There was a strange heaviness in the air, one that none of them could quite na.
For all the campaigns these n had fought, the question was usually how to bring the enemy to battle or how to force him into one on their own terms.
Now, for the first ti, they found themselves on the other side of the equation, facing the prospect of walking straight into whatever plan the enemy had laid for them.
"I doubt I’m the only one who thinks the Oizenian sent this letter because he is confident of victory," Lord Xanthios said, the plates of his armor clinking as he reached to take the parchnt from Jarza’s hands for another look. He scanned it briefly before continuing, his voice carrying over the table. "If we march, we surrender the choice of battlefield. We fight where he wants, not where we are strongest. Must we truly oblige him?"
He let his gaze sweep across the gathered n, as though daring soone to deny the sense in his words.
"We are currently standing on ground of our own choosing, open plains, perfect for our cavalry and for our freedom of maneuver. Our supply lines from the sea are secure. We hold the enemy’s mines, and with them, one of his greatest sources of wealth and arms. As far as I can see, if we wait, our odds of success will only grow. I don’t really see any reason to risk any of it"
A murmur of agreent rippled through the room, the heads of more than one captain nodding slowly.
"They couldn’t have made the bait more obvious," Jarza added, folding his arms across his chest. "I say we ignore the letter. We stay where we are, well-fed, well-positioned, and with ti on our side. Let them co to us, if they dare. " He said, turning toward Alpheo.
For all of Alpheo’s haughtiness, he did not dismiss the argunt outright.
"What you say is not without rit," he began "Our imdiate objectives have been achieved, and accepting battle would indeed an fighting on ground chosen by the enemy."
The lords who favored holding position exchanged small, satisfied glances—though they also knew that if their prince was not agreeing, then there was a reason they had not yet considered.
"Unfortunately," Alpheo continued, letting his voice drop slightly, "ti is not the ally you imagine it to be."
That drew a few frowns. He let the mont stretch before speaking again.
"The longer we wait, the more the advantage tilts toward Oizen. You all rember the foreign support Lechlian enjoyed in our last campaign?"
"You truly an that?" Shahab asked, leaning forward, already guessing where Alpheo was heading.
"Yes," Alpheo said without hesitation. "It is more than reasonable to assu that the sa hands now feed Sorza’s coffers , also his army is not yet at full strength. Oizen is larger than Yarzat. It would take more than a month to muster a full levy from all his lords.
Every day we delay is a day he grows stronger."
"And how do you know this?"
Alpheo’s smile widened, thin and satisfied. "Because I have spent the last three years planting informants wherever I wished. My sources tell several of his lords have yet to answer his summons. At present, Sorza commands no more than three thousand five hundred n along with three hundreds riders.Gods know how much it will swell if we give him ti."
A ripple of thought passed through the room, several n wincing as they calculated what that ant if they waited .
"Then why doesn’t he play for ti?" Egil asked, scratching his head, as the letter wouldn’t have made sense.
"Perhaps," Alpheo said, leaning back in his chair, "the fall of Malshut was wound enough to his pride that he could not wait. The mine’s loss is too sharp a blow to bear."
Of course, the truth was different. When Sorza had ordered his march, he had believed the enemy still scrambling to secure a foothold in the region, and thought he had a chance to deliver Alpheo a bloody nose or even annihilate his army before they could fortify.
Alpheo did not know this. In his mind, the Oizenian prince was simply too desperate to reclaim his mine to care how prepared his army truly was.
"Well, this letter tells soone is certain of his victory," Jarza said, brows furrowed. "I wonder what gave him that confidence... He barely has more n than we do."
In truth, Alpheo’s host outnumbered the Oizenians by a hundred, but the fall of three cities and a castle ant he had been forced to scatter his strength. Four hundred n were left behind as garrisons.
Fortunately, he had gathered unexpected reinforcents on the road, Marcus’s forces. Though he had failed to take the castle he besieged, he had made its defense untenable for the enemy, effectively allowing Alpheo to easily conquer the castle.
Of course had to reward the slaves that made it possible.
As such, they were promised silver and freedom in exchange for garrison duty, and many had accepted, easing the weight put on the main army by quite a lot.
Still, the numbers were closer than Alpheo liked. And he knew exactly why Sorza thought the balance was in his favor, his dear hidden friends had seen to that very well.
Turning toward Asag, he asked, "Do you rember, seven years ago, when I had you hold the Oizenian cavalry outside Aracina?"
"How could I forget?" Asag replied with a brief grin rembering the way the Oizenian cavalry found a wall against them, failing to break through even after two charges. "That was our first proper battle."
"Well, apparently the man who led their cavalry that day has not forgotten either. In fact, he was so taken with our tactics that he has copied them, refitting his infantry to fight in that sa style."
A murmur of concern passed through the tent. They all rembered how those long lances had won the day at Aracina.
"That formation’s ant for breaking cavalry," Egil pointed out, leaning forward with a doubtful look, not really buying the worry the others had. "If that fool hurled himself straight at it, then yes, it’s dangerous, but if we refuse a head-on charge and instead skewer them with arrows and javelins, what’s the trouble?My n will make at paste of the enemy, ten tis out of ten."
Alpheo shook his head. "It’s not only useful against cavalry. Picture advancing while five spears , each no shorter than four ters, are thrusting at you before you can even bring your blade to bear. Step too close and you’re skewered before you swing. The killing ground it creates is... unpleasant."
Asag crossed his arms. "If it’s so formidable, why haven’t we adopted it?"
"Because," Alpheo replied, "its strength cos with burdens. Against a disciplined push it is excellent, but give it the wrong conditions and it collapses. It is a hamr that cannot swing unless the handle is perfect... and I prefer weapons that work even when the grip slips. That is why I was against outfitting the White Army in such a manner."
"What conditions?" Asag pressed.
As the man who had once stood inside that very formation, he knew firsthand its devastating power. He still rembered the thrill of bringing down the great iron tide of Oizenian knights, the intoxicating mont when re footn toppled the high and noble riders in their shining armor, winning the day.....
"There are many," Alpheo said, leaning forward. "Think of it as a lion made of paper: at first glance, fearso... yet a single gust can send it fluttering away. In a frontal clash, a pike block is nearly unbreakable, its unity like a hedgehog’s spines turned outward.
I considered that weapon to be a one-trick pony, to be used only once; as far as I care, its use ended in that battle.
The unity that makes its strength is also its lifeblood, break it, and you have a corpse. A few dozen n hitting the flanks will do the trick. Once the fighting closes, those long spears are as useless as a priest in a brothel."
"That’s all?" Jarza asked skeptically. "Being flanked is every army’s weakness. There are countless ways to guard against it. What I don’t understand is why you sit there so calm, when I see nothing but folly in throwing away every advantage we hold as invaders, just to march into a field the enemy has chosen for us."
Alpheo’s smile deepened. "Co now, Jarza,you’ve known long. Do I strike you as the sort of man who surrenders control on a whim?"
Jarza said nothing but gave a reluctant shake of the head, that was the last thing Alpheo would do.
"Exactly. I was the one who forged the weapon the Oizenians now brandish against us. And as its creator, I know better than anyone how to break it. A copy is never the equal of the original... and fortunately for you, I am as original as it co."
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