《Rothester》Chapter 19: Death March South
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Trey and the rest of Team Five and Six wait anxiously outside the castle near the gate in the dark. Three wagons, each pulled by a pair of horses, will be their escape vehicle. After listening to the chaos that unfolded through the radio, all the men are on edge and have everything prepared for a quick escape.
In the distance, a few Venesian soldiers scramble in random directions. Others seem to be standing around and waiting or searching. Clearly, the enemy has learned that Trey and his people are there but doesn’t know where exactly.
Occasionally, gunshots from muskets are just barely audible from within the castle, but they are few in number. It can only be hoped that each threat is dispatched quickly. The more Trey waits, the more worried he gets. The other teams are taking too long, and a few more soldiers are beginning to arrive due to guards running out to notify them that the enemy is in the castle.
“Teams Five and Six! We’re coming out the front door and making our way to you! Go loud! Clear out the area for our arrival!”
The eight operators briefly look at each other in slight hesitation before dispersing. The eight of them spread out to take cover around the gate and behind the wagons. They all aim at the unaware soldiers around the castle and begin to take shots. Accurate semi-automatic fire takes down several soldiers, one after the other. Pops resound sporadically in the night, and the Venesian soldiers are slow to notice that each pop means death.
The Venesian soldiers duck down and search for cover as the operators continue to fire. Full panic consumes the Venesians as they try to see where the fire is coming from but can’t find the operators. It is too dark, and no muzzle flashes are spotted. For the Entesian operators, they can see clearly through their night-vision goggles. Taking cover is almost unnecessary, considering how easily they are taking down the Venesians in the distance.
Some soldiers try to shoot back in the general direction where the suppressed gunshots are heard, but they are wildly inaccurate. They are shooting blind, but the loud crack of muskets alerts the nearby area that a gun battle is in place.
Within seconds, the front entrance to the castle is cleared of enemies, but more soldiers are beginning to arrive. Suddenly, the front door ferociously flies open, and a large group of people emerges. In addition to the Grand Duke and his wife, Teams One through Four have finally made it out of the castle and are making a direct run for Teams Four and Five.
Trey can see that one of the operators is carrying someone in a fireman’s carry.
“Coachmen! Get on the wagons!” someone says as three operators stop firing their weapons and run towards the wagons.
Three operators, who are the designated coachman, climb onto their individual wagons and grab hold of the reins, and they wait. The rest of the operators remain firing to provide cover for the incoming group.
Musket men pour out of the front door and into a hail of bullets fired from the operators. They quickly lift their muskets and fire in panic before they are cut down. Lead balls sporadically impact near the operators; one of them has a close call as a lead ball impacts a stone pillar next to his head.
The Venesian soldiers who are already outside, in cover, and confused, notice this encounter and can recognize who their enemies are. The strange group running away from the castle can be no one else but the intruders themselves, and there is another group hidden in darkness that they are running towards—wagons in the distance that they haven’t noticed before. With the enemy located, the Venesians can more effectively fight back and aim with their muskets to take shots.
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Trey reloads his rifle as the escaping group arrives. Musket fire intensifies and is more accurate before the musket men have to reload. Major Barnett arrives carrying the Grand Duke in a fireman carry. With the weak and frail body that the Grand Duke was reduced to, he can’t keep up with the operators, and the Major has to carry him to the wagon.
Barnett lets him down onto the wagon as other operators also climb on. Elceran looks on at the operators, who continue to shoot towards the Venesians. He can’t see clearly, but he can tell that the operators somehow can. Whatever sort of goggles they wear on their faces must be the reason why they are so precise in their shooting. Elceran also can’t help but look at the weapons the operators use. It seems to be a sort of ranged weapon related to the Venesian musket but is evidently superior. Elceran is in awe of the devastating damage this small group of warriors can do and wonders what else they have in their arsenals. He hasn’t yet even learned of who his rescuers are. All he knows is the names that he hears them refer to each other as. As the gunfight briefly hypnotizes him, Eilra soon arrives and climbs onto the same wagon and embraces her husband in relief.
“My dear Elceran! Are you safe?”
“I am unharmed, do not worry, my dear. But we must not celebrate too early.”
Unexpectedly, a yellow ball of flames flies over the wagons at an incredible speed and impacts the residential buildings behind them. It burst into a bright fireball that destroys the face of the building. The blast produces a powerful pressure wave as fragments of stone and wood accelerate in every direction.
All the operators immediately duck down as a result of the explosion, and gunfire momentarily stops.
“What the fuck was that?!” yells one of the operators.
“Mage! Hundred fifty meters left side!”
