The Empress of Beasts, page 32
part #13 of The Wandering Inn Series
Pisces flicked his fingers as if to indicate how embarrassing that might be. He trailed off, absently working his way down the list of battles. Erin stared at the first entry.
Tiqr’s forces meet a joint-army led by Savere and Nerrhavia at the edges of the Reen Plains. Both forces withdraw at sundown.
——
The Reen Plains echoed with voices. Screaming. [Soldiers] met in the dirt and grass, struggling, stabbing at each other, slashing, pulling back. Colliding.
Blood ran down from the Humans. Drowned People bled the same color of red. Even the String-people bled. But they grabbed at their limbs, retreating, sewing themselves closed. And their ranks held steady as Savere’s irregulars dueled Tiqr’s warriors on the edges of the fray.
“Push them! Send the 5th Hemp battalion forwards!”
[General] Thelican stood atop his mobile command center. He scowled, watching with a cup of water in hand as someone fanned cool air towards him. He drank, his eyes alight on the battle.
Tiqr’s forces had met the bulk of Nerrhavia’s army. And despite the tough Hemp foot-soldiers possessing superior numbers and gear, they were stalemated. Tiqr’s colorful warriors were doing well, withdrawing and charging, refusing to hold their lines.
But that wasn’t what gave them their strength. Thelican saw darting shapes amid the soldiers. And then a bloom of magic. Not fire; the Stitch-mages didn’t use that element. But Tiqr would. Their [Mages] were trying to set fire to the String-people. It was difficult to do to the thick skins of the String-warriors of the Hemp caste, but it was still possible.
And String-people feared fire. Even this far away, Thelican felt a lurch of fear. It almost made him miss the snarling animals that leapt, taking advantage of the flinching [Soldiers] as they backed away from the fire. A hyena bore down a String-warrior, powerful jaws tearing, and then bounded away as a warrior of Tiqr stabbed the String-warrior through the neck.
Dead. Thelican felt nothing for the fallen Hemp warrior, for all that beheading was death for a String-person if they weren’t saved immediately. He was more concerned with the battle.
“Where is Savere’s [Commander]? Find them! Order a [Daring Charge] there—overrun those damn animals before they can pull back!”
One of the [Tacticians] did so. The Stitch-warriors surged forwards, charging at the retreating hyenas. Thelican scowled as the animals darted into the ranks of Tiqr’s soldiers and they took the charge instead.
They had so many animals. Thelican wasn’t a stranger to wardogs or so on, but Tiqr’s armies were using hyenas. He had seen a lion fighting before it was brought down—the [Beast Tamers] were an actual standing force in their military. It made fighting them—tricky.
But he had yet to unleash Nerrhavia’s dreaded chariots. Thelican knew his chariots were itching to move in, but he wanted the right moment. He waited, turning to see a [Rider] bearing down on him. His escort drew their swords, but Thelican lifted one hand.
“Let her pass.”
He looked disapprovingly at Savere’s [Commander], a woman. It was apparently the Siren of Tide’s wish that all her officers be female. The woman spat as she climbed the dais. She grabbed a cup and drank. She’d been fighting.
“Those bastards have too many animals! What’re you waiting for? Unleash the fucking chariots! My people are getting torn apart on the wings!”
She snapped at him. Thelican bristled at her tone, and some of his guards half-unsheathed their blades. But he shook his head after a moment.
“I am intending to. Pull your wings back, [Commander]. Our chariots will take the flanks.”
“Watch out. The [Empress] is here. And she’s got those—”
The Saverian [Commander] jerked her head. Thelican smiled tightly. He saw them, waiting behind the ranks of their soldiers. Tiqr’s army had yet to unleash their trump card as well.
Grand Elephants. They were armored beasts, ridden by [Beast Tamers] and crews of archers. Some of the animals were bare of passengers, just armored with spikes on their tusks. Thelican could see the [Commander] from Savere eying them nervously. But they were a paltry number in front of his chariots.
“Send word to the First-Chariots. Order them to begin their assault. Drive from each wing—order the Hemp to charge!”
