. If nothing else, Janus can march down the Pale and outflank us.”

“We’d have to fall back south,” Fitz said.

“Exactly,” Marcus said. “We’ll retreat, as slowly as we can manage. As long as we keep him in play, Janus can’t turn away and head for Vordan City without splitting his forces. That gives Queen Raesinia time to put together a defense.”

Cyte shook her head. “You really think she can come up with something?”

“There are still troops coming in from the frontiers, recruits in training.” Marcus gritted his teeth. “I’m not giving up unless she says so. This is the best we can do to help her.”

“I agree,” Fitz said. “But there’s still at least a division in our way.”

“Then let’s get started.”

*

Some hasty reorganization followed. The Girls’ Own, driven by Abby and the shouts of dozens of frantic sergeants, double-​timed back past the rest of the division, shifting the skirmish screen to the rear. A detachment went to the baggage troops, stripping the wagons of everything that could be carried and freeing the horses for use as pack animals. The light cavalry of the reserve remained on the left, sending regular reports on the steadily diminishing sounds of battle from the direction of de Manzet’s divisions.

One of Fitz’ regiments was assigned to the left as well, forming up to watch for any attempt by enemy infantry to push inward from that direction. Blackstream’s regiment performed a similar duty on the right, facing the walls of Alves. That left five regiments—​Sevran’s, de Koste’s, and three of Fitz’—​to push forward. Opposing them were three regiments, which Marcus’ scouts reported as being from the old Tenth Division. Marcus knew the commander, General Beaumartin, only distantly, but he wondered if the man was still in charge or if he’d been replaced with someone more pliable. Or is he doing the job with glowing red eyes?