“Get to the wagons! We’re getting out of here!”
The remaining operators get out of cover and onto the wagons, briefly glancing at where the magic attack hit. A chunk of the building has collapsed, and the area is burnt. The mage’s capabilities are unknown, but everyone is thankful that they missed the wagons, or else quite a few of them might have died from the explosion.
“Go! Go!” Major Barnett yells at the coachmen, who immediately crack their driving whips above the horses to signal them to advance.
Major Barnett takes potshots at the mage in the distance and hopes to delay another magic attack. The mage summons some sort of transparent shield as bullets strike and shatter on the shield. The wagons start moving, and operators continue to shoot on the move. Major Barnett turns around to run behind the wagons before jumping onto one of them.
Lead balls continue to fly past them as the Venesian soldiers continue to fire their muskets. At this point, that part of the city is well aware that something is going on but no idea what. Residents remain in fear and dare not investigate and just hope the conflict would go away.
“Major,” the Grand Duke says, “is this how we will make our grand escape? I am not very sure about this.”
“My apologies, your grace, but there is no other way.”
As the wagons make their way down the road, two soldiers on horses suddenly appear behind them as they pursue the wagons. The operators immediately unleash a barrage of gunfire that strikes their tailing enemies. One of the horses the soldier rode on is hit by bullets and trips forward, sending the Venesian soldier into the air and onto the ground. Bullets also strike the other Venesian, but he simply falls off of his horse.
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The three wagons are able to escape the area around the castle, and the gunshots cease. No more pursuers come. Everyone takes a breath of relief as they are finally able to relax and collect themselves. The small convoy heads towards the city’s southern gate instead of the north, west, or eastern side as those areas would likely have more security.
In one wagon, Trey looks around at the other operators and notice something troublesome. While adrenaline rushed through his body during the firefight, he didn’t see that other operators were hit by musket fire. One of the operators in his wagon is being attended by one of the Air Force PJs who is bandaging his shoulder. The operator was unfortunate enough for a lead ball to just barely miss his body armor and strike him in the shoulder. A lot of blood stains the area around the wound, but the PJ can’t properly patch him up as the wagon moves too violently.
Plenty of operators have bullet holes in their clothing but are mostly unhurt as the lead balls could never penetrate through the armor. Another operator next to Trey, named Brett, has blood on one side of his face but seems unfazed.
“Yo, Brett, you’re bleeding.”
“It’s fine. Just shrapnel cuts, nothing too bad.”
A dozen long minutes later, the wagons speed through the city undisturbed and face no resistance. The streets are quiet and are starting to light up ever so slightly. The sky has lightened as the morning hours progress.
“Be advised everyone,” someone says through the radio, “we’re approaching the city gates. There’s no actual gate since it was destroyed during the siege, but we’ll face guards who won’t be happy to see us. We’re going to blow right past. Get ready; they might shoot.”
The operators ready their weapons once more. The guards in the distance are half asleep and have no idea of what happened. Leaning against the wall, one of them can faintly hear the galloping of the horses and looks up to barely see three wagons.
“Hey, look, someone’s coming,” one guard says to the other.
They stand up straight and grip their weapons. The wagons don’t slow, and so they lift their weapons as a threat. Immediately after raising their weapons, a wave of bullets strikes everywhere and takes them down.
The three wagons pass through unhindered and leave the city limits. Endless forests replace their surroundings of a once beautiful mix of nature and civilization as the wagons travel along a small road.
.
.
Approximately an hour later and the group has traveled for a few miles into the wilderness. Few people ever travel in the direction they traveled in, and so the roads become increasingly treacherous and small. The wagons are no longer able to traverse through the thick forests. In one forest clearing, the group decides to stop and rest as they determine that they traveled far enough to lose any potential pursuers.
There is a tint of orange in the sky as it is nearing sunrise. Night-vision goggles are no longer necessary, so most operators lift them up but leave them on their helmets. Instead, they rely on flashlights to look around; it also helps the Grand Duke and Duchess see until the sun rises over the horizon.
The wagons are unhitched, and the horses are relieved of their harnesses and let go. They are no longer useful and are decided to be left behind. More concerningly, the group also stops to check on the injured.
Many operators take off their gear and equipment to expose the various wounds they received. The Air Force PJs go around to everyone to check and treat them all as they have some of the most extensive training in medicine that the military has to offer.
Grand Duke Elceran and Duchess Eilra sit on a boulder nearby, observing the operators while eating food that was given to them. It is strange food that came in a bag that seems to have magically heated itself, but the Major told him that no magic is involved. Regardless, he enjoys the food and is eternally grateful. After being deprived of any nourishment in captivity, he would enjoy just about any meal he can get his hands on.
