Chain of Command

[Hey! Wake up!] Silane yelled out.

Kothar shook himself awake, pulling hard on the reins, stopping short from plunging off the edge of a steep river bank. Two days of non-stop riding were beginning to take their toll, and he had fallen asleep in the saddle.

His horse may have been fine after taking the leap into the dried up river bed below, but he would've taken quite the tumble. The territory of the Southern Tribes was crisscrossed with these riverbeds, some had a trickle of water flowing through the bottom, while others still flowed strong enough that there were makeshift bridges of stone laid across them.

Kothar carefully steered his horse down the side of the bank, the dry red dirt crumbling away in thick clods.

[Set up camp and rest for a day Kothar, if you keep pushing yourself at this rate you'll send yourself galloping into a tree or worse, and there won't be anyone to deliver Rotan's message to Newport.] Silane advised Kothar, showing him that at his pace he could still outpace the Phintus Army's arrival at Balin.

[Okay, that tent Jonas packed will get some use after all.] Kothar looked around the featureless landscape for somewhere that might be suitable for a campsite. Unlike the rolling plains of Ursten, the dry grasslands of the Southern Tribes rarely varied in its topography.

[I guess right here is as good as it gets.] Kothar dismounted his horse, his legs seizing up after so many hours in the saddle. He hobbled over to the saddlebags and removed them from the horse, removing the bedroll and tent as well. Within a short while, Kothar had set up a small but comfortable camp, and his horse munched from a feedbag, enjoying the break from a saddle on its back.

The soft glow of the sunset lit the small camp with a cozy glow. Kothar settled into his bedroll, and fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

Far to the northwest, tensions were rising in the Ursten army's camp. A pair of voices were yelling in the makeshift headquarters, each trying to drown the other out.

"You! How dare you? An exile, interfering with the chain of command in my troop!" Leynish yelled, his mustache askew, each side pointing off in a random direction, while his normally pale face was flushed with rage.

"Chain of command? I could fart out more intelligent commands than you give!" Simon guffawed as he mocked Leynish, as the baron grew more enraged.

"I saw an opportunity for ambush, and if you hadn't ruined it all, we would be at an advantage right now!" Leynish's voice grew even louder, if that was possible, Flecks of his spit sprayed the room.

"You were leading your men on a suicide mission, what else did you expect me to do? Watch as you all rode to your certain death?" Simon yelled back, a faint smirk on his face, as if he was enjoying the argument.

"You would, wouldn't you! You goddamn traitor, no wonder you were banished! How in the world his majesty decided to trust lowborn, foreign scum like you for so long astounds me!" Leynish only grew more enraged at seeing Simon smiling in his face, and reached for the hilt of his shortsword.

"Stop. Right. There." Tam's voice, cold as ice, sliced through the room. An invisible pressure descended, and Leynish froze, sweat beading his forehead.

"Ah, excuse me General, no offense to your wife at all. Lady Ophil is a veritable flower, a gem amongst the dirt of Newport. I meant no disrespect to her." An empty look appeared in Baron Leynish's eyes, and he began to nervously rub his hands together.

"While that was offensive, that wasn't the issue. The two of you can yell at each other all you want, call each other names, curse each other, I don't give a damn. But never, never draw your blade against a fellow soldier of Ursten." Tam leant forward as he drew out each word slowly, staring Leynish down as he spoke.

"But General, technically he is banished, so he would not be consi-" Leynish began to mutter in protest.

"My word is final. I'll have no more insubordination from you, or I'll have you stripped of your command. Understood?" Tam continued to stare at Leynish, as if daring him to say another word.

The Baron Leynish, clad in the fine armor made of the great Stone Wyrm he had slain as a young man, only nodded in agreement, and slouched out of the barracks.

"What were you thinking? Did you expect that to go any other way? You know that few of these nobles have seen real combat, and the slightest challenge to their manhood sets them afire." Tam said in an exasperated voice to Simon, who was nonchalantly examining an earthenware pot left behind by the previous occupants of the building.

"Turned out a lot better than it could have, we still have our only scout troop until reinforcements arrive, and one of our precious nobles isn't dead." Simon spoke matter-of-factly to Tam.

"There was no need to call him a 'pea-brained-idiot' in front of his men, though, was there?" Tam asked, struggling not to laugh at imagining how Leynish must have looked while hearing that.

"No, but I figured I was polite enough in saving his a***. Besides, those men know he's a fool, they all served his father, and he was a fine commander." Simon said defensively.

"I can see this isn't going to go anywhere. How about staying out of his sight for the time being, get me some real intel on what's going on at the Kalun encampment while you're at it."

Tam watched as Simon paced around the room, clearly still agitated.

"Alright, sorry Tam. I can't stand some of these smug idiots, Rotan knew they were ready to throw their lot in with Kultas the moment he beat you, but I'm the one he banishes?" Simon shook his head in disgust.

Tam remained silent, as memories of a younger Kultas, bright, optimistic, not yet jaded by years of war, came unbidden to him.

"Didn't mean to rub a sore spot Tam, I'll see myself out." Simon left, through the door this time, briskly heading off towards the Knaul camp.

"Who would've thought?" Tam muttered to himself, reminiscing of days when he and Kultas had ridden together, with the Hawk Brigade.

Kothar woke only after a few hours. The sky was completely dark, but the moon was shining and lit up the savannah with a cold light. Kothar packed up his small camp with a new energy, the short sleep had done wonders for him.

His horse was rearing to go, it set off at an easy gallop, with no urging from Kothar. While it had gotten the opportunity to run far and fast in its life. Its genetics called for it to run on and on, and the plains awakened something in it, and it sped across the landscape.

[We've headed far enough South, we should bear southeast from now on.] Silane informed Kothar, after they had ridden through much of the night and the sun began to peek out behind the sparse clouds that lay along the horizon.

Kothar didn't respond, rather he gave the reins a slight touch, and the horse immediately responded. He was growing to enjoy riding such a magnificent beast, and it reminded him of the creatures he had often played with as a child, in the biomes that had been his playground and his classroom.

Kothar drank in the wide open spaces of the savannah and breathed in deeply, enjoying the crisp cool air of the early morning. He had seen his fair share of beautiful planets on his many missions in his previous life, but had he visited Eclat, it still would've been remarkable in its own right. The distances he had covered were typically a quarter of a continent, but Avn' Dur had said he was on a mere island.

A cloud of rapidly moving dust on the horizon stirred him from his thoughts. He steered his horse away from it, intending to avoid whatever it was, but even as he spurred his horse on and veered away, the cloud turned to follow.

There were no valleys or forests to hide here, and not wanting to tire his horse out unnecessarily, he decided top steer towards it for a close look.

As he drew closer, and the cloud sped towards him, he saw that it was a lone rider on a tall, tan colored horse, with a group of horses on leads all in tow. The rider was dressed in colorful patchwork quilted armor, and wore a tall helm that was draped in a white cloth, presumably to keep the heat off.

"Rhuey!" A high pitched voice called out.

[Initiating translation. I believe the rider wants you to stop.] Silane said in the robotic voice she used when carrying out automatic funtions.

[I think I gathered that, thanks for the help though, Silane.]

Kothar drew to a stop, and the rider gradually slowed to a stop nearby him.