Vance Moore - Prophecy
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Vance Moore
Prophecy
"Where in the nine hells is everyone?" Haddad muttered as the small group of men and wagons tramped through the night. "Are we lost again?" His feet disturbed a mound of stones collected at the bottom of the crumbling hillside. The land seemed dead. Successive seasons of cold and heat had shattered rock and piled scree everywhere. The road was deep and cut wide, but the rock faces sloughed debris every day and covered the road or ate at its base. It was too cold for insects, and the column of marching men cut sharp shadows in the moonlight. Within hours the sun would rise and sear everything. It was a land of no good seasons.
"Quiet, Haddad!" Natal murmured. "I'm sure the sergeant knows where he's going." Natal stamped his feet to warm them in the night air. "Anyway, the last thing he wants to hear is you."
Both men were soldiers in the Jamuraan Kipamu League of Annies. The League had been named after Lord Kipamu, a legendary figure who was credited with many important military victories on the old-time frontiers of Jamuraa. Dead for centuries, if not millennia, the lord's name still commanded respect all over the continent.
Haddad nodded and shivered as he hugged his coat more tightly. He was wearing most of the clothing he owned. Haddad tried to tuck his hands into his sleeves but flailed his arms for balance on the uncertain footing. The noise of others stumbling over rock was overpowered by the sound of the wagon wheels crunching and sliding over the broken roadway. Sergeant Atul signaled a halt, and Haddad relayed the order down the line.
The chill breeze heralding the dawn cut through the men. None of the soldiers spoke, though chattering teeth sounded. Many moved closer to the wagons, holding their hands against the warm sides of the oxen. Natal edged closer to the animals, and Haddad shifted to give his comrade room. The friends were several yards away from Sergeant Atul as he conferred with the more experienced soldiers. False dawn began to reveal details of the landscape.
"I wonder if they know where we are?" Haddad questioned again. The sergeant's ears were sharper than anyone had suspected.
"You two quiet down. Check the oxen and wagons now." Sergeant Atul spoke with no perceptible malice, but the pair instantly started inspecting the condition of the draft beasts and the wagons. Haddad and Natal split and went down opposite sides of the line, checking the cargo and the beasts. They peered uncertainly into the dim light, hoping no problems would be found.
The sergeant continued to converse with the other veteran soldiers. Bad luck and poor communications had delayed the unit's departure far longer than anyone planned. Unsure of the road, the technical unit had set out into the wilderness. The combat troops were far ahead, and most of the unit wondered if they could find them.
The Kipamu League's punitive strike had left at its best speed in response to rumors of a Keldon raiding party. The barbarians were supposedly encamped only miles away, resting their beasts before returning to their base across the desolate plain. The Keldons were warriors and slave takers. They had swept over the world in ages past, though it had been decades since any League city had suffered a serious attack. Now the Keldons were once again raiding Jamuraa, and the League was eager to test its strength. Friendly forces had failed to catch the raiders during the past three incursions. The lack of success against raiders was a source of embarrassment to the army and the League leaders. Some civilians said that the army was scared to attack figures from childhood nightmares. The news that a target might still be within striking distance of the Kipamu barrack provoked an immediate response. A force of war machines and mounted infantry was dispatched. The mechanical forces were steel ants, the weakest and most common element in the Kipamu arsenal. However, the high speed of the waist-high metal insectoids made them the quickest force the army could field. Besides, the commanders said the low quality of their foes presented no real challenge to the League, just Keldon trash raiding small farms.
Haddad wondered if bravado ruled the army now. Seeking to crush their own fears, the combat troops had raced out into the field. The need for speed left the support troops exposed and without escort as they followed, chivvying their plodding oxen into the cold darkness. The support troopers carried supplies and maintenance equipment, but as noncombat troops they had none of the rashness burning in the commanders who raced to fight. The veterans looked for machines or cavalry for protection, but they found none. Sergeant Atul had said if he had a choice between shivering naked with a proper column of security or maintaining the current situation, he would risk frostbite.
"Natal!" Atul called, "come here."
Haddad followed his friend forward as the sergeant sent two veterans to the rear of the column. Haddad noticed each of them looked more calm and ready than he felt. Perhaps it was only his youth making him so nervous. Things couldn't be as bad as he feared. Haddad slung his launcher off his shoulder where he usually carried it. The sling was too short to quickly shrug off, and whenever he was nervous he carried it ready to fire.
The sergeant looked at the friends but did not comment on Haddad trailing along. There were several other men gathered around, looking like they were awaiting orders.
"Natal, you and Corporal Vanosh will advance ahead of the group until you find the combat troops or some sign of the enemy. If you catch the rear guard, ask for a security detail to return with you. If you find the enemy, fall back to here. Natal, you're on point. Advance rapidly but with care. Vanosh, trail Natal at a distance, and if necessary, fall back with news." The sergeant looked into Natal's face and looked satisfied at the young man's expression of determination and anxiety. "Just remember that returning with information is more important than being a hero. What are you carrying?" Atul gestured to the launcher Natal was carrying.
"Web round, Sergeant." Many men carried heavy weapons in addition to their military short swords, leaving their shields on the wagons. These wilderness lands were said to hold the parea, giant carnivorous birds that commonly attacked men. The birds were land bound but swifter than horses, which they could chase down and dismember. The launcher Natal carried had originally been developed to allow infantry to stand off lesser war machines. The web round would ensnare a steel ant and could stop a charging bird with ease, especially with the wide arc a web round covered.
"Haddad, what are you carrying?" Sergeant Atul looked pensive and fingered the hilt of his sword unconsciously.
"War rocket, Sergeant," Haddad replied. The rocket could cripple medium machines if used with skill and reflected Haddad's confidence in his marksmanship.
"Switch with Natal." Haddad slowly handed over his weapon and accepted Natal's. His friend looked even more apprehensive as he exchanged weapons. The sergeant waved Natal and the corporal forward and then turned around. Atul looked at the wagons stacked with parts for machines that might need repair after the Keldon raiders were defeated.
"Haddad, I want you to find reloads for the men with launchers and tell the drivers to keep their personal weapons ready for dismount. We'll pull out in five minutes." The sergeant pulled a sack of wine from his belt and took a shallow draft before handing it to Haddad. The wine tasted terrible but still cut through the cold dust coating Haddad's tongue.
Natal and the corporal disappeared from sight as he handed back the wine. Haddad wondered what else might be lurking ahead.
"Natal hasn't trained much with rockets, Sergeant." Fear and concern for his friend made him talkative.
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