As the two of them ate together, Elceran can’t help but notice the PJs work. While most of his saviors look relatively fine, one of them is lying on the ground with his abdomen exposed. He has been shot near his left lumbar from the sides. Elceran can’t tell what the operators are doing but assumes that they know what they are doing. He still thinks it very strange for a soldier to be a healer.
Major Barnett notices the Grand Duke stare at his people and approaches him.
“Enjoying the food?” he asks.
“Oh yes. It’s splendid. Much better than I has initially thought.”
“Courtesy of the military. Eat well. We’ll need all the energy we can get.”
“Excuse me… Major.”
“You can call me Barnett.”
“Mister Barnett. Will that soldier there be all right?”
Barnett turns to look at the injured operator who was shot. The PJs conducted surgery to remove the bullet and its fragments and are currently closing the wound with stitches. This sort of injury was expected, and the PJs brought along the necessary equipment in the rucksacks they carry. Luckily, the injury isn’t fatal, and the operator will live long enough to be treated in a proper hospital once they all escaped.
“Yeah, he’ll be all right. They just got the bullet out and are patching him up, no worries.”
“I never imagined healers would ever consider being a soldier. They are usually so prideful,” Duchess Eilra says.
“Well, it’s part of the job. None of them were healers before becoming a soldier. They are trained as such.”
“You military teaches soldiers to be healers?” Eilra says in a slightly shocked manner.
“Not everyone but a good number of them. Those guys there are among the best medics there are.”
“Mister Barnett. I suppose this is as good a time as ever to ask. I’ve yet to know who you and your men are or why you chose to save me. You people are unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. Your attire is very unorthodox, and your weapons look very strange but oddly seem to be similar to that of those imperials,” Elceran says.
Barnett thinks of how to respond. He is authorized to reveal classified information to the Grand Duke so long as he deems it necessary. Considering that they pretty much made their presence known in such a spectacular fashion, President Wilson thought it acceptable if the Grand Duke is given an explanation.
“I hope you do not leave me in the dark, Mister Barnett. After going so far as to save me, you clearly see value in me. Please, enlighten us.”
“Your grace, what do you know of Venesia’s misfortunes in the war?”
“Misfortunes? Do you refer to their army’s constant setbacks and failures? I’m afraid I know not much. They asked me many questions I had no answer to. Sabotage and assassinations are what they accused me of. I don’t suppose you people have anything to do about any of that? You certainly seem capable of carrying out such actions.”
“You would be correct for that assumption. Allow me to introduce ourselves, your grace. I am Major Barnett with the Entesian Army. The Federal Republic of Entesia, that is.”
Both Elceran and Eilra turn to look at Barnett with confused expressions.
Did we hear him correctly?
While Elceran has been guessing whom they are associated with, Entesia is a nation that has escaped his list of possibilities. Much like everyone else, he views Entesians as isolated people who keep to themselves.
When the Venesian invasion started, everyone was dumbfounded to learn that Entesia decided to send humanitarian aid. They gained nothing, and no one asked them to get involved, but basic supplies were sent nonetheless. In addition to Entesian sail ships that carried cargo for regular trade with other countries, ships with large amounts of food, clothing, and strange medicine began arriving in northern port cities with instructions to transport them to the south.
When questioned by foreign heads of state, Entesian ambassadors only answered that they were helping out of kindness and requested nothing in return.
“Entesia… The famed Northern Republic of Renera?”
“That’s right. Why’d you phrase it like that?”
“You don’t know? Entesian products are highly valued and sought after. I’ve had wine bottles from a certain ‘Northern Republic’. I believe it’s an Entesian company, is it not?”
“Yes, it is. Northern Republic specializes in luxury goods of every kind. It’s mostly fashion, but they also make alcoholic beverages.”
“Northern Republic has become rather famous,” Eilra says. “Families of nobility and royalty have all come to know the name. If any event is held, imported Northern Republic alcohol is always brought to the event. Even some of their more… strange beverages are also popular. Their fashion also makes appearances in upper society—men’s wear in particular. Northern Republic ‘suits’ and their style are increasingly becoming widespread though plenty prefers more traditional styles. And they use some of the highest quality fabrics I’ve ever seen, and they are not terribly expensive either. At some point, it became a nickname for your country. Many people have come to refer to your country as the Northern Republic—a name synonymous with luxury, excellence, quality, and… mystery and enigma.”
This is the first time Barnett has come to learn what other people think of his country. In a way, it is humorous that his country is referred to with the name of a fashion company as some sort of eponym. But the ‘mystery’ aspect intrigues him.
