Chapter 40: Hunted

Jack felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up as he heard the roar of airplanes overhead. He craned his head toward the sky, watching the five seaplanes soar through the low-lying clouds on their way to the coast.

They would meet no resistance, despite their tenuous location. For Jack’s mighty armada was now parked off the beaches of the east coast of the main island of Swabia, the island that gave its name to the entire country. It was the same island that held the capital city, Dagobern, in the north, and this invasion was the ultimate culmination of what men in the West were now calling the Fifth Swabian War.

Just to the north, one of Jack’s battleships sent a devastating salvo toward the shore, meant to soften up the landing sites of any enemy activity. It was a bombardment that had been going on for the past hour as all the ships in Jack’s armada answered the call. At this very moment, scores of launch boats beyond calculation were now filling up and setting off, all determined to be the first to set foot on Swabian soil.

It was the largest invasion in the history of the West to that point. Nearly thirty thousand Allied soldiers were crammed onto the decks of Jack’s ships, while another twenty-five thousand awaited transport from the city of Zarah in Picardy.

It was an army that was created for one purpose—the total destruction of the Swabian war machine.

“Opening up a fresh ordnance on the forward turret,” came the voice of Lt. Kyle Abrams of the Destiny. “Firing in three ... two ... one.”

The entire bridge of the ship felt the sudden lurch as the latest salvo went crashing into the cliffs just beyond the beaches. Jack grabbed his binoculars to inspect the landing sites, finding no such signs of enemy activity.

“This whole gamble might just pay off,” he said to Abigail, perched by his side. “We may have caught the Swabians entirely off guard with this invasion site.”

Abigail smiled at him. “Better off than invading Dagobern, I’d say. This should be a quieter action overall, although I can’t say my men are too happy about that. They weren’t bred for such tranquility.”

Jack started to chuckle. “They’ll have their hands full before the end of this, I can assure you that. But there’s no better luck than finding an empty landing site. My only hope is that we can get the majority of the army offloaded and then get the transports back to bring the rest of their comrades. I don’t want to be in Swabia with only half my army.”

“It’s only temporary,” replied Abigail. “By the time the Swabians know what’s going on, we’ll be landing the second wave. We won’t have to fight a battle with only half the force. They don’t move that fast.”

Jack smirked and looked back toward the shore. If only it could be that easy. He didn’t share Abigail’s premonitions for an easy victory.

The Swabians would find a way to make them bleed somehow. They weren’t feared by the rest of the West for no reason.

Jack was pulled back to reality as Abigail pointed to the beaches. “It looks like the first men are now ashore.”

Indeed they were. It was no surprise to see that the Javan marines were leading the way, much as they had in nearly every other engagement they were in. In fact, if Jack was being honest with himself, the Javan marines were still one of the bedrocks of his power in the West. That was saying a lot because there were only fifteen hundred of them left. Much of their strength had dwindled away in the previous fights, and those that remained were the steadfast veterans of many campaigns.

That they were still willing to fight for him considering their circumstances was equal parts amazing and endearing. Jack recognized that they were amongst the elite of his force but on the other hand, he didn’t want to see their strength drift away to nothing.

Someday, he wanted those remaining veterans to make their way back to Java without having to worry about persecution. While such a notion was still a pipe dream at this stage of his life, it was the only way he would be truly satisfied with a resolution to their predicament.

Behind the Javan marines were the first waves of Galicians, many of them storming these beaches like their forefathers did centuries ago. They came ashore clutching helmets and rifles this time instead of swords and pikes, but their destination would still be the same. For those Galicians in his force, it was a sweet recompense to be leading the way once again—the vanguard against the Swabian threat.

It was only as the first wave secured a beachhead that Jack was alerted to the next approaching wave.

“Look, Jack, there go the tanks,” said Abigail with some amazement.

Indeed, it was a spectacle to behold. The first tanks of Galician manufacture were now treading sand and moving further ashore. In all, there were close to one hundred and fifty tanks, the first creations of Galician industry as guided along by Will Calland. They’d been made to the design of those that once held Daban in Picardy, with a large caliber main gun as well as a machine gun that was perched on the top of the hatch. Their presence would be extremely useful against any Swabian armor they were likely to encounter, and getting them in position around the perimeter was considered essential as the rest of his men came ashore.

It was another three hours later that Jack finally set foot on Swabian soil after several thousand men had already set up a basic perimeter. Jack rode in the same launch boat as Art and Greg, his two preeminent generals for the campaign. As the boat drifted closer to the shoreline, Jack watched the behavior of both generals as it changed into something more apt for a schoolyard.

