Personal Account 8
From the 2nd Combined Army
The cries of the wounded and dying were unceasing, as the battlefield seemed to writhe with the dead and dying. It had been a short, brutal battle after the arrival of the four Sicinian brigades. Suddenly attacked on two sides and with 50,000 men under General Alexandre threatening to cut off all retreat to Ongro, the Zagorlad force retreated from the field leaving a quarter of their number behind and prodded on Coalition bullets and bayonets.
The remainder of the night had been turned over towards mending the damages of battle, as wounded were carried off the field and the saws of the surgeons went about their bloody work. The Akaeians and the Sicinians camped down next to each other, and as the night wore on more and more men switched campfires and old soldiers songs could heard being sung in both Sicinian and Akaeian. Two entire battalions, one Akaeian and one Sicinian, had been placed far beyond the camp as picquets, supported by several companies of cavalry and cannons already loaded with canister. The mistake of the 9th Foot would not be repeated; there would be no more surprise assaults.
Brigadier General d'Fayme wound his way through the camp towards the Akaeian headquarters. His uniform was spotless and his 500 coronum stallion brushed and glossy, the only red badge of courage the side of his head where a stray bullet had taken off part of his ear. The ten flap was held aside by two soldiers and d'Fayme entered.
"Sir," he saluted the figure who stood with several Akaeian colonels over a large campaign map: General Edros Anentophras.
"You made quite an entrance this evening, Brigadier," remarked Anentophras, smiling, "I cannot remember a more welcome sight in all my days."
d'Fayme blushed despite himself. "It looks like we missed most of the fight," he said, seeking to turn the praise around, "What you and your army made through; it's amazing."
Anentophras nodded in appreciation of the compliment. "I merely follow orders, Brigadier, as do we all." He beckoned d'Fayme over to the map. "Come, we have tomorrow to discuss. I have heard Alexandre has taken most of the 4th and some of the 3rd and marched behind the enemy?"
"That's correct sir," d'Fayme indicated a spot on the map; a town straddling the main road to Ongro. "This is Beldorford, sir, The entire army has taken positions around and the town and has thrown up trenches and earthworks, the place is a fortress now, my couriers have told me."
The Akaeian general nodded. "It seems my Sicinian compatriot is not atking any chance of a night attack either. That caught us all off guard, I must admit. So, does Alexandre request relief from us?"
The Brigadier could resist a touch of the Sicinian hubris as he said proudly. "Relief? Ha, it'll take more than that rabble of Zagorladians to unseat 50,000 crack Sicinian troops with fortifications and artillery. I hear even took some of those new Rocquet things with him."
"Rockets?" Anentophras tried to get his tongue around the word. He shrugged and moved on. "Then we will advance tomorrow. The enemy will be crushed between us and Alexandre. I trust the siege mortars are being brought up?"
"Already here, sir." d'Fayme flashed the General his infectious grin as he saltued and, with a crack of his heels, departed. The time, of fighting a defensive war was over, the advance would begin again.
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