Kingdom of the Weak 194 The Going

Three days of observation from the highlands plateau gave Phoebe and the others a rough idea of what was what.

First of all, the closest combating forces to the plateau were the Bulrak and Bellas forces. The Bulraki had a huge lot of cavalry, a great many of which were heavy cavalry, including their famous Bull Riders. They trampled just about everything in their path. The Bellai, on the other hand, had fortified positions up and down the entire highland range where their plateau was at. Tall, sleek guard towers dotted the hills, armed with ballistas and crossbowmen.

To be honest, Phoebe had expected the Bulraki to wipe out the Bellai in short order. The Bulraki were generally a physically strong people, if a bit coarse in culture. The Bellai, on the other hand, were people of a country that was basically founded by beauty. An old emperor was so enamored of a beauty that he offered her anything she wanted, even up to half his kingdom, in the similar fashion as an old legend. Who knew she would immediately take him up on his offer and proceed to raise a country even more prosperous than his own? The new kingdom belonged to the beauty named Bella. It was Bella's, and over time officially adopted the name of Bellas.

The people of Bellas, therefore, generally valued beauty. Every Bellai soldier in the battlefield was handsome. Phoebe saw a Bellai woman in armor the first day, and even she looked handsome rather than beautiful. Having said that, their weapons were not lacking in power. Practically every crossbow and every ballista on those towers were magical, and they had magi magically monitoring the area for miles around. Despite the speed of the Bulraki cavalry, they were never caught off-guard. Not even once.

The Bulraki, however, definitely had the upper hand in terms of numbers and mobility. They had cleanly cut off the Bellai supply lines and all attempts to resupply their slender forts were thoroughly trounced. Airships were rammed and went down as easily as the Red Fang had been. Wagons were raided from all sides. Out on the open field, Bulraki heavy cavalry easily outmaneuvered and overwhelmed even the most heavily protected caravans. The Bellai even tried sending trickles of hand-hauled supplies carried by dozens of small, sneaky squads. The Bulraki cavalry scoured the countryside with scout cavalry and caught just about all of them.

Eventually, Bellas decided to stop sending supplies; every attempt they did to supply their forts only resulted in their provisions being stolen, and in a way, they were only feeding the Bulraki. With such numbers, the Bulraki supply lines were completely insufficient to provide for their forces. Most of them were basically living off raided Bellas supplies. With those supplies stopped, both the Bellas and the Bulraki were going to have to face the problem of hunger. In those three days of observation, the area had quickly been foraged clean. The war around here was turning into a contest of who could starve out the other first.

"Who do you think will win?" Mindy asked on the third day, still nursing a terrible headache.

"I don't know. As long as they don't come looking for our food, I don't really care." Phoebe answered.

Right. In terms of food supply, the Red Fang had enough to last everyone about a month. The armies out there, on the other hand, were already going around with hungry faces. The Bulraki were choosing which fort to attack based entirely on how much food they believed were in those forts.

"If you're worried about them coming for our food, why don't we make a move now?" Mindy asked.

"Same reason. This isn't going to last much longer. Pretty soon, the Bulraki would have to move on." Remian told her, similarly nursing a bad headache. "That's the way the Bulraki are. They come, they raid what they need, and then they move on. Since the supplies here have stopped, there's nothing left here for them. They'll move on soon enough, and then we can make our move much more safely."

"Well, we can't afford to wait much longer either. Talia's not in good shape either."

Right. Talia was in the next region, where Ashdale and La Vive were fighting Germat. The battle there was much fiercer, and the weapons employed were far deadlier. Around here, the Bulraki and Bellas were fighting with magic spears, crossbows, and ballistae. Over there, the armies were shooting cannons by the hundreds.

On top of that, half of Talia's surviving crew were badly injured. Trying to travel was a bad idea, much less skulk through the war zone. Their best bet would be for an airship pick-up.

As of this morning, that possibility became feasible. With some patchwork repairs, the Red Fang was once again airworthy. While Phoebe wouldn't dare to take it above the clouds or into strong winds, it was at least capable of limping its way back to Itarim.

Oh, and one more thing.

They had the prototype Wasp on board. While still very shaky and hardly dependable, in Phoebe's opinion, it was still able to zip over to Talia's location and ferry the wounded back. A second trip, and all the survivors could be here with them on the Plateau within hours.

Assuming that is, that the Wasp wasn't shot down en route. Even the Bulraki cavalry could launch their spears magically hundreds of meters into the air. Getting to Talia with the Red Fang was suicide; they would have to sneak their way to her at low altitudes to avoid detection.

Obviously, sneaking across the highlands as they were now was a still a very dangerous proposition. That was why Remian wanted to wait until the Bulraki cleared out. They'd leave soon, he said.

That was two days ago. He said the same thing yesterday, and he said the same thing today. But until now, they still hadn't cleared out.

"Tomorrow." Remian said at last. "If they don't clear out by tomorrow…"

"Then?"

"Then I'll make a move myself."

***

The next day, a squad of Bulraki light cavalry had a strange encounter during one of their perimeter patrols.

There was a lonely figure shuffling along the road toward the deepest part of the war zone.

"Who are you?" seeing only one man, alone, the squad felt it unnecessary to report in until they had something substantial to report. After all, there were four of them, they were on horseback, they were fully armed, and there were allies within minutes of them. What could they have to fear from this shuffling, lonely fellow?
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In response, the guy only looked them over, nodded to himself, and then asked them, "Why are the Bulraki forces still in this area?"

The squad leader snapped, "WE ask the questions here, you…"

"Quiet, you." The man said.

The squad leader's mouth kept moving, but no sound came out afterward. He blinked, coughed, tried to say something, but no sound emerged.

"Someone else, tell me. Why are the Bulraki still here? There's nothing left for you here. No food, no goods to raid. Why do you still linger?"

"That's none of your business!" the second rider snapped.

"You, quiet." The guy said.

The second rider, too, found himself strangely muted.

"Someone else. Tell me, why?"

"I have no idea." The third rider said honestly.

Meanwhile the fourth one raised his spear and threw it at the weird guy.

The weird guy raised a hand. "Freeze."

They froze. The spear and the whole squad of riders were suddenly engulfed in ice, all at once, forming an odd ice-sculpture of four riders and a flung spear out in the open in broad daylight.

"Whoops." Remian grimaced. "Now I can't ask them any more questions."

Never mind. Tiredly, he shuffled onward down the road into the heart of the world war.

Chapter end

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