I pace around the memorial wing of the palace while sweat trickles down my brow.
How did they take over the fort? How can lowly slaves achieve what should've been impossible?
Their success is not a minor feat. They must've completely taken over their mine of perhaps five thousand Dogs. That's a capable fighting force if they all dare to fight us.
We can't match them for numbers if all the Dogs rebel. We don't have enough military personnel. At most, we have just over five hundred thousand soldiers spread out along the Empire. We outnumber them for now, but if they grow their numbers by taking over more mines, we might be in trouble. The other mines will naturally eager to join them.
The statue of General San Granious watches over me. The fiery light of the torches makes the figure look more menacing than it does during the morning hours. He led the Cinaris Empire during the first Sand Campaign, crushing the Dodads and their petty resistance. How would he see the Dogs? Weak? A threat?
Why are the other Commanders see the Dogs as a lesser threat? Perhaps they are right and I am overreacting. Maybe the Dogs are just a minor thorn in the side of our powerful Empire.
But it all comes back to the how. How did they take over the fort? Even if the fort was under repair and was manned by a skeleton crew, they still lost. They were well trained, knew how to choke the enemy if they attacked, and how to organise a swift counterattack.
'San Danvious-Granious. I remembered that man when he was just a foot soldier,' a voice behind me speaks.
I shift my body in a fright to see the old Shaman.
'Danvious-Granious? I never knew he was married,' I reply.
'I was at his wedding. His husband was a real charmer, that one. I am pretty sure he was a baker.'
'That's interesting,' I sigh. 'Is there anything you need help with, Shaman?'
'On no, I came here to talk to you about the war meeting.'
I gulp as my mind races, what I could have done to get his attention?
'No need to panic, you are not in trouble.'
I sigh in relief; I've heard stories of people being on his bad side. But I can't let my guard down. Maybe this is a test to make me slip? I need to be careful with him.
'What did you want to talk about?' I ask.
'You are the youngest Commander there, the most noticeable second to the human, and yet you questioned the severity of the Dogs. Usually the more experienced Commanders would do that and the young ones would undermine them. Why did you take that stand?'
I pause. Does he also think they are a threat?
'The Dogs have taken over Fort Balis and possibly Dragon mine. To think they are not a threat is foolish.'
The old Shaman raises an eyebrow. 'You don't sound like you believe it. Why?'
'They are Dogs, cattle that only mine minerals and farm on our island.'
The room drowns in silence while the Shaman gives me a blank stare.
'But it doesn't make sense. They still won,' I continue.
'Calling them cattle is foolish, Commander. Cattle don't take forts, speak your language or harvest the earth. They maybe a different species to us, but similar in many ways.'
I scoff. 'Similar! They are just beast! They can't comprehend our civilisation and the wonders we have achieved. We are vastly different and superior.'
'I see,' he says, sounding disappointed in my response. 'Maybe they don't understand our way of life, but that is not because they are underdeveloped, as some of your peers will say. It's because we only gave them a life of enteral servitude. You won't understand their civilisation either. To them, they see you as beast.'
The Shaman looks at the statue and rubs his hands along the base while I process what he said.
'What about you? Are you going to fight the Dogs?' The Shaman ask me.
'No! Rommel is one of the best Commanders of our time leading the charge, he can easily deal with the Dogs.'
'One Commander isn't going to bring victory in a war. Granious may have been the one leading, but his real success was in the Commanders he appointed to fight the Dodads.'
'What are you saying?'
The Shaman gives me a blank stare. 'This war will be bloody if the Dogs gain momentum. They naturally hate our race and they will fight to the death to stay free. If they liberate another mine, and then another, their defeat would be nearly impossible. The Cinaris Empire, for all its rich history, could collapse if they lose to their slaves.'
I want to challenge his response, but deep down, I know he is right. A defeat at the hands of our slaves will damage our reputation and relevance on a global scale.
He waits for my response, but he knows I have nothing more to say. As he walks down the hall, he taps his stick on the ground, breaking our silence.
He stops before the corner, facing me one last time. 'Before I go, Commander, remember that your enemy will not halt. They will not surrender or falter. You are fighting an army of the likes your Empire has never faced before. And you will need to be ready for when the time comes to face them.' The Shaman waves as he disappears into the darkness of the palace's halls.
I look at the night sky, trying to understand what the Shaman means. I have faith that Commander Earl could easily defeat the Dogs, but, maybe the Shaman is right. One Commander isn't going to bring victory to a war alone.
YOU ARE READING
March To The Capital
FantasyThey deserve what happens to them. Ever since they enslaved us, ever since they shackle us underground to bring them their ore or chain above ground to harvest their grain. We suffered, while they fattened their bellies. No more, now we deserve just...