“Why mystery and enigma?”
“‘Northern Republic’ carries another meaning. Other than the obvious meaning that your country is a republic in the north, one of the most puzzling things is if it’s really a republic as it has claimed for so long.”
“Of course it is. We have elected government officials and a president as a leader. No nobility, no royalty. Why is that puzzling?”
“Anything that isn’t like a kingdom is not viewed in good light,” Eilra says in a low voice.
“Haven’t there been republics in Weslec?”
“Yes, there has, but they functioned very differently than what a republic is supposed to be. Nobility or royalty never goes away because they have too much power that they aren’t willing to give up, so republics are always extremely unstable. They almost always revert to a kingdom or something with a similar structure. Few maintained order and stability as corruption runs rampant regardless. Naritlume, our northern neighbor, became a republic a few years ago, but they nearly fell into civil war before the Venesians came. Other than Naritlume and Entesia, there are no other known republics in the three continents. The fact that your country has not only survived for so long but also thrives, if your exports are anything to go by, makes Entesia an oddity.”
“So, in a way, the name refers to the perceived inevitable failures of past republics?”
“Yes. No one truly believes that a nation can function if political power is given to peasants. It’s simply not how the gods intended,” Eilra says while trying not to sound condescending.
“All right, I think I get it. Our country is doing just fine without nobility. Anyways, we should move on from that topic.”
“We mean no disrespect. I hope you understand,” Elceran adds. “So, Major Barnett. What does the Entesian Army want with me?”
“Not the Entesian Army, your grace, the Entesian government. I think it would best if they tell you themselves. Our only job here is to get you out of the country. But, you should finish your food quickly. We’ll need to get going soon.”
Elceran looks down at the light brown bag with food as Barnett leaves to check on the rest of the group. He has many questions to ask Barnett. A million thoughts run through his mind, but he still can’t make sense of much. Barnett and his people are Entesians. He doesn’t know why the Entesian government would be interested in him or why they care to save an overthrown Grand Duke. More importantly, the sabotages and assassinations that pushed back the Venesians were the doings of Entesia the entire time, with no one being the wiser.
Just what exactly is going on?
.
.
Hours past sunrise, where the sun barely penetrates through the canopy of the trees, twenty-six people are walking in a uniform line. Through the dense forest, the Entesian operators navigate towards their extraction point. They have been walking for many hours with many breaks for the Grand Duke, Duchess, and injured, to rest before continuing.
Everyone has been chiefly silent and focused on where they take their next step. The Grand Duke has warned that the forests can contain dangerous threats of all sizes of which the operators take into consideration. Breathing heavily, the Grand Duke has long wanted more time to rest, but the Major insists that they continue. Everyone walks at a fast pace while he continues to struggle.
“Major,” he finally says, “I know you have said to have faith, but I fail to see how we will get out of here.”
“The Entesian Navy should be somewhere along the coast. They are the ones who will pick us up.”
“I find that strange. The Kingdom’s only port city is Aymlielelt, but it’s located northeast of Fethalean. Judging by the location of the sun, it doesn’t seem like we are heading towards the coast.”
“We’re not. We’re going southwest.”
The Grand Duke stops walking in confusion, to which the Major also stops.
“Southwest? There’s nothing southwest. It’s empty.”
“We know, but that’s where the Navy expects us.”
“Why in heavens would they expect us there? The nearest access to the ocean is a bay directly east of Fethalean. Why is the Navy involved at all? Should we not be going north towards Naritlume?”
“Your grace, there are several problems with those options. The biggest obstacle is the Venesians. The battlefields have shifted towards Naritlume’s borders, so going there would likely get us killed or captured. The Navy also can’t go to Aymlielelt or anywhere along the eastern coast because the Venesian Navy dominates those areas. Going north and east is impossible because of the Venetians, while the west is a massive mountain range. Our only option is south.”
“But the southern coastline is not anywhere near here. We would have to walk for over a week!”
“No, we don’t. We aren’t going to the coast itself. We only need to travel a third of the way. Our extraction point is two hundred forty kilometers southwest from Fethalean.”
“Kilometers?” Elceran asks, never before heard such a word.
“Yes. Kilometers. Do you not know what that is? How do you measure distance? Miles?”
Elceran nods. Miles is a unit he is familiar with.
“Right. That equates to a hundred and fifty miles. That’s where the Navy will pick us up. If we walk reasonably fast from sunrise to sunset, it should take us only three days. We brought enough supplies to aid us in the journey. C’mon. Let’s not waste any more time.”
