Chapter 472: Set Sail

"They have begun their march." Adam stood before the map laid out on the table inside Marcu’s war tent. Grabbing a wooden carving sculpt as a dragon, he dragged it forward towards the Gotic-Ammary border. "The scout couldn’t be exact, but there are at least fifteen thousand marching this way."

"Fifteen..." Repeating the word, he moved across the table and grabbed another wooden carving sculpted as a dragon and dragged it across the table. Doing it a third time, he then moved towards the remaining seven dragon sculptures. "Thirty-five thousand across the Tears. They have enough ships for that."

Adam shrugged, unable to believe it himself, "If the news is correct, Lisa will attack the Church; maybe they moved some forces away to defend the core lands."

"Maybe, but at most ten thousand. They have enough in reserve to defend without a full retreat." Marcus stared at the map, moving the wooden dragons. Staring at the map, his mind pictured the terrain. He had visited it in person and had a rough understanding of what he was working with.

"General. We need an order." Adam quietly asked, seeing Marcus taking longer than usual to answer.

"Give me a minute." Lifting a finger, he shot a glare at Adam’s way to keep him silent before wrapping the edge of the table with his hands. Staring, he pictured everything with each position. "We will draw them deeper into our lands. Feign retreat." Marcus picked up a lion carving and slammed it on the map. It rested on a small hilltop outside of Chent. "Draw them into here. They don’t know the existence of the cannon. We will hide here. And when they hear the cannon fire echoing in the hills, they will run home."

"We are going to give them land, Marcus? Are you sure?" Marcus looked at Adam and smirked, shaking his head.

"Is this how William felt?" Adam shot him a confused look, but raising his hand, he brushed it off, "It’s nothing. I just can’t help but realise it’s my turn to be second-guessed by everyone now." Letting out a deep breath, Marcus rubbed the hilt of his sword, "We aren’t trained well enough with cannons to risk bringing them onto the open field, Adam. It has to be here."

"If that is your command, General." Adam looked back at the map after saluting, "But it’s too much crossing the Tears. His Majesty will be outnumbered."

"We must trust in him." Marcus took a deep breath, "He says he has a plan, and he hasn’t failed us yet. All we can do is trust him." Adam clenched his fists and nodded. Marcus saw how tense he was and smiled, slapping his shoulder, "Don’t worry too much. He has most of the Unyielding with him, and William was forced out of retirement to defend the coast if Severia makes a landing."

"It is our job to worry about him, Marcus. We are sworn to protect."

"Right now, I need you to forget about that. I need you at your best for this to work. We may not be spread thin, but this is an enemy that is far superior to the Livoniks and Safrids. They have centuries of experience." Marcus seriously said, "If you can’t get in the right mind, you are useless."

Adam looked at him and liked. The nerves in his eyes vanished, replaced by the stern coldness. "Good." With a final look at the map, Marcus stepped outside, followed closely by Adam. Lifting his hand to block the blinding sun, he stared at the thousands of spilders waiting in the camps, ready for the order.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Marucs lazily yawned, completely unfazed by the start of the war, "Let us end this quickly. I want to go home and see my brats." Adam smiled and continued following. All around, the soldiers stood up and watched Marcus, following behind him as he walked out of the camp. Stepping up on a platform, he looked at those who followed him and smiled, "MEN..."

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The thunderous marching of Silesian troops spread across the open fields of the Empire. Having crossed the river that split the empire, Alexei knew he was on the path of no return. The war would end in victory or defeat. There was no other choice. He wanted to be nervous and tense, but looking up to his left, he couldn’t.

The carriage alongside slowly trudged along, Ivan standing atop the roof, struggling to stay there as he slammed his fist into his chest in time with the marching. The bright smile on his face was out of place for men who knew they could never return home, but it had a positive effect. Much like Alexei, none of the soldiers who saw him could remain nervous.

Hiding his smile, he looked down and chuckled. Ivan turned to face him and laughed before raising his hands to get the soldier following behind him. The sound of their marching didn’t stop, but the joking and stories they told one another did. Opening his mouth, he slammed his chest in a rhythm.

"Oh Katerina..." Ivan’s voice belted out for hundreds to hear, and when they heard his first words, they laughed. They knew instantly what he was starting to sing, a famous folk song in many villages.

Alexei smiled as one of his trusted men came to his side. "We have reports from the Gotic border." The man turned to look at Ivan, who swayed side to side, singing his heart out as the men following behind did the same. "He knows how to keep morale high at least."

"The soldiers love him for a reason." Alexei said happily, before turning serious, "What is the report?"

"Heavily fortified. They were expecting us. It’s too much for something hastily put together." The man carried one, "But luckily for us, there is a lack of Severian and church forces, only a few regiments sprinkled in the defences."

"So we only have to deal with the Gotic’s." Alexie smiled, "Good. This will be easy then."

"We can’t be arrogant. The Gotics may be a joke, but their position is strong. They know our tactics after years of fighting your brother."

"My brother was a foolish bastard who didn’t know how to lead or fight." The bitterness in his voice was clear, thinking of his brother, "Besides, as much as they wish to show a strong front, they are stretched thin, focusing on the Ammarys and Lisa. I am not arrogant but confident."

"Crossing the river will be hard. They are holding a purely defensive position. Our forts are undermanned, and they still refuse to attack, even when goaded." The man continued, "Going through the Tears is also off the table. Reports show a large fleet forming. We don’t have the manpower to attack it."

Alexei stayed silent for a few seconds. "Where is it weakest?"

"The north-east. But calling it a weak position..."

"It doesn’t matter. Send word down the column. We will march for the North-east." Looking up at Ivan, he grabbed the man before he could ride off, "IVAN!" Calling to his son, the young man looked down and skillfully climbed down from the roof of the carriage, onto the horse pulling it. "Take a quarter of the men and assault the south. I don’t need you to cross the river, but to draw attention to it. I can trust you to do this right?"

"Of course, Father. But if the opportunity arises, I can cross-correct?"

"If it arises, do it. Follow the river north and encircle our enemy in the north. Under no circumstances are you to push deeper into their lands without me. You will die if you do." Alexei turned back to the man, "Send my command. We will split at the next village."

The man lowered his head and turned around, riding down the marching men who continued to sing.

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"This is the last one." Ramiel softly said, looking at the final warship being loaded with soldiers. "Twenty thousand, men altogether."

"Good." Gabriel smiled and patted his comrade on the shoulder, "I pray you good fortune." Walking forward, Rameil formed a symbol of Sol of Gabriel from behind, giving him a silent prayer. Climbing up onto the ship, Gabreil looked out at the port before turning to the sea where most of the fleet already waited.

Grabbing his necklace, he lightly kissed it before stuffing it back underneath his armour. "SET SAIL!" Calling out to the crew, the men on the port loosened the ropes holding the ship in place, letting it sail out onto the open waters.

The ship slowly moved, and watching the shore get smaller, he felt the wind in his hair, blowing a salty breeze. Taking a deep breath, he admired the amarda that had been painstakingly put together.