Fear's Union

Chapter Forty-Three

—Anejo—

It was near-impossible to make out the individuals in the masses. The morning mist was simply too think. The immediate vicinity was plain to Anejo, the ranks of filed men, but beyond a few rows was only a misty whiteness. She was in a private world, sort of. She was a single grey cloaked mandahoi amongst the heavily armoured infantry of Ahan. They were the Body of Ahan, and she was something else. She shivered. She was definitely isolated.

She and Xen had remained hidden until the order to arms arrived. At that point, she'd ushered Xen into the valley. It was not unfair to say that Xen had been reluctant. In fact, Xen had been very negative about this whole idea, but her friend had followed nonetheless. Why she had followed she had not asked. Perhaps she should have insisted Xen stay in Altunia? At least her friend was several files back.

She went on tip-toes and peered back. Xen looked calm. Or that might have been a trick of her mind.

But that didn't matter now. They were in the military-machine, and there was no way out.

Now she was here, it dawned on her. She had never actually experienced the methods of Mandahoi integration into the military of Ahan. It was a technique unique to the Mandahoi, crafted by Jinal di Jinq himself. The technique turned the light armies of Ahan into the most potent force in eastern l'Unna. It was a well-taught theory. What she had not reckoned on was the practical tension.

It was a strangely hostile environment considering that she was amongst allies. She was looked upon like she was the enemy, which was unexpected. Yes, the saplings had a fearsome reputation, but still... She shivered. Eyes lingered on her, but when she looked, the staring stopped. Only to be replaced by other eyes behind her. She was isolated in here, all alone. That was strange. The look she'd shared with Xen was a brief respite, but too brief really. Dusk was coming after all.

It was barely light, and the whole world was bathed in dull grey. Red was the first colour to infiltrate the greyscale, brief flashes of it in the masses of the pillar straight infantry. The view slowly shifted from monotonous pre-dawn into stark day, and time took on proper definition. As Mother Bright finally burst over the eastern horizon, the light shifted. The mist dissipated and the extent of things became clear. That was a lot of men.

The ranks were uncountable, an ordered mass all about her. The sporadic grey of the mandahoi barely broke the unending spread of polished armour, and officers commanded from high horsebacks. Could anything compete with this collection of military might? Dusk was coming, and that was another proposition altogether.

Silence filled the valley called the Bloody Gash. The name said it all. Was this the right thing to have done? Yes! Yes it was. Definitely. She scraped at the skin of her thumb and chewed her lip. The rich copper taste flooded her mouth.

Was she really prepared for this? No doubts; not now.

She had never doubted previously. But the truth was that she had precious little active experience. Nazalia had been a conflict created for her order, a fight of open spaces where her skills could sing freely. The battle for Altunia had been chaotic, a brief flurry of activity before the gates of her home. This, however, was something else altogether. The ranks pressed in, and the unseen enemy crushed her, giving her a headache. She was thirsty, and she licked her lips. They were already scabbing over.

There was a burst of commotion, whispers passed through the ranks. Horsemen were approaching from the distance, hooves beating the ground and dust being thrown up. Sensors. They had returned with news, and judging by their urgency, there was only one message. Her heart quickened. The wait was excruciating, the wind growing and whipping through the valley. She shivered. It seemed cold for this time of year.