The group continues to walk through the forests with haste. Barnett isn’t lying when he says that they can not go to Naritlume or the port cities. It would give them a very high chance of stumbling upon the Imperial Army if they did. Not to mention that assuming the Imperial Army wanted to search for them, they would likely think they are heading towards the border or the eastern coast. Going south is believed to be suicide as it is all remote wilderness with a harsh climate which is just fine for the operators as it means that they don’t have to worry about pursuers.
.
.
Throughout the entire day, the group has been hiking through the wilderness nearly non-stop. From sunrise when they escaped the city to a little after sunset, the group has managed to hike roughly fifty miles through the remote terrain.
Everyone’s feet are hurting, especially Elceran and Eilra’s. They have never walked for so much for so long in their lives. Their legs feel wobbly, and they can barely stand.
Around several campfires the operators set up, everyone is eating food before they go to bed. They brought dozens of MREs and other supplies for the three-day hike in the many rucksacks they carry. The moon has settled up high in the dark sky, where everyone can admire it through the irregular openings of the forest canopy. Temperatures are near freezing, much like they were during the morning raid. Only now are they shivering since adrenaline no longer pumps and bullets no longer fly.
Elceran and Eilra are given blankets to fight off the cold, and the Air Force PJs constantly check up on their health to make sure they can continue the hike. In the worst case that they can’t even stand on their own two feet, the operators would have to carry them to the extraction zone, which is a burden Elceran doesn’t want to be. He already noticed that everyone is toting a lot of equipment.
“Mister Barnett,” Eilra says while she eats, “I can’t shake the thought of the mysterious Northern Republic being involved in this war. Could you shed some light on what Entesia is like? Your people are renowned for turning away travelers and merchants who wander too close to your borders. I always wondered what they are hiding.”
“What we hide is hidden for a reason. But I suppose revealing some of it wouldn’t hurt. Well… the simplest answer is that Entesia is a very advanced and developed country compared to everyone else. Take our exports, for example. As you said, the Northern Republic is a famous luxury brand, but it isn’t the only one. It’s just the only one authorized to export high-end products.”
“What do you mean advanced and developed? Do you perhaps refer to the magic arts?”
“No. Actually, magic doesn’t have much importance in Entesia as a technology because other methods overshadow its application. When I say advanced and developed, I mostly mean industry. Engineering, mathematics, and sciences have been thoroughly explored and researched. As a result, our society has grown to be far different from every other civilization. Because of this, we like to keep to ourselves.”
“Surely it can not be too different? Even without nobility.”
“It is. We estimate the difference in technological capabilities to be centuries ahead from everyone else.”
“That’s preposterous,” Elceran says, “how can a country be so advanced while setting aside the magic arts? Even those arrogant dwarves in Kinzad admit that magic can not be dismissed.”
“Well, I can prove it to you. Take a good look at us. We successfully rescued you from captivity and escaped. I think the battle is proof enough that our weapons are superior to the Venesians.”
Elceran takes a look around the camp to inspect the operators. Barnett is right; their strange black weapons are certainly potent as he saw them in action. Not even the best knights can defeat these operators, except maybe if they stand within melee range. Only mages, perhaps, can win the battle.
“And these as well,” Barnett points at his night-vision goggles. “These are some of the most advanced items we carry—night-vision goggles. As the name implies, it allows us to see in the night. Here, take a look through them.”
Barnett turns on his night-vision goggles and hands them to a curious Elceran who takes them with doubt. When he holds them up to his eyes as Barnett instructed, his entire vision becomes green. At first, he is baffled by what he sees since he can’t understand why everything is green. It seems like they don’t work, but after some time of looking around, he understands. He can see. He continues to lift them up and down from his eyes, switching from his normal vision to the night-vision goggles to compare. The campfire is exceptionally bright and unbearable with the goggles, but when he looks towards dark patches in the forest away from the camp, the goggles allow him to see the foliage with clarity while his normal vision only sees darkness.
“Incredible…” he whispers to himself.
“This is how we were able to get into the castle with ease. We can see, while our enemies can’t.”
The conversation goes on for a while more, with Barnett explaining the technological advancements of Entesia. Neither Elceran nor Eilra can genuinely believe his words at face value and highly doubt some of his claims. Despite this, they can’t help but continue to listen to what Entesia supposedly keeps hidden.
The operators have set up tents using the canopies of their parachutes and any other materials they can get their hands on. Sleeping bags are distributed, but hardly anyone can sleep comfortably. As everyone shuts their eyes, they fall asleep, dreading the hike they still need to complete. One hundred miles. Just two more days.
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