The order went out. Thelican watched with satisfaction as his chariots drove up in two wedges alongside the main ranks of his army. They were going to hit Tiqr’s forces in a classic pincer formation! Their infantry and beasts weren’t armored elites; they couldn’t stop the chariots.
And then Thelican saw Tiqr’s forces pulling back. The foot streamed backwards, the beasts racing alongside the Humans. He frowned and saw the elephants moving. They were advancing in a line. Tiqr had deployed nearly a thousand to this battle.
Only a thousand. But…Thelican paused.
“They’re moving up without support?”
“They’ll get crushed. You can take them down, right? We’re not getting near those things.”
The woman looked uneasy. Thelican paused and then snapped at his [Strategists].
“Tell the chariots to circle. Bring them down with javelins and archers! Move the Hemp forwards in pike formation!”
His army scrambled to obey. The Hemp warriors moved back, letting rows of pikes forwards along with archers. Thelican watched, uneasily. The [Commander] pointed.
“Look!”
There she was. The Empress of Beasts. She had taken to the field herself. She sat atop one of the largest elephants. The huge Grand Elephant wore silvery armor, and the Empress of Beasts was holding a javelin. Thelican frowned.
“[Seer]. Appraisal?”
“Magic. Returning. Tiqr’s heirloom—Tiqr’s Tusk.”
“Hm. I want her taken down. Surround her—bring her in. Twenty thousand gold to the chariot that captures her alive!”
Even the Saverian woman looked up at that bounty. Thelican settled back, sitting down in the chair. His army was moving forwards, bracing for the charge. He felt a flutter of unease and dismissed it. It was fine.
The first rain of arrows struck the Grand Elephants from afar. Archers drew back and loosed. The elephants and riders both screamed, and Thelican smiled. But—he saw arrows embedding themselves in the outer hide of the elephants or even bouncing off. And the riders, experienced, were taking shelter behind cover built into their saddles for that purpose. He scowled.
“Order the [Archers] to use [Piercing Shot]—”
Across the battlefield, the Empress of Beasts raised her spear. Nsiia’s face was covered by a mask of carved elephant bone. She saw the warriors of Nerrhavia drawing back for another hail of arrows. The Stitch-warriors were braced, safe behind a line of spears and pikes. The chariots were waiting. She pointed forwards and screamed one word.
“Charge.”
Beneath her, Thef raised his trunk and blew. The sound was echoed a thousand times. Tiqr’s elephants raced forwards, bellowing. They came straight at the foot soldiers, at the chariots, ignoring the arrows, the pikes.
“[Bodies of Iron]!”
Vasraf bellowed behind her. Nsiia threw her spear, saw it go through a line of Hemp warriors. It flew back towards her and she braced, grabbing it. Thef charged. The spears were aimed at his unprotected underbelly. But the skill had turned his thick hide to iron. And the Nerrhavian forces had made another mistake. They had brought horse-killers. Boar-spears, even.
Not elephant killers. Thef swung his head and the first rank disappeared. Nsiia saw a figure flying past her head, twisted, threw her spear. Ahead of her, an [Archer Captain] fell, headless. Vasraf loosed an arrow from his bow and a magical explosion tore ranks of Stitch-soldiers apart.
And Thef charged. Straight through the first rank, the second. He lowered his head and his tusks came up. Nsiia and Vasraf held on, and more bodies landed around her. The elephant was still running. His feet crushed warriors into paste. He wasn’t stopping.
“Dead gods.”
The first charge had gone straight through the ranks of Hemp warriors. The elephants had gone through the pikes like—Thelican looked around. Three of the smaller elephants had gone down. Some were injured, but the rest were charging forwards. One of his [Strategists] made a strangled noise.
“The chariots—”
“Drive them in! Ignore the Hemp! Stop that charge!”
On the battlefield, the order was unnecessary. The chariots were already moving, cutting off the elephant’s backs. [Chariot Drivers] drove their horses closer as their passengers threw javelins and lashed out with blades, shot bows, aiming at the elephants. Nsiia saw and pointed.
“Destroy them!”
