Chapter 550: Keeping Count
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Chapter 550: Keeping Count
Keeping Count
After three days of travel, they reached the camp. Seeing the walls at the end of the road, Martel felt a sense of homecoming, stronger than he would have expected, only marred by the discomfort of his body being stiff and sore over.
They reached the river, crossed the bridge, and rode through Esmouth until they arrived at the stables, and he could mercifully dismount. They remove their belongings from the saddle bags and left the animals in the care of stable hands.
"Are you coming?" Eleanor asked, taking a step in the direction of the camp.
"I was thinking I'd stop by Henry's, since we are here anyway. And I need to go by my workshop. Want to come?"
"I have a few things to sort out myself," she replied. "Come find me when you are ready. We can talk to Sir Lara together."
"Alright. See you later."
***
"Martel! Back in time with one day to spare, I see." Henry stepped back from the door, allowing Martel entry to his home.
"How do you mean, one day to spare?" Martel asked as he walked inside.
The stonemage rummaged through a cupboard, pulling out cups and a pitcher. "Tomorrow is solstice. The legate's celebration. Why do you think you were recalled?"
"I had no idea. They didn't tell us. I guess the celebration is the most benign reason. It's really tomorrow?"
Henry nodded. "It is. The legate hosts the celebration every year, inviting all the prefects. And yours truly. Just like the saint's feast." He sat down, taking one of the cups. "Go ahead, take a seat."
"I'm fine standing, thank you." He took the other top, pouring himself some wine. "Never imagined I'd actually miss this town."This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com
"I've been a few times to an outpost like that before. It's pretty much the worst posting you can have, or certainly, the most boring."
"I would have settled for boring, honestly."
Reaching their destination, they waited briefly until receiving admittance. "Sir Fontaine, Sir Martel, do you have something to report?" Sir Lara looked at them expectantly.
"We have been carrying out daily patrols around the outpost as ordered," Eleanor began to say; Martel was content with her taking the lead. She had a better understanding of this military business. "Out of about forty patrols, we fought seventeen skirmishes. We sustained thirty-one losses among our legionaries, and another fifteen heavily wounded."
"What about casualties incurred on the enemy?"
Eleanor blinked, looking caught off-guard. "We made no such count."
"Your best guess?"
She glanced at Martel. "Seventy to eighty?"
"Something like that. They got better at the end, keeping distance and retreating whenever we went on the offensive," he said.
"My point is, Sir Lara, these losses do not seem sustainable for a cohort. Especially as nothing seems gained. The Khivans only maintain such a heavy presence because I and my charge are present. If Sir Martel and I were withdrawn, the outpost would not come under such attack."
"Or perhaps your absence would embolden them to show up in force," the legion prefect retorted with a stern voice. "Besides, your concerns are unfounded. The cohort manning the outposts will be regularly rotated, and once summer ends, Khivan activity will be reduced in the area anyway. Your orders remain the same, Sir Fontaine. You will have tomorrow to celebrate the solstice. The day after, you are to return to the outpost and resume your patrols exactly as before. I understood?"
"Yes, prefect."
"Yes, prefect."
"Dismissed."
They made it fifteen paces before Eleanor could no longer contain herself. "They must realise this is bound to go wrong! Why would they risk us in this manner? Do they not understand our worth?"
"It doesn't look that way." In contrast with Eleanor's indignation, Martel felt resigned.
"Well, tomorrow we are seeing the legate. Perhaps I can talk sense into him."
"We can try."
As they returned to their tents, they each found an invitation to the solstice celebration waiting for them.
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Chapter 550: Keeping Count
Keeping Count
After three days of travel, they reached the camp. Seeing the walls at the end of the road, Martel felt a sense of homecoming, stronger than he would have expected, only marred by the discomfort of his body being stiff and sore over.
They reached the river, crossed the bridge, and rode through Esmouth until they arrived at the stables, and he could mercifully dismount. They remove their belongings from the saddle bags and left the animals in the care of stable hands.
"Are you coming?" Eleanor asked, taking a step in the direction of the camp.
"I was thinking I'd stop by Henry's, since we are here anyway. And I need to go by my workshop. Want to come?"
"I have a few things to sort out myself," she replied. "Come find me when you are ready. We can talk to Sir Lara together."
"Alright. See you later."
***
"Martel! Back in time with one day to spare, I see." Henry stepped back from the door, allowing Martel entry to his home.
"How do you mean, one day to spare?" Martel asked as he walked inside.
The stonemage rummaged through a cupboard, pulling out cups and a pitcher. "Tomorrow is solstice. The legate's celebration. Why do you think you were recalled?"
"I had no idea. They didn't tell us. I guess the celebration is the most benign reason. It's really tomorrow?"
Henry nodded. "It is. The legate hosts the celebration every year, inviting all the prefects. And yours truly. Just like the saint's feast." He sat down, taking one of the cups. "Go ahead, take a seat."
"I'm fine standing, thank you." He took the other top, pouring himself some wine. "Never imagined I'd actually miss this town."This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com
"I've been a few times to an outpost like that before. It's pretty much the worst posting you can have, or certainly, the most boring."
"I would have settled for boring, honestly."
