Chương 132: Time to Hunt

In a military camp outside Kaltbach. The town had closed itself. Iris stood at the edge of a map table beneath a tent, rainwater dripping from her hair onto the shoulders of her uniform. Around her, twelve squad commanders crowded close enough that their shoulders nearly touched. Most wore the crimson trim of House Hexenzeit's private forces. A few had Magical Army insignia stitched onto their collars. At the head of the table, the field commander planted both palms beside the wooden model representing Kaltbach.

"Encircle the town," he said.

"No one enters. No one leaves. Every road, goat path, drainage culvert, and field track is to be watched. We will bring this revolt to an end without wasting soldiers on a street-by-street assault." His finger traced the roads converging on the town. The east road toward Silberwald, the northwestern trade route into Wolkenmark, and a southern road that vanished into the mountains between three minor principalities.

"They have no functioning supply line," he continued.

"Once the cordon is established, they will consume whatever they have stored. Then they will surrender." One of the captains nodded approvingly. The commander straightened. He was a broad, hard-faced man with close-cropped iron hair and a cloak clasped by the red flame of House Hexenzeit.

"Your companies will establish four sectors. Captain Vollmer, north. Captain Jäger, east. Captain Hess, west. The southwestern approach belongs to Lieutenant Iris and Captain Grunwald's contingent." Iris studied the map. Her assigned sector included the river road, three abandoned farms, a collapsed mill, and a forested slope. The southwestern line was the most difficult to seal. Too many places where a guide who knew the country could move people past a hundred soldiers. Captain Grunwald grunted beside her.

"We'll need another twenty soldiers for the riverbank," he said.

"The water's shallow enough to cross two kilometers south."

"You have what you have," the field commander replied. Grunwald's mouth tightened. The field commander dragged a black marker into place on the northwestern road.

"Our scouts confirm Wolkenmark units are advancing toward the border. We do not yet know whether the Republic intends to intervene openly." A low murmur passed around the table. The older officers looked angry, the younger ones eager. Neither reaction reassured her. The field commander waited until the whispers died.

"Kaltbach is Imperial territory. Whatever grievances its council claims to possess, whatever slogans its people paint on their walls, the town remains subject to Imperial law. If Wolkenmark gains possession of it, even temporarily, the result will be a political humiliation with military consequences." He tapped the wooden block.

"One city defects. A second begins considering it. A third asks whether the Empire can still defend its borders. Then every minor lord with a trade dispute or an unpaid grievance begins shopping for a new patron." Iris looked past him toward the open pavilion flap. Kaltbach sat less than four kilometers away. Close enough that she could make out the dark shapes moving along its boundary wall. Militia, tradesmen with hunting bows, farmers gripping old spears. Maybe a handful of real soldiers.

And we brought enough men to fight a border war. Nearly nine hundred Hexenzeit troops had gathered around the town over the last four days. Another four hundred came from the Regular Army. Not enough to fight Wolkenmark if the Republic crossed the border. The elves pressed from the south. Titans had begun converging on Qalathar. The border principalities watched for weakness. Now a northern town had raised its own banner, expelled the Imperial magistrate, and petitioned Wolkenmark for recognition.

Still, humanity was doing an admirable job of destroying the Empire. The field commander rested one hand on the hilt of his wand.

"If anyone attempts to breach the cordon, you have permission to eliminate the target." Iris's gaze returned to him.

"Challenge them once. If they fail to stop, kill them. The people inside Kaltbach must understand the strength of the Empire and the consequences of defying it." Iris shook her head. Grunwald noticed.

"What?" he murmured. She kept her voice low.

"It's a shit order." His eyes flicked toward the field commander.

"Keep that opinion inside your skull. Just because you got bumped a rank doesn't mean I care what you think."

"If they're trying to leave, they're less trouble outside than inside."

"They can carry messages."

"Or children." Grunwald's jaw flexed.

"Then I suggest the parents stop when challenged." Iris looked at him. He held her gaze for half a second before turning back toward the map. The field commander began assigning reserve positions, comm-crystal posts, and signal-flare sequences. Iris listened and memorized. A siege made sense if the goal was to avoid bloodshed. The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement. A siege with a kill order was a threat stretched over days.

