Stormlands ( Book 2 of the Torrent Skies Saga)

Chapter Thirteen: Onslaught

One hundred and fifty men marched from Aughk'Tor that morning, out across the sloped plains and into the forest. The trees stayed silent around them but the shifting of armor and the clanking of weapons was perfectly timed with the march step.

Lugaria hated marches.

Of course, they were the best way to move so many people with precision and uniformity but they still had problems, and traveling in a forest as they currently were the march seemed more of a formality than anything useful. He pondered the soldiers formation as he perched in the thin branches of a tree. He was far enough ahead he could spot any danger before they walked into an ambush, yet close enough to alert them should any danger arise.

Agrata and Juen'tal were out here, too. On his either side to  cover, watch, and move in tandem with him. He trusted Agrata without hesitation, and with those enchanted goggles Agrata's sight was far better than even his own. He knew there was no question to what his friend would do if something should happen.

Juen'tal, however, was a source of worry. He was quiet enough and not weighed down with heavy armor and weapons, but he was a risk. He was likely to attack if he should find any orcs as they traveled.

No one knew exactly how he would react, and that made him one of the most dangerous things in this forest. He had no issues killing, and looked almost as if he enjoyed killing orcs, but that was a worry to think upon only when he needed to act.

For the time being things were going smoothly.

In truth, he had only wanted Agrata out here with him. The two could easily do this job, and he wondered if the third set of eyes was worth such a risk. Juen'tal had shown no qualms when he was asked to scout, and had given no sign of recklessness, so far.

They cleared ground with incredible speed and efficiency. Finding no traps, no orcs and no ambushes. All of that made Lugaria uneasy. It made no sense that the orcs had made no preparations for an attack outside of their camp. It seemed odd that they would show such intelligence, and yet no forethought to lay a trap or two.

It occurred to him as he searched the trees, that they could have sent a party to Aughk'tor.

Smart, but pointless. Aughk'tor was well guarded, and set up to rain hell upon anyone near the walls. Beymor had been careful in his planning for this attack. A competent commander was the biggest advantage a war could have, and Beymor fit that role better than he believed. He had no fear of a fight, or even involving himself in one, yet he was cautious with the lives he held.

Lugaria poked his head from his hiding place, and spotted the encampment in the distance atop its grassy hill. There were many forms milling about around it and they were obviously ready for an attack. They had to know one was coming. One hundred and fifty people did not march through a forest without notice.

His thoughts swam in all the outcomes this battle could hold for them as he jogged silently back to the army. Though his pace was quick it did not exert any unnecessary energy, and his breathing  did not catch. When he made it back to the main force, he found Beymor at the front, weapons already in hand, and watching the forest carefully.

"It's not far now. Three miles till we break through the forest, another half a mile after that," Lugaria said. "And from what I saw there's nothing in our way."

"No traps? Scouts?"

"No. Their outward patrols are just circling the camp."

Beymor called a halt to the men behind him, and the sounds of armor faded into silence, as he glanced at the sky. "Any changes to the plan?"