Chapter 604: A Hill Forlorn
A Hill Forlorn
Contrary to Martel's expectations, the vanguard was not ambushed as it marched through the woods east of the outpost. The only surprise was that after four days, the forest ended. Martel had assumed it stretched onwards much longer; he had gotten this impression from when he and Eleanor had travelled through it to ambush the Khivan supply train. It turned out, if they had continued a little longer, they would have been beyond the woods.
Ahead of them stretched open, flat land. Martel guessed this was farmland once, given how abruptly the forest ended. Probably, the war had forced any inhabitants to flee, leaving overgrown plains. The mounted cohort would be happy with this. Plenty of grazing for their horses.
One centuria stayed behind and began chopping trees, which served two purposes; it would begin clearing a road to Esmouth, and the timber would be needed to establish their forward position. The remainder of the fifth cohort, along with two extra prefects, continued the march.
***
After two more full days of travelling, the fifth cohort reached the small hill meant to serve as their camp. The Tyrian scouts had not led them astray; it was the only place of any elevation among the otherwise flat terrain, giving them a domineering position to control their surroundings. It also allowed them to see any enemies from afar. Lastly, the small tributary of the Savena flowed to the north, just a few miles away, providing them with fresh water.
The legionaries immediately set to work fortifying their new camp as best they could. For now, this was mostly ditches being dug with the removed earth used to create primitive ramparts. Sharpened poles brought along from the outpost were buried into the ground by the ditches, denying entry to cavalry. The remaining timber was spent building a watchtower towards the east.
While this work took place, Avery dispatched both Tyrian scouts and regular patrols to ensure the area was clear of enemies. To appear busy, and since the mageknight could just command him to do it, Martel volunteered to do patrols as well. At least right now, there was little reason to fear Khivan soldiers, and it would give him and Eleanor a chance to become familiar with the terrain. Still, they stuck to the open plains rather than approach the forests that lay north and south of their position, a day's march from their new camp.
As expected, the two mages encountered nothing when leaving the hill, other than field mice scurrying away hearing their approach. It was good land with fertile soil; once tilled and sowed again, these fields could feed many people.
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On the second day after their arrival, Martel and Eleanor travelled as far east as they dared, until the walls of a town came into sight in the far distance. Namin, the target of their campaign as declared by the legate. This far out, they could not tell if the arrival of the cohort had caused an uproar or even been noticed by the Khivans; whether making frantic preparations for battle or still a sleepy town, it looked the same when viewed from many miles away.
Upon their return, they saw that the sixth cohort under Valerius had arrived as well, along with the centuria left behind at the forest edge. With plenty of timber, proper fortifications could be made under the supervision of the legion's engineers. The earthworks were given palisades, providing good defence against any trying to assault. More watchtowers rose, covering every main direction. A gate both east and west allowed for swift movement. Finally, fences enclosed a pasture between the camp and the river in anticipation of horses.
***
Although they were on campaign, Eleanor saw no reason to let discipline slide, and so Martel spent the following morning sparring with her as usual. He spent the remaining day in idle fashion, as he had no specific orders. He was sure this would change soon enough, once the remaining legions arrived; he could imagine being put to use leading an assault on the town, perhaps destroying its gate with his spellcraft, like he had done last year when they assaulted a Khivan encampment. While his magic could do little against stone, he felt confident in his ability to destroy wood and timber.
But that was all speculation and not relevant for now, so he would enjoy these stolen hours before war returned to his life and he was sent to battle. Much like the forest surrounding the outpost, the land was pleasant enough, especially as the weather was pleasant and continued to grow milder.
Martel did not stray far from camp, knowing how risky that could be, even if they had yet to sight any Khivans, but he allowed himself a wash in the small river. Although terribly cold, he expelled all the water on his skin once he got up and set fire to a fallen log, providing him with heat. Some soldiers, passing by on their way to fetch water, spend a few moments warming their hands before continuing on their task with words of gratitude.
Once back in camp, Martel noticed a change. The mood had grown more tense, with more guards lining the walls as a symptom. He quickly sought out Eleanor. His question must have been obvious on his face, as she replied before he could even speak. "A patrol spotted Khivan soldiers, and they have seen us. Half a day's journey to the east. They know we are here."
"Well, we figured they would eventually."
"A few more days would have been nice. The Tenth has only just left Esmouth. It could be seven or eight days before they reach us."
"Any orders for us?" Martel asked.
She nodded. "Sir Avery wants us to do one of the daily patrols until the legion arrives. We switch between north, south, or east."
"Just the two of us, right?"
"She accepted we are more effective on our own."
"Alright. Which direction tomorrow? You know, it doesn't matter. It's all the same, really." Martel blew out his breath. "Let's get something to eat."
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