Warsong (Hunter-Killer #2)

Chapter 22 - Offer One Hand and Arm the Other

Three days later, Marshal Llewellyn and the other commanders were finally able to drag the human advance to a halt. A complex zigzag of strong points now pockmarked the tactical maps where human forces had dug in to hold off any Scraegan counter pushes, while stopping their own grinding advance. Other groups had to push forward hard to find a defensible position. The balance was delicate. Any units that ended up too far forward could be exposed to flanking attacks and surrounded.

Engineering Cadre teams deployed dangerously far forward to set up battlefield seismics, sub-sonic minefields and earthworks for militia units to hold. Heavy artillery needed secure locations to bunker down, their flanks guarded and with firing solutions on any lines of advance the Scraegans might use.

Ryke knew that by all normal metrics their drive south had been a success, despite the casualties rising exponentially on both sides. Despite the cost, they'd driven the Scraegans out of some of the strongholds, seizing the underground bases from which they could launch their guerilla strikes. The vast, craggy expanse of the Scraegar Labyrinth loomed like a shadow on the horizon, the enemy's greatest natural fortress.

But the new threat had changed everything.

He grimly read the reports of strikes on human supply columns, trying to discern some kind of pattern. There would be legions of support staff and analysts doing the same, but he couldn't help himself. The strange arthropod creatures lacked the intelligence of the Scraegans, which in some ways made them even more dangerous. The attacks came totally at random, few and far between right now, but enough to put a seed of dread in his gut. Things were getting worse – the human army was already stretched to maintain their current battle-line against the Scraegans. The last thing they needed right now was a second front.

The senior officers convened in the armoured safety of forward command, with the express purpose of stopping that from happening. Llewellyn, Harcourt and Hackley were joined by a phalanx of other commanders, including Major De Lunta, and a female field commander from Rubicon, Brigadier Vanyr. It was the first time he'd encountered this woman. He discovered quickly that she much preferred to be out in the field directing the armoured columns in person, rather than giving status reports.

Not for the first time, Ryke felt insignificant with so much brass on display. The lowest ranked officer by several rungs, he was only here because he was the one who'd put the plan forward in the first place.

Talk to the Scraegans. Find a way to broker a truce, at least a temporary one. Nobody else in the human army could claim to have come close to something like that. On the one hand, Ryke felt valued, eager to contribute. On the other, he wished to every Riverlord watching that someone else could have taken on this responsibility. He was trained to fight, not to talk.

"We're still seeing isolated skirmishes in our forward positions," Brigadier Vanyr reported. She was a tall, wiry woman with dark skin and a thick braid of black hair that coiled snake-like around her shoulders. She indicated the pulsing red dots on the three-dimensional battle display. "Our people have orders to hold their ground, but in some areas they're sitting a few hundred yards from Scraegan warrens. They test us every few hours – cannon barrages followed up by quick strikes, no more than a couple of packs at a time. They're probing for a weak point."

"Let them," Harcourt rumbled. "We can redirect support units from stable sectors to reinforce those hotspots in the short term."

"People are dying out there with every shot." Vanyr looked at the other officers grimly. "These are not positions we can maintain indefinitely. We either need to press forward soon to fully break the Scraegan line, or withdraw."

"You will hold your positions," Llewellyn told her. "For the time being. You're well aware of our new variable in this war."

"Oh, I'm aware." Vanyr placed her hands on her hips, looking at him. "There have been incidents along the western flank – they're getting worse."