Chapter Two

"I almost feel bad for them, you know?" Brujmur mutters looking at the broadside wagons at the end of the narrow road that they're supposed to cross.

"Did you say something, sir?" A blemished Amazonian approaches the opulent armored knight from his right flank.

"Nothing, Tamona." He waves it off. "I guess we should give them credit. Looks like they're gonna fight us after all."

Tamona hums thoughtfully, keenly observing their quarry atop their makeshift barricades with crude weaponry in tow. "I'll give credit where credit's due. That's a smart move. Anyone going up against the Red Blades head on has a death wish."

Brujmur gives Tamona a sharp glare. "What was that, Lieutenant?"

Tamona fearlessly gives her superior her full attention. "A frontal assault is going to be a pain. Even pitchforks can look scary."

The annoyed scoff from her superior is a stark warning that Brujmur will remember her words. She just simply wishes that, for once, he would heed them.

Brujmara shakes her head. "It matters not." He dismissively twists around and marches back to the vanguard of a dense sea of silver and crimson. Such a glimmer from each set of armor worn by these knights is eye catching, too breath taking. "By the grace of the Father, we have caught the vermin in our trap. Now, all we have to do is choke the life from them!"

Tamona is quick to keep pace with him. "So, we plan to charge them head on?"

"Do you object, Lieutenant?"

Tamona wisely shakes her head. "No sir. In fact, that's the wisest course we can do right now." Her sharp eyes scan the marshes, every thicket, every possible detour that might make their assault more decisive. But at this angle, every direction can work, and none will work at all. Spying on Brujmur's adamant face, Tamona knows that she should keep her opinions to herself.

At least for now.

"Then it's decided." Brujmur declares, arrogantly turning his horse away from the rebels. "Prepare your company to advance. We'll run down every last one of the scum!"

An unamused glare plaster's Tamona's face imagining all of the Red Blades charging down that little narrow path. Father watch over the poor bastards who get trapped down the road, unable to move, that is if the boys don't fall of their mounts and get trampled.

Out of all the uncontested victories the Red Blades have carved out, this one will be the most hallow.

"I'll have my company ready for the assault." Tamona smartly replies with nothing more to add.

With the departure of the commander and his junior, Tamona scurries over to her men, a gruff yet loosely regimental folk, in the hundreds, tempered by time and conflict. Aside from their specific customizations of their armor, their sturdy mounts, along with ornaments of their choosing, all of them are united by their faded red tunics.

"What's the plan, Chief?" One of the men, a shirtless brute revealing her burly build with his tunic recklessly wrapped around his head, stomps to her.

Tamona grimly shakes her head. "Our prey chose their stand well, Fero . We take the direct route, well... a lot of mothers are going to be getting the worst news of their lives."

"But... we're goin' in, right?" Fero asks, his tone dripping with anticipation.

She casts him a look. "You going yellow on me?"

"Ya kiddin'? I was worried you were getting cold feet!"

Such flippancy is quickly rewarded with a brutal smite on the head.

"Never gonna hear the end of it with you, am I?"

"Hey, nothin' personal chief. You've just always been the nervous nelly of the family!" Fero laughs, tending his head with his hand. "So then... whaddya thinkin'?"

Tamona turns towards the wilds, the path ahead is shrouded in mist, tangled with vines and disturbing roots looking as if to drag any to the depths. No one would ever dare to venture out there.

And that's what makes it perfect.

"We're making a detour." The Amazonian lieutenant motions towards the foreboding alternative.

Fero follows Tamona's gesturing towards the swamp and the muscles tighten from a worried frown.

"Ya sure, Chief? Looks'a little... I dunno..."

Tamona lets out a bitter laugh. "Don't tell me that's where you draw the line!"

"Well, just look at it!" He protests. "We go through there, who knows what'll happen! W'might sink to the bottom, or become somethin's dinner, or-"

"Achieve total victory and save a lot of lives! And, more importantly ink!" She decisively finishes. "If the rebels have what I'm worried about, up their sleeve, then they're not going to be afraid to use it! Especially when they're cornered like rats!"

Fero's face grimaces. "Does the Boss know 'bout dis?"

"He will once we pull this off." Tamona dismissively replies.

"Ahh geez..." Fero shakes his head but does not protest.

With Tamona mounting her new steed, she slips on it's back as it nervously whinnies. She mentally slaps herself completely forgetting this is not her seasoned stallion before but a fresh fledgling that's still adjusting to all this. She believes their trudge through the swamp will be the perfect baptism through fire for this fresh meat.

"Alright, boys! Listen up!" Tamona's can feel her lungs expand as her voice echoes far beyond the ranks of her grizzled company. "The rebel remnants we've been sent to mop up are nothing but peasants, antsy villagers, people who get off on the wet dreams preached by a false prince and traitor fancypantses! I know this job is not a glamorous and epic as our last battle, but the empire pays well for a job well done, so a job well done we'll give them and then some!"

A fiery cheer choruses from the ranks, encouraging Tamona to continue.

"But like any cornered rat, the scum will fight dirty, eager to use every trick in the book! Which means they'll likely unleash sticks that pop balls of flames upon us along with sharp sticks and arrows. I know you boys think these weapons clumsy and slow, spectacles than actual weapons, until you are hit by them! Trust me when I say you do not wanna be on the receiving end of these monsters!" She then aims her finger towards their intended path. "So, with the Commander's blessing and order, we'll be doing the sensible thing and run down the scum before they least expect it!"

The enthusiastic cries of her men serve as the remedy to boost Tamona's confidence. Such unanimous backing will be crucial for the trial ahead. She tries to brush off Fero's concerned sideway glances, hoping the thrill of battle will eventually change his already sour mood.

"So, steel your guts, boys! 'Cause the swamp's eager to give us a warm welcome! But don't get too comfortable, because, before we know it, we'll be drenching ourselves in the blood of the rebel rats!"

The third climatic cry invigorates Tamona's spirits as she readies herself for the journey ahead.

As she leads her company towards the swamp, the fringes of her thoughts fantasize about her future feats and accomplishments being recorded in the annals of history. Of how a daring and decisive lieutenant became the main event of the show while her cautious dull commander was ruined for a foolish frontal assault. A vein and far-fetch thought, but one she quietly takes pride in.

After all, there's a chance it might happen.