Prologue: The Revolution

- "He sleeps!" — Bona chants

- "THEY sleep!" — The others answer.

- "We Plight!"

- "We FIGHT!"

That seems to be how most meetings start. The revolutionary chants. 

Comrade Luis, a golden haired blue-eyed young man in intentionally ragged clothes, cuts in to rile up the crowd.

- "We lost territory to the north to the glorious nation of Assima and to the south ruffians, you heard that right! Ruffians, some troublemakers, managed to drive off the defending forces. And most important of all, people barely have anything to eat. And it gets worse and worse every single year."

- "What does the GREAT king do? Nothing! The Dynasty is completely useless. They do nothing! They don't hear the plight of the people, and they certainly don't do anything to fix it! The Complacent Crown must be brought DOWN!"

Well, isn't he someone to talk? 

Anyway, it is hard to argue against it. The Insurrection is barely two years old and already has most of Tous under its rule, not to mention Saloma city. 

We're a siege to the royal palace away from a new rule, and that is precisely the topic today. 

Currently, despite the exclusive presence of only high ranking officers, we sit on the floor of a large tent with some equipment lying around, filled with the distinctive smell of sweaty troops and the palpable breeze of hope and victory. 

After the interruption, Bona, A very tall, strong, black-haired man in a suit of armor, starts explaining the strategies.

- "Their supply lines are being disrupted by our comrade Max. Our mission is to ambush the troops that will be moving from the capital to help defend Fort Emy and the trade routes with Assima. That should be a considerable portion of the Royal Army."

- "Lord Gideon. Lord Chris. We were chosen to do this due to how reliable our command has been. Our tactic will rely on a feint retreat, and then my cavalry will swoop in to break their lines."

There is some unrest and people speaking over one another.  

- "That is disgraceful! And coward!" Lord Gideon interrupts.

He is probably the oldest in the room, and the only one filled with scars, including the one at his eyelid he got at the skirmishes against the ruffians to the south. He served under the king for years and fought alongside Bona's father.

Even though I am new as his right-hand man, I've known him for quite some time. Lord Gideon is maintaining appearances, but is always looking out for the ways to win battles with the least amount of casualties. 

Enemy forces in the Royal Capital are around 20 000. If they sent half of those, we'd still be outnumbered 4-to-1. Even combining with Chris' and Bona's forces, we'd still be 1000 or so men short of them. 

Chris, on the other hand, doesn't seem to be kidding. 

- "Lord Gideon is absolutely correct! You ought to be well aware of my respect for you, Mast … comrade Bona. However, not only is that unnecessarily dishonorable, it is also perilous — The troops often actually do retreat after such maneuvers and, with all due respect, his ranks are~ "

- "I'm sorry? Are you saying my troops aren't up to it? Now we'll have to do it! Let's see whose men will leave with their tails between their legs!"

Even though his words and tone are confrontational, he didn't leave his sit and spouts a sly smile. Chris couldn't resist a challenge, and so the reunion was brought to an end. 

*~~~*

The horn announces that the Royal troops are on their way. Shouldn't be one hour before we clash. 

Some people take that as the signal to get as drunk as possible, I cannot do that anymore since I was promoted to counselor. God — I hate going to battle with my heart trying to jump through my throat, but I guess nothing else to do. I find screaming at the top of my lungs helps a bit once the shields clash, but there is still this interlude. 

Other soldiers gather around an improvised podium. In the absence of a priest, they hear an all-too-familiar speech — while also drinking:

- "We lost territory to the north to the glorious nation of Assima and to the south ruffians, you heard that right! Ruffians, some troublemakers, [...]" 

Hearing those rehearsed words always feels cheesy to me. I guess it is not surprising he got to be one of the leaders of the revolution when you think about it, but whoever met him back in Marília knows he is only a phony. 

"Former Glory this! King of old, Hol Touro that!", nobody cares, man.

The people do get fired up, though, and that might be the only uniting factor here. Looking at the crowd is a bit like seeing oil and water. Chris' troops are highly trained, while our forces are just a bunch of people either inspired by Bona or charmed by Gideon.

Well, I guess there is something else that connects both squads.

*~~~*

Being on the front lines is already tough enough, without drinking, and having to command the troops, is even worse. Hearing the Capital sent almost all of their 20 000 men doesn't help either. It might not sound like anything, but knowing Lord Gideon is also in the exact same situation is quite reassuring. Our commander is with us. 

I can feel the space tightening and the smell of sweat and booze getting stronger as we get closer to the enemy troops, and we start locking into formation and connecting our shields. 

I can see the imperial troops ahead of me, at first they were surprised at our sight and with us advancing and are still unable to get a coherent formation, but they need to get past us. 

They're sober and nervous, I can see a young man tripping while they advance hastily — you'd be surprised how fatal that can be, better survival chances in getting stabbed by a spear. However, somehow, when I see them I can only picture the disgusting King, sitting on his throne while the people struggle. I hear the call:

- "He Sleeps!"

It was so guttural and instinctive that I didn't even realize I was the one screaming. 

- "THEY Sleep!"

The troops promptly correct me. It isn't only the king, all the complacent bunch. It is revolting their  smug demeanor. And what is it for us?

- "We Plight!"

Am I right? No! Again I am corrected.

- "We FIGHT!"

That might be the last intelligible scream I emit. From now on, there are continuous shouts and yells.

My shield is now covering my view, and the guys behind me are covering me with another shield where mine and the ones of my comrades to my sides meet, and holds a long spear where the 3 meet. I can only feel the push from the other side and try to strike at some feet or leg from below. 

It is a gruesome and terrible job. Cannot see anything. Push, and nothing move. Strike someone — They might be crippled or dead, but either way, he is just pushed for a new guy to try to do the same to me. 

Their numbers are overwhelming though, once they are minimally organized on the rear, they try to make a pincer movement and strike our flanks. We might have to feint retreat earlier — Will Bona be ready in time? 

I notice their pushes more substantial and less chaos from their movement. I cannot hear it from Gideon, they're not retreating yet? I have to make the call. 

- "RETREAT!"

I can feel the instant easing of the pushes behind me. The troops are thinning faster than it should, we're supposed to only move backwards. 

Wait? Are they actually running away? 

TSK

This is bad, if too many people run, I'll have to go myself. There will be no line to be held. 

I hear the retreat chants from Gideon's side now, will that crush our chances? 

Even if we run, do I have a chance to live from the front lines?

I can see the pressure from the sides easing as well. 

The line broke to my left, from Gideon's side? Is that it for us? 

I push the shield. And start to run. But circle around to where I see many soldiers actually gathered in concentric circles. 

Close to where the line opened. 

… 

I guess a high ranking officer shouldn't run. I join the formation there. 

I can hear Bona's crew arriving, and that does bring a second wind for many of the previously runaway troops. 

Bona's troops are the elite of the kingdom, the best, and most reliable cavalry. Chris' are not far behind and managed to pull off the strategy perfectly. 

Even with the sloppy execution from our side, the opposing line did break, and we only have to resist a little more to save our own lives. But somehow, something still feels eerie.

"What happened here? Why the shift in the formation?"

"Lord Gideon is down!"

My heart sinks. 

What?