Vasraf blew a horn and half the elephants turned. They charged, some catching chariots and pulverizing the riders and carriages. But the rest were pulling out of range, moving around the slower giants. Vasraf blew another horn.
Among the foot soldiers, one of Tiqr’s [Strategists] pointed. She aimed at a flank of elephants charging a circling group of chariots keeping their distance.
“[Rapid Acceleration].”
The elephants sped up. First-Chariot Bereid looked up as the first elephant aimed straight at his chariot. He raised an enchanted javelin, desperately ordering his driver to dodge. Too late. He looked up into a huge face, a screaming mouth.
“Nerrhavia’s—”
He disappeared.
“Hit those elephants! All battalions, loose!”
“Sir, our soldiers are—”
“Loose! Stitch-warriors fear no arrows!”
The [Captains] were desperately ordering their archers to fire. But the elephants were charging at them. General Thelican watched in disbelief. His neat formations were disappearing. The elephants just wouldn’t stop. Even horses had to halt after hitting infantry. But the elephants just rammed through them. Savere’s [Commander] was shouting.
“They’re pushing with their army!”
“Then push back! Bring up the reserves! [Mages], concentrate on those elephants! Bring them down one at a time!”
Thelican roared in a fury. He saw the Empress of Beasts screaming atop her mount, her mask of bone turning her face into a horrific visage.
“Bring her down!”
Arrows flew. Javelins struck Thef, breaking past his armor. Magefire was hitting her beloved friend. Nsiia could hear him screaming. She was screaming too. But neither stopped. They kept coming. She threw her spear and it went through a [Mage]. Then she turned.
“Retreat! Healing!”
The words turned the ranks of elephants. The [Riders] leapt from their positions, tearing at satchels of potions. They began splashing them on the elephants, some feeding the liquid into trunks. And the elephants stampeded back, healing, as Tiqr’s foot charged.
Nsiia did not do the same. She just bent low, hugging Thef. And her skin was torn, her arms and legs and body broken, stabbed in dozens of places. She reached for the potion Vasraf handed her and drank it. And her wounds began to close.
Below her, Thef’s wounds healed with the same rapidity. He raised his trunk and blew a furious call. Nsiia patted him. As he bled, she bled. As he healed—
“[Sympathetic Healing].”
She looked back. General Thelican stared at her. He slowly sat back down.
Of course. You could heal elephants. And the [Beast Tamers]—he watched as the battle rejoined. The Saverian [Commander] was licking her lips. One of Thelican’s [Strategists] looked at him very nervously.
“Orders, [General]?”
The Stitch-[General] paused. And then his voice was calm. Measured.
“This is the report I will be tending Queen Yisame. Tiqr’s vanguard is yet considerable. I would prefer to surround them and wear them down with a joint-force. Their main force are the Grand Elephants and their riders. They give Tiqr a powerful vanguard, even outnumbered. We must slowly kill each one to prevent them from healing. When they are gone, Tiqr’s hammer is gone. Compose a message to that effect.”
The [Strategist] nodded silently. A slave rushed forwards and Thelican turned.
“Additionally—I request the usage of the Named Adventurer, Alked Fellbow. Consult the [Quartermaster]. Arm our best [Archers] with poisoned arrows. Our [Javelineers] on chariots likewise. The Hemp will advance using polearms. Pike formations. Withdraw the 1st and 3rd divisions. Move forwards the 8th, the 9th, and the 10th. Commander Calin, Savere’s forces will supplement ours. I assume your irregulars have poisons?”
“You’re going to keep fighting after that?”
Commander Calin pointed at the carnage, her face disbelieving. Thelican frowned.
“The chariots were a loss. But the foot were only Hemp. Tiqr’s army will tire. Mine has yet to bleed. We will be wearing down their elephants first. This was one setback. The battle is far from over.”
He sat back down, deliberately took a cup of water and drained it. And he did not look at the Empress of Beasts. She was riding down the ranks of her warriors, screaming as she held her spear aloft. And they roared, and the animals howled.
They charged again, like thunder. The Reen Plains ran with blood. The String-warriors turned to thread. And they fell. Flesh, thread. The dead.
