Airka woke and looked over to see the first of day’s light shining out under the line of the tent’s walls.  She pushed off the layers of blankets she’d spent the night huddled under, wished they’d had wood for a fire but the planes west of Verken were not known for their foliage.  The air within her regiment’s command tent was crisp, more so now that they were camp near the river.  Overall, it was a downside of having the tent to herself, and she hurried in dressing, pulling her still damp cloak on once she was done.

Dressed, she lifted the lid off the tent’s one small brazier, rekindled the embers before adding a choice stub of charcoal and putting the kettle on to boil.  Done, Airka stepped outside her eyes protesting even the minor light of the early morning.  The others had left last night, Wignot staying longer to go over the remaining logistics of her unit, her concern was less the battle than having enough food to send the survivors home with once this was done.  Not necessarily because she had faith they’d survive but she had to hope for something.

That account, that this was one way or another likely to be the last battle of this war, had filled Airka’s thoughts as she’d foregone the sleep she’d required of the others and prepared for their march.  The march had been a relief but the thoughts had returned after they’d finished their few hours of movement and the officers called for a camp to be made.  By all accounts they’d be in position tomorrow, and then it’d be a waiting game for the Silver Kingdom’s armies to arrive.  She’d have to ask Wignot about what supplies they had for making defensive positions, and then again get words from the scouts if there would be enough time.

The camp was quiet and Airka enjoyed a moment to see the sky lighten as dawn approached.  She had turned to return to the tent, the kettle’s whistle drawing her when another sound stopped her.  It was a growing commotion. a few shouts, nothing that should’ve been unheard of in a camp of worn out soldiers but it didn’t die in the fast of calls for quiet.  No, it grew louder and spread.  The commotion all ran together but Airka eventually caught the words that seemed to be the crux of the growing panic:

“Officers,” and “Gone.”

—————————————————

Wignot arrived first, Kara slipping soon afterwards as the former relayed what he had found to Airka.

“Captain Antel’s aid had come in to start making his meal when he found the tent empty.  Way the aid tells it he thought the Captain might’ve been conversing with one of the other officers so he checked on them.  When he found another one empty he gathered the other aids and they found that all four the officers were gone.”

All four officers, Airka mulled over.  Normally there would’ve been three or four times that in a force this large.  It had never made sense to Airka that they had elevated people to fill the missing positions as the war took it’s toll but not granted those people the title the position required.  That was the powerful for you.

“Looks like we found where they went,” Kara picked up as Wignot finished.  Airka turned to face the younger soldier, waiting for the other woman to start talking.  “None of the horses are missing but we had a couple of boats, things supply carries around just in case.  They took them and likely let the river carry them downstream.”

“That’ll take them to the coast,” Wignot begun.

“They’ll get out early, on the northern bank…make for Migin or somewhere else,” Airka cut in.  Malcolm and Anders had entered, the two with their variation of “harried” on their faces.  Airka gave them a nod and then looked back to Wignot.  “Who’s taking charge.”

Wignot’s mouth opened but he seemed stuck.  Airka looked to Kara, she avoided her superior’s gaze.  Anders and Malcolm were still looking between everyone.

“Wignot,” Airka started, a sinking feeling in her gut.  She was of a half-dozen of sergeants who had been elevated.  Surely…

“Glout is considered most senior, his officer died before Lieutenant Tawl.”  Tawl had been their officer.  “He’s got less time with the army though…”

“He’s also packing up with all his kinsmen to head back south,” Kara interjected.

“What?” the exclamation escaped Airka and pulled her out of her growing dread.  “Where does he think he’s going?”  Airka had turned, foregoing her cloak and grabbing only her spear as she ducked out of the tent.  The light blinded her for a moment and she paused blinking.  Trying to remember where Glout kept his camp.

“Airka,” Wignot called after.

“Sergeant where are you going?”  Anders added.

Airka’s eyes cleared and she saw that much of the army was breaking camp, as they should be getting ready for a march, but there was a lack of order to it.  This wasn’t breaking camp, it was breaking apart.

“It’s over Sergeant, not even the Captain is willing to fight for the diplomats…”

Airka spun, her spear she kept off to her side, but with her free hand she grabbed Anders shirt and yanked him forward to end his words.  “You will go and get the other Sergeants together for a meeting.  Malcolm you go with him.”

“Airka this is nuts,” Anders tried to start again.

“Go!” she boomed into his face, the man jumping back and running off a dozen steps before he thought to look back to make sure Malcolm was following.

“Kara, you go and drag Glout to that meeting if you have.”  Kara seemed dazed by all this but had the sense to run off without protest.  That left Wignot, he was looking at her with…something in his eyes, his brow furrowed.

“You want to say something?”

“I get to protest?” Wignot joked without a hint of mirth in his voice.

“You get a moment for having been here with me,” Airka offered.

“I hate the Silvers, I hate their self-importance, their talk that it’s part of the grand story that they should unite us.  Like we should all just fall into line, and forget our own stories because their are so much better.  Most of all, I hate that they are so much better.  That they aren’t fractured, that they’re organized and planned and that they ultimately beat us.”

Airka opened her mouth but Wignot held her off with a raised hand.

“I know things aren’t done yet but you and I know well enough that however this last battle goes, those diplomats Anders is so fond of aren’t going to come back and say they’ve decided to keep fighting.  They’ve had enough of a beating and they didn’t even have to be out here being beaten.”

“You think we’ve suffered enough then?  That a final fight is pointless.”

“Is it not?” the tone of his voice stopped Airka and she looked at him.  He was tired like all of them, he was hungry like all of them, but there was another hunger there.

“Go to the remaining aides, I want the officer tent made ready for all of us.” Wignot simply nodded and turned to head off.  “Wig,” he turned back around at her voice, “it’s not over yet, you’ll see why..I promise.”