205 Failed Ambition (1/2)
For hours, Pacha's hand had grasped his axe and his eyes had been focused towards his enemies, towards the east. However, there was no more strength in either. Even though the southerners had already disappeared across the hills and begun their march back home, the hero king still couldn't pull his eyes away from the leftovers of the little wall that had held them off for so long.
”King Pachacutec.” All this time, his attendant had quietly stayed by his side, but now he had decided to interrupt.
”What?” the king barked back. Just as he spoke, careful steps in the snow informed him of the arrival of a second servant, but he was still unhappy.
”What do you want?” he asked the newcomer who had come from across the hill. ”Speak.”
”This servant is here to report, King Pachacutec. The battlefield has been cleaned up,” the servant said with a respectful bow. ”The dead and injured have been dealt with. The men are well-fed and have also rested for a good while.”
”Truly!?” At once, the king's expression returned to life as his face shot over to his surprised attendant. As he realized his overreaction, Pacha coughed to hide the awkward moment. ”This king was lost in thought and did not notice the passage of time. Tell the men to get ready at once! As soon as we have regrouped the army, we are chasing after the southerners! If we move right away, we will still be able to catch them before they reach the border. We do not even need strive for victory. So long as we can slow them down, my uncle will soon arrive with reinforcements, and then we will still have a crucial advantage in numbers.”
After another bow, the servant turned to leave again.
”Don't worry, Corco. This war is long from over.” The king's eyes narrowed as he once again looked at the eastern night sky in the distance. At the end of the battle, the retreat of the southerners had been too fast and too organized. Chasing after them without any intelligence or order of their own would have only cost Pacha countless men, especially after they had already been on the march or in fights for an entire day.
However, now his warriors were rested enough for one final push, or so Pacha thought. His men needed proper sleep rather than just a bit of rest, that much the king knew. But sleep was a luxury they had to go without for a while. Once Pacha had won his war, they could rest as much as they wanted, in this life or the next.
Thoughts of the future reminded Pacha of something important that had slipped his mind in his apathy.
”Wait one moment!” he called back the servant. ”have we properly searched the battlefield?”
”Searched, King? Most of our men are accounted for, so an extensive search effort will not be necessary.”
”No, not for men! For weapons,” the disgruntled king shouted while his eyes scanned the darkened hill. How could his servants have this little sense? ”You put together a team and collect every single firearm left on the battlefield. Even Corco's worthless commoners could put up such stiff resistance with the help of these weapons, imagine what we could do if we were to copy them?”
Of course, ranged weapons would always be considered less honorable by the majority of warriors, except for the few strange archers who were always considered outsiders within the warrior community. However, the king had decided to oppose destiny and didn't have time to consider their feelings. Whatever he could use to strengthen his chances, he would wring it out to the last, tradition be damned.
”Of course, King Pachacutec. This servant will obey.”
Once the warrior had left again to do his duties, Pacha aimed to cross the hill for the first time since the end of the battle. All this time, he had remained rooted on the spot, Corco's final, cocky grin burned into his memories. He had felt inadequate again, like a loser.
Now however, it was time to move again. There was no time to feel sorry for himself; he still had a chance to win the war. As soon as he made the decision, Pacha's steps carried him towards the camp his men had erected. Since he was the only lord with any sense in this army, he would go to the warriors himself, and he would personally help with their reorganization. If they only started to rebuild their army structure once they were on the march, they would be far less efficient in their next big engagement against Corco. That couldn't happen, at any cost.
”Servant number one, tell me about our losses, and about those of the southerners.” Without turning his head, the king knew that his attendant had kept pace with him. After all, he hadn't left the king's side all this time, even when he had just stood still by himself.
After the servant acknowledged the command, he began to list from memory.
”Our preliminary numbers have been counted and they appear quite severe. We have lost around four thousand nine hundred men overall.”
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”What does that mean, 'overall'? How could it be this many?” Pacha's eyes went large in panic. When he had been in the thick of battle, the war had felt quite even. Had they been at this much of a disadvantage?
”The numbers include the dead skirmishers.”
”Why would you include the commoners?” Pacha raged. He had almost had a heart attack at the thought that he might have lost a sixth of his army in his reckless charge up the hill. ”Who cares about the commoners? We have an infinite supply of those back at home. Only tell me about the real losses.”