The Long March - Raising the Stakes

(Source)

The Major looked out of the tent, the sky was getting lighter. He shivered as he thought back on the ambush last year, on the first time that the regulars had been opposed by the militia in the field. He remembered shooting the man who had refused his orders. The day had started bloody and became bloodier still. He remembered the long retreat, the bivouac, then the turning back into the forest and that nasty hill fight. It felt like it had been just yesterday ...

"Major?"

He shook himself, "Sorry Joshua, woolgathering, some of those memories are painful. What might have been solved by talking, wound up becoming a bigger mess with dead on both sides. But here we are ..."

At that moment a man poked his head into the tent, "Sir, I've just come from brigade. We're to hold here for the moment, do you want to go and speak with the Colonel? He thought you might ..."

"Yes, I reckon I better."

Nodding his thanks to Joshua, the Major followed the corporal. Near the brigade headquarters tent he saw the Brigadier, talking with the Major's regimental commander. His colonel spotted him and waved him over.

Saluting the Brigadier and then the Colonel, the Major spoke, "Morning, Sirs. New orders?"

The Brigadier nodded to the Colonel, who answered, "Yes Major, we've been ordered to hold here and await reinforcements from the capital."

"The provincial capital?"

The brigadier answered that one, "No Major, from the capital."

Looking puzzled, the Major pointed out, "It would take them a week of hard marching to get here."

"Yes, but they left three days ago," the Colonel answered the Major's puzzled look.

"Who are they, how many?" the Major was still trying to get his head around this. Why would they have set off without waiting at camp for the reinforcements? Then it struck him, show the enemy one thing, then do something else.

"We're getting a cohort of Imperials, the Fourth, Feroces Victores.¹"

"Imperials, away from the Ruler?"

"The Ruler's son is coming with them, the General Staff has indicated a need for the boy to have experience in the field."

"Ah, Sir, the man is ..."

"Yes, he's a drunkard and a wastrel, but those are the orders," the Brigadier left no room for debate, but the Major spoke up anyway. Something the Colonel often mentioned in their meetings together.

"The Fourth has never been in combat, as a unit, they have veterans in the ranks, but they're mostly people from the constabulary. Police, not soldiers." The Major was thoroughly confused now, an Imperial unit, unbloodied in combat, led by a fool, what sort of reinforcements were those?

"I know, but that's that. You're dismissed, gentlemen." The Brigadier ended the discussion with a crisp nod.

Five days later, the Imperial Fourth Cohort marched into camp. Their equipment and uniforms were immaculate, it looked as though they had spent at least a day cleaning themselves up before making their grand entrance.

"Parade ground soldiers, good for parades and attacking unarmed civilians," the Sergeant spat on the ground after saying that. She came from the hill peoples in the south of the Empire. A people who had no tolerance for pretense and show.

"Easy Sarge, perhaps they will be of some use. They certainly look pretty."

"Sure, Major, they'll attract rebel fire. There's no love lost for those bastards among the militia."

"It's a cynic you are, Esther," the Major offered with a grin.

"Nossir, I'm a realist, those pretty boys won't stand up in a fight where the other side is shooting back, mark my words."

The Major wondered if her disdain for the Fourth had anything to do with the lack of females in their ranks. The commander of the Fourth had shed all of the women under his command when he had received word of their assignment.

"You think the Prince cares that there are no women in his little command?" The Major said, looking carefully at his Sergeant

The Sergeant spat again, "Yeah, no skirt to chase after hours. At least it might keep the bastard from embarrassing himself. Maybe he'll stay drunk enough to not mess up this operation."

The Major shook his head and turned to watch the Fourth fall out and proceed to set up their encampment. Things were starting to get interesting, he had a bad feeling about this campaign, a very bad feeling.

"Sir?"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"Try not to look too worried, it upsets the troops when they see you pouting," the Sergeant had a smile on her face when she said that, though it didn't extend to her eyes.

"If you weren't so good at your job, I might take offense to that, Sergeant. But I'll behave, no use upsetting the troops is there?"

"No Sir, that wouldn't do at all."

¹ "Fierce Victors." Imperial regiments, those directly under the Ruler's command, were called cohorts.