The town would run out of medicine before it ran out of food. The sick would be the first to die. Then the elderly. Then children. Once hunger took hold, people would try to escape in darkness. Soldiers would see movement. Someone would loose a spell. Someone else would panic. By dawn, a ditch would be full of bodies, and every officer responsible would call it an unfortunate consequence of rebellion. Then Wolkenmark will parade the corpses through every newspaper in the north.

The Republic wanted proof that a border town might prefer Wolkenmark law, and that House Hexenzeit could no longer hold it without an army at its back. If Wolkenmark planted its flag over Kaltbach, the blow to Imperial morale would spread farther than any military loss. And if one of the minor kingdoms decided to join the dispute, the situation would become worse. So far, the surrounding principalities appeared content to watch.

Their scouts lingered near the roads, their merchants stopped accepting long-term contracts, and their lords issued statements about "regional stability."

"Sir." The voice came from the far end of the table. A squad commander stepped forward. Young. Red Hexenzeit trim at the collar. Iris knew him only as Lieutenant Eberhard, though his posture suggested he thought the rank temporary. The field commander gestured for him to continue.

"Our scouts identified the town's primary granary." That brought immediate silence. Eberhard leaned over the map and indicated a block near Kaltbach's southern quarter.

"Here. The old municipal storehouse. Stone ground floor, timber upper structure. The rebels have moved most of their grain reserves inside it."

"How much?" the field commander asked.

"Enough for several weeks, perhaps more if rationed." Captain Grunwald's beard shifted as he pressed his lips together.

"We could burn it." Iris stared at him. The lieutenant spoke faster now, confidence growing as no one interrupted.

"Long-range fire magic would be too dangerous. The buildings around it are tightly packed. A bombardment could spread across the entire southern district."

"How considerate," Iris muttered. Grunwald shot her a warning look. Eberhard either didn't hear or pretended not to.

"But a small shock unit could enter through the southern drainage culvert. Our scouts found the outlet this morning. The passage is narrow, but traversable. They could reach the granary, ignite the grain stores, and withdraw before the rebels understand what happened." One of the officers stepped closer to the table.

"How many soldiers?"

"Ten. Perhaps twelve."

"Resistance?"

"Light in the southern quarter. Most of the rebel militia is watching the eastern and northern roads." The field commander looked down at the map. Iris saw the idea take hold. A way to end the siege before Wolkenmark reached the town, something he could put into a report and call efficient. Eberhard moved the marker through the painted streets.

"If the granary is destroyed, their resistance collapses immediately. They will have no way to sustain the population. Even the council's most committed supporters will turn on them once rationing fails."

"They will surrender within days," another officer said.

"Within forty-eight hours," Eberhard replied.

"Possibly sooner." Iris felt cold despite the bodies packed around her. Hundreds of people lived in Kaltbach. Burning the granary would erase the town's only shield against starvation. Even if Kaltbach surrendered the following morning, someone would still need to feed it. That meant wagons. Supply contracts. Military escorts. Thousands of silver in grain, transport, storage, and distribution. It meant admitting responsibility for the people they had just stripped of food. She put the odds at zero.

Roderich von Hexenzeit didn't nurture territory that wasn't his. He spent strength where strength produced a return. He wanted the revolt extinguished before it invited Wolkenmark across the border. Once the flame went out, he would expect the local population to shovel the ashes. Whether people starved in those ashes, that was a problem for someone else.

"Sir," Iris said.

"Lieutenant?"

"Destroying the granary might shorten the siege," she said.

"It might also hand the rebels exactly what they need." Eberhard frowned.

"Hunger?"

"A martyr story." The lieutenant's frown deepened. Iris put one finger on the northwestern road.

"Wolkenmark is already moving troops toward us. Kaltbach has petitioned them for recognition. If we burn the town's food supply, every starving civilian becomes an argument for intervention."

"They are Imperial citizens in armed rebellion," Eberhard said.

"Wolkenmark won't print that." A few officers looked away.

"They'll say the Empire starved a border town. They'll call it proof that Kaltbach needs Republican protection. Every family that might have pressured the council to surrender will blame us instead." Eberhard gave a short, humorless laugh.

"Hungry people don't stay loyal." Iris looked directly at him.