——
“They’re stalemated across these battle lines. Multiple armies fighting, forcing Tiqr’s forces to split or cede ground. The main forces are fighting and retreating here.”
Pisces pointed. Erin nodded. The other armies were advancing. Surrounding the opponent, like an army of pawns. They couldn’t jump or do much that was special, but they could bring down even a queen. Slowly, one by one.
But—slowly. She looked at the parchment.
“It’s six days since the fighting began and they only got that far? They were here when they started fighting.”
She pointed to a position on the map, Reen Fields, barely past the current lines. Pisces nodded.
“Tiqr is posing a sturdy defense. A systematic withdrawal; guerilla tactics. That is what their troops excel at, given their animal components. We can infer that from the reading. But look here.”
Another line.
“Battle at the Yov Oasis. This time between Deimos’ army and Tiqr’s. Tiqr holds it. The Laughing Brigade confirmed spotted on the front. They begin winning some battles. Wait, who are the Laughing Brigade? Is that a mercenary group or something?”
“No. A unit. A royal force. It is a Skill of the Empress of Beasts.”
“…How?”
Pisces paused to explain the concept of a unit to Erin. She had never met the Darksky Riders, but she got it after a minute.
“Units. Huh. So they’re like, elites?”
“Not quite. Say rather that they all possess an ability granted to them by nature of being in their unit.”
“I don’t get it.”
Pisces drummed a hand on the table.
“Units are…special existences. They are granted power just for existing. Some have magical abilities each [Soldier] may call upon. For instance? The ability to ignite their blades at will, regardless of the enchantment on the blade or their own magical ability.”
The [Innkeeper] frowned.
“What, any time they want?”
“That’s right.”
“Any [Soldier]. In the unit.”
“The Scorchblades were a Terandrian force numbering six thousand who all possessed that ability. Ordinary commoners without a shred of magic inducted into the unit could ignite their blades for twenty minutes at a time. Not just in battle. A unit can be astoundingly versatile or powerful. There are limits. But it is essentially a free Skill granted to them simply be being part of that unit.”
Erin considered this. The hair on her neck tried to rise.
“That’s not fair.”
The [Necromancer] shrugged, trying not to look too jealous.
“That would be the difference between a [King] and lesser classes. Royalty provides benefits. Of course, I have heard of [Commander]-type classes gaining such Skills. Even examples of high-level [Captains] who could lead a unit themselves. But a [King] may have multiple such forces among their Skills. The King of Destruction notably had three.”
Erin whistled. She was beginning to see why people didn’t like this Flos guy. She looked down at the parchment.
“This Laughing Brigade. What can they do?”
Pisces frowned. He raised a finger and consulted the notes.
“…I don’t know.”
“Are they funny?”
——
The Laughing Brigade struck during the night. Deimos’ army was resting after a day of skirmishing. To his credit, [General] Heic had deployed sentries and fortified the camp. It still did no good.
The first sound that broke the night was laughter. Giggling. It was coming from the [Sentries]. Their reliefs found them standing at their posts, laughing uncontrollably. It was uncontrollably chuckling. And their howling, hysterical laughter. They laughed uncontrollably as they tried to blow into the warning horns.
The warning came too late. General Heic awoke to the sounds of laughter. Loud, harsh, echoing through his camp. He struggled out of his bedding as his slaves found him his armor.
The camp was under attack. Dark shapes and bounding animals tore through the camp. The laughter was everywhere. It wore at Heic’s ears. He felt at them, shouting questions. And then he realized the laughter wasn’t just auditory. It was in his head.
He couldn’t hear anything. That was it. His hands came away, bleeding. The laughter was all he heard. He saw [Soldiers] fighting, unorganized, some even attacking each other in the darkness. Their [Officers] couldn’t restore order with their voices.
And the laughter. A hyena leapt out of the darkness, bringing down a man. Others attacked the camels, fighting alongside the Humans who leapt forwards, attacking and retreating in the confusion. They were laughing too. But it wasn’t laughter. It was mocking. A hyena’s high-pitched cackle. It drove at Heic’s ears. He screamed orders, grabbing his sword and donning his armor.
