"Your Majesty, a large Cantagenan contingent, estimated to be around fifteen thousand strong is heading straight towards us." A scout cavalry informed Amenheraft.
Although this report was largely redundant.
Because such a large force assembling so near was impossible to miss.
Even if they were asleep, just the sheer noise of all those people marching and singing together would have probably woken them up.
"Looks like you were right, Manuk. Hehe, the bait just looked that delicious, huh Agapios? Hearing his scout's report, Amenheratf let out a small chuckle as he taunted Agapios, still unaware of the latter's demise.
Agapios had always been a thorn in Adhania's eyes.
Though Cantagena was a naval superpower, with its sailors regarded as being the best of the best and only matched by the Sybarsis, in contrast, Cantagena's land forces were just above average, a far cry from the absolute elites wielded by the likes of Exolas and Adhania.
And unlike the latter two's army made up of mostly loyal, professional soldiers supplemented by conscripts, Cantagena's army was made up of mostly conscripts and mercenaries, supplemented by a professional core.
But even with such a mismatch of quality of forces, it was the genius of Agapios that enabled Cantagena and her allies to hold off the combined aggression of Exolas and Adhania for so many years.
As such, to be able to trick one of the greatest military commanders of his times not once but twice caused the king to be very pleased.
"It seems the old lion is really desperate. If he wasn't at the end of his ropes, he would certainly not have launched such a risky attack at the dawn of dusk." Manuk replied with a pleased, knowing smile.
The words 'desperate' and 'at the end of his ropes' had double meanings here that few around them could understand.
It did not only refer to the battlefield situation right in front of them but also to the situation back home.
Manuk knew that depending on how the battle went for Agapios, it would positively or adversely affect his illegitimate daughter, Ophenia, back home.
A daughter graciously gifted by Adhania to the general on that fateful night twenty years ago.
But unaware of all the complex web of intrigue, the captain of the royal guards from the sides said, "His soldiers must be at the end of their ropes with the long march, yet he dares to attack so soon. The lion has turned into a senile old cough, cough."
But before he could finish mocking the enemy, suddenly he let out a series of ear-splitting coughs.
"Brother…," Seeing his elder brother cough up blood, Manuk rushed to hold him in panic.
"I am okay, I am okay, Something just got caught in my, cough, cough." Beihrut tried to play it off as nothing.
"Beihrut, Manuk and Kefka can take it from here. You have contributed greatly to the defense of Adhan. Now, go rest." Amenheraft witnessing his royal guard captain's pale face asked him to retire in concern.
"How can the captain of the royal guards leave to rest for himself when his king in the battlefield?" Beihrut loudly claimed, visibly offended at the idea of leaving his king alone.
He declared, "I will leave your side when I am dead."
Knowing the man since childhood, Amenheraft understood he had made his decision and arguing any longer would be a practice in futility.
He was called the 'Mad royal dog' for a reason after all.
So he simply consented, "Okay, you can stay. But only next to me. You are not allowed to fight in a battle nor command it. Just rest here. We will camp soon and you can rest then."
Receiving the command, Beihrut simply sat atop his horse, sulking.
He felt the king was being unnecessarily careful.
He had been injured before and recovered just the same.
And he will damn sure recover from this one as well.
But what Amenheraft, Manuk, Beihrut, or anyone else in the camp failed to notice, all being absorbed in their work, was that Beihrut's face was rapidly becoming pale and he was running a raging fever.
Usually, even with the kind of injury he took, the strong as a bull man should have been able to easily recover.
So the question was, why was his situation deteriorating?
Seeing the battlefield develop just as Manuk predicted, Amenheraft decided."Manuk, you go take personal control of the battle from Kefka. This was your plan and you should be the one to execute it."
"Thank you, Your Highness. Please wait for my triumphant return." Manuk quickly thanked and then turned his horse.
"Wait." Suddenly Amenheraft's concerned voice rang out from behind. "The report said ten thousand troops, but by our estimates, it should be twenty thousand. Be careful of any last tricks that old lion might have." He cautioned.
"*Nod*, I will keep it in mind, Your Majesty." Reassuring the king for the second time, he quickly rode off.
"March straight ahead and as quickly as possible." Samaras gave the simplest command possible, knowing that following complex orders would be impossible for soldiers in the dark.
"Hahhh." Came the collective cheer.
In this marching formation, in one phalanx of no particular specialty were about a hundred very special people.
Yes, there they were, Nestoras, Xanthine, Romeus, and co.
Because they were too few to form their own unit, they were put in another rag-tag phalanx led by Rigias's mercenary group.
This mercenary leader had chosen to heed Samaras's call at the last moment.
As the army waded through the knee-deep mud to engage the enemy, Samaras kept barking at them to walk faster.
It seemed no matter how fast they moved their two feet, it was never fast enough for the new general.
Though, in all due fairness, Samaras could not really be faulted for his haste.
Dusk was dawning fast and he wanted to engage the enemy before the light faded.
Also, just before the cauldron became sealed he sent runners inside it to ask the soldiers trapped inside to resist and fight and not surrender, promising them they would be relieved before dusk.
He made the oath by the names of the gods and he had to keep it.
"If it wasn't for that rumor, I would have had more time." Samaras cursed and cursed the same words inside his mind.
Though, this was in fact true.
They had wasted a lot of time convincing and even forcing soldiers to join the offensive, which severely put them behind schedule, which led them to this brutal forced march and made the already exhausted soldiers even more tired.
"Will these men be able to even lift their spears once we meet the enemy?" This thought ran across Damious's mind after looking at the dead-eyed, panting, exhausted faces of the marching soldiers.
It seemed that a stiff breeze would knock them over.
And Damious wasn't the only one to notice this.
Almost all the captains sensed this.
But they were all also aware of the reality and hence were forced to accept the situation.
They had no choice but to march at full speed in such treacherous terrain, expending enormous stamina to meet the enemy, just to have a chance at winning.
As they were approaching to clash with the enemy, suddenly a horrifying thought crept into Samaras's mind, "What if there's an ambush waiting for us just like last time?"
This single thought shook him to the core and he rushed to Damious, "Damious, there might be an ambush waiting for us. I want you to send two thousand soldiers from each flank into the woods to check for any."
"What? What ambushes? All the slingers are here engaging in melee." Damious asked incredulously.
"We fell into a trap before because we didn't scout properly. Do you want to do it again? Do you know if all the soldiers were used to make the cauldron? Adhania could hide fifteen thousand soldiers once, they can do it again." Samaras made a dark prediction.
He was somehow in his mind convinced there was a second ambush waiting for him.
After all, if it works one time, why can't it work a second time?
"Why are you saying it now? What's the use? We already gave them the commands." Damious argued, reluctant to issue completely new commands when they were so close to the enemy.
"I forgot about it okay." Samaras frankly admitted. " I was too busy and I have never led an army before and it just slipped my mind."
"If you had forgotten it, It would have been better if it had stayed forgotten." Damious spat out in exasperation, though he was more mad at himself than Samaras.
"Dammit, how could such a simple tactic slip my mind. My brain must have been eaten by dung worms." He cursed himself.
Though in his defense, hunger, fatigue, and sleep deprivation were not known to produce the best-thinking minds.
Both his and Samaras's thinking capabilities had been severely degraded over the last two days and it was showing itself here.
Disaster!