"If the granary burns, Kaltbach may open the northwestern gate and invite Wolkenmark inside. Then we will be fighting the Republic in streets full of starving civilians." Rain hammered against the pavilion roof. The field commander's gaze remained on Iris.

"Do you have an alternative?"

"Negotiate. Offer a deadline. Amnesty for the militia if they surrender the council. Food guarantees for the population. Separate the people from the leaders."

"They killed men from the Regular Army. They raised a foreign-aligned banner over an Imperial administrative building. And now you propose we reward them."

"I propose we make surrender less frightening than resistance."

"They had that choice before they murdered Imperial soldiers."

"Sir—""No." The field commander turned toward Eberhard.

"Your proposal is approved." The lieutenant's face brightened.

"You will enter tonight," the commander continued.

"Before the cordon is fully visible from inside the town. A small group, as suggested. No more than twelve." He pointed toward three other sectors.

"Captain Jäger will move two companies against the eastern approach. Visible formation, shield wagons, preparation for a breach. Captain Vollmer will light artillery circles north of the town and begin ranging spells against empty ground beyond the wall. Captain Hess will send mounted patrols along the western road." His finger landed on the southern district.

"The rebels will shift their attention toward the demonstrations. Eberhard's unit enters through the culvert, burns the granary, and withdraws." He looked at Iris.

"Your squad will reinforce the southern cordon and support their extraction." Iris's teeth pressed together.

"Understood."

"Do you?" Iris held his gaze.

"I understand the order." The field commander's stare lingered before he turned away.

"Comm crystals will remain silent unless the operation is compromised. Movement begins in one hour." The meeting broke apart. Officers pushed into the rain, shouting for runners. Boots sucked at the mud. Horses were pulled from lines. Grunwald caught Iris by the elbow before she left the pavilion.

"You enjoy testing how close you can stand to a cliff." She pulled her arm free. Grunwald lowered his voice.

"Wolkenmark's advance elements could reach the ridge tomorrow. If Kaltbach still holds when they arrive, the Republic will force negotiations. We lose the town without a battle."

"So we starve it before they get here." Grunwald's expression turned tired.

"Iris, this isn't the South. No one here gets to swing at a monster and know the person beside them wants the same thing."

"No," she said.

"Here we choose the monster ourselves." Grunwald swore under his breath. Then he stepped closer.

"If Eberhard's unit is caught, the field commander will send more men after them. Then more after those. You're assigned support because your Earth magic can get them out without bringing down half the street."

"I know."

"Then save your outrage until the soldiers are back." Iris looked toward Kaltbach. She adjusted the strap of her staff across her back.

"When do we move?" Grunwald looked toward the gathering troops.

"Now." Inside Kaltbach.

"They're entering." The warning came from a boy crouched atop the cooper's roof. He slid down a rain barrel, landed badly, and nearly lost his footing on the wet stones. His father's old hunting bow hung across his back, too large for him. Brindle fur showed at his wrists. His ears were too long for his skull, and a blunt wet nose kept working the rain. He ran into the central square. People turned toward him. Shopkeepers and laborers.

Women with butcher knives in their sashes, old men with spears that had not been sharpened in years. Mara stood at the square's center, a Harpy in a dark wool coat cut for her wings. Past thirty. A pale scar across the bridge of her nose. Brown-black feathers swept from her shoulder blades to just above her calves, the outer edges ragged from old breaks and poor healing. Another scar disappeared beneath the collar of her coat. Two medals from her years in the Regular Army still hung from the breast of that coat.

Neither medal had won her town the grain allotment it needed to eat.

"How many?" she asked.

"Twelve. I smelled twelve separate people. They used the southern drain like you said." The people nearest her muttered. Mara looked toward the southern quarter. The bells continued ringing east, exactly as the Imperial officers intended. Kaltbach's militia had run to the boundary wall in full view of the army outside. Men hauled barrels. Archers climbed roofs. The town appeared frightened and disorganized.

"Did they see you?" Mara asked. The boy shook his head.

"No." Mara turned toward the waiting men and women. Harpy wings shifted beneath patched coats, feathers rasping softly as weapons came free.

"Harpies," she said.

"I promised you a hunt."