Reaching their destination, they waited briefly until receiving admittance. "Sir Fontaine, Sir Martel, do you have something to report?" Sir Lara looked at them expectantly.
"We have been carrying out daily patrols around the outpost as ordered," Eleanor began to say; Martel was content with her taking the lead. She had a better understanding of this military business. "Out of about forty patrols, we fought seventeen skirmishes. We sustained thirty-one losses among our legionaries, and another fifteen heavily wounded."
"What about casualties incurred on the enemy?"
Eleanor blinked, looking caught off-guard. "We made no such count."
"Your best guess?"
She glanced at Martel. "Seventy to eighty?"
"Something like that. They got better at the end, keeping distance and retreating whenever we went on the offensive," he said.
"My point is, Sir Lara, these losses do not seem sustainable for a cohort. Especially as nothing seems gained. The Khivans only maintain such a heavy presence because I and my charge are present. If Sir Martel and I were withdrawn, the outpost would not come under such attack."
"Or perhaps your absence would embolden them to show up in force," the legion prefect retorted with a stern voice. "Besides, your concerns are unfounded. The cohort manning the outposts will be regularly rotated, and once summer ends, Khivan activity will be reduced in the area anyway. Your orders remain the same, Sir Fontaine. You will have tomorrow to celebrate the solstice. The day after, you are to return to the outpost and resume your patrols exactly as before. I understood?"
"Yes, prefect."
"Yes, prefect."
"Dismissed."
They made it fifteen paces before Eleanor could no longer contain herself. "They must realise this is bound to go wrong! Why would they risk us in this manner? Do they not understand our worth?"
"It doesn't look that way." In contrast with Eleanor's indignation, Martel felt resigned.
"Well, tomorrow we are seeing the legate. Perhaps I can talk sense into him."
"We can try."
As they returned to their tents, they each found an invitation to the solstice celebration waiting for them.
Chapter 550: Keeping CountKeeping CountAfter three days of travel, they reached the camp. Seeing the walls at the end of the road, Martel felt a sense of homecoming, stronger than he would have expected, only marred by the discomfort of his body being stiff and sore over.They reached the river, crossed the bridge, and rode through Esmouth until they arrived at the stables, and he could mercifully dismount. They remove their belongings from the saddle bags and left the animals in the care of stable hands."Are you coming?" Eleanor asked, taking a step in the direction of the camp."I was thinking I'd stop by Henry's, since we are here anyway. And I need to go by my workshop. Want to come?""I have a few things to sort out myself," she replied. "Come find me when you are ready. We can talk to Sir Lara together.""Alright. See you later."***"Martel! Back in time with one day to spare, I see." Henry stepped back from the door, allowing Martel entry to his home."How do you mean, one day to spare?" Martel asked as he walked inside.The stonemage rummaged through a cupboard, pulling out cups and a pitcher. "Tomorrow is solstice. The legate's celebration. Why do you think you were recalled?""I had no idea. They didn't tell us. I guess the celebration is the most benign reason. It's really tomorrow?"Henry nodded. "It is. The legate hosts the celebration every year, inviting all the prefects. And yours truly. Just like the saint's feast." He sat down, taking one of the cups. "Go ahead, take a seat.""I'm fine standing, thank you." He took the other top, pouring himself some wine. "Never imagined I'd actually miss this town."This chapter is updated by novelbiin.com"I've been a few times to an outpost like that before. It's pretty much the worst posting you can have, or certainly, the most boring.""I would have settled for boring, honestly."Reaching their destination, they waited briefly until receiving admittance. "Sir Fontaine, Sir Martel, do you have something to report?" Sir Lara looked at them expectantly."We have been carrying out daily patrols around the outpost as ordered," Eleanor began to say; Martel was content with her taking the lead. She had a better understanding of this military business. "Out of about forty patrols, we fought seventeen skirmishes. We sustained thirty-one losses among our legionaries, and another fifteen heavily wounded.""What about casualties incurred on the enemy?"Eleanor blinked, looking caught off-guard. "We made no such count.""Your best guess?"She glanced at Martel. "Seventy to eighty?""Something like that. They got better at the end, keeping distance and retreating whenever we went on the offensive," he said."My point is, Sir Lara, these losses do not seem sustainable for a cohort. Especially as nothing seems gained. The Khivans only maintain such a heavy presence because I and my charge are present. If Sir Martel and I were withdrawn, the outpost would not come under such attack.""Or perhaps your absence would embolden them to show up in force," the legion prefect retorted with a stern voice. "Besides, your concerns are unfounded. The cohort manning the outposts will be regularly rotated, and once summer ends, Khivan activity will be reduced in the area anyway. Your orders remain the same, Sir Fontaine. You will have tomorrow to celebrate the solstice. The day after, you are to return to the outpost and resume your patrols exactly as before. I understood?""Yes, prefect.""Yes, prefect.""Dismissed."They made it fifteen paces before Eleanor could no longer contain herself. "They must realise this is bound to go wrong! Why would they risk us in this manner? Do they not understand our worth?""It doesn't look that way." In contrast with Eleanor's indignation, Martel felt resigned."Well, tomorrow we are seeing the legate. Perhaps I can talk sense into him.""We can try."As they returned to their tents, they each found an invitation to the solstice celebration waiting for them.