“I don’t know about you but I’m going to be the first to step foot in Swabia,” said a playful Greg as he moved closer to the bow of the boat.

Art chuckled. “Like hell you will! Of the two of us, I’m older and I’m the one that’s actually Galician. It should be me that’s given the privilege.”

Greg snorted. “Being older just means you’ll be left in the dust when I take off. And we’re all as good as Galician now.”

Art elbowed Greg in the ribs. “If anything, I think the King should be the first one off. Compared to us, he’s the one that actually matters.”

Jack heard where Art was going with that and shook his head firmly. “I don’t matter one bit in this campaign. It’s the generals that will ensure success. I’m just along for the ride.”

Greg and Art looked at each other and then back at Jack, both at a loss for words.

Finally, Jack started to chuckle. “Which means you can both still have at it for the first. Although your soldiers have already beaten both of you by several hours.”

In the end, that didn’t matter anyway. Technically, Greg was the first to touch the sandy shores of Swabia with Art not far behind. The two generals grinned with pride as they planted feet on the soil of their ancient enemy.

The feeling was bittersweet for Jack as he did the same not far behind him. There was no difference in the feeling of Swabian soil, especially when compared to Picardy or Apulia or even Galicia for that matter. While it was sweet to finally bring the war to the enemy, it was bitter in equal respects if only because most of the fighting was still ahead of them.

For many of the men in his army, this would be their final campaign.

Jack let those notions drift through his mind as the three men found the headquarters of the Allied Army, now being established just off the beachhead. For Jack, those headquarters were considerably more spartan than he would have had aboard the Destiny but it was important for him to share the same lodging and hardships as his men. For that reason, he’d chosen to march with the army, disavowing greater comforts alongside the rest of the fleet.

That meant it was back to tents and cots for the majority of the administrative staff. Jack was able to have a single mattress brought in for himself and his wives but that was about the most they could expect for creature comforts. Even still, Kat and Abigail showed no signs that it bothered them, and Jack chalked that up to another reason out of many why their relationship worked the way that it did.

By nightfall that evening, the entirety of the first wave of Jack’s army had been put ashore. Some thirty thousand men now made up a robust beachhead that was now several miles wide along the coast and nearly a mile and a half inland, where the elevation picked up severely.

There was only one direction for them to go—north, following the coast until it eventually turned westward. They would approach Dagobern from the east and surround the city, forcing Emperor Avila to capitulate.

At least that was the plan. In the morning, most of the transports and a good portion of the fleet would leave the landing site and make the jaunt over to Picardy, picking up the remaining men to join their army.

For the next week, Jack would be alone with his forces deep in enemy territory, with only a small naval force to protect their coastal flank.

Despite the seemingly precarious nature of their position, Jack was in good spirits.

“You’re in a very good mood tonight,” noticed Vera as she stopped in Jack’s tent. She would be the last visitor for the evening as most of the headquarters were now settling in for some rest. Abigail was already on their mattress, almost half asleep herself, while Kat was doing what she did best—reading another book she’d borrowed from the Galician Castle library.

“He’s been like this all evening,” said Kat. “I don’t think he was in this great of a mood on the day we got married.”

Jack gave her a funny look. “You can’t be serious?”

Kat started to giggle. “Still, it’s a close comparison!”

Jack turned his attention back to his sister. “What’s not to be happy about? We have a foothold here in the center of Swabian power. There’s no Swabian Army in sight. Our men took almost no casualties in the landing and soon my ships will be off to get the rest of my army. Things are looking up for us.”

Vera nodded and sat down on the mattress. “It is fortuitous how things turned out today. This landing could have been much worse. Greg has been fretting about it nonstop for the last two weeks. Some nights I swear he didn’t come to bed until well after midnight.”

“I know that feeling well,” said Jack as a small yawn slipped out. “We’ve had lots of late nights in planning this operation. Every possible outcome had to be looked at and accounted for. Every time we thought about a new tactic or strategy, we had to readjust our plans. It was exhausting work and with so much riding on this, there’s been a little too many sleepless nights.”

“And it all worked out for the best, right?” said Kat. “We’re here in Swabia. And soon we’ll be in Dagobern.”

Jack didn’t want to answer that question head-on. Judging by the sour expression that soon formed on Kat’s face, she seemed to realize what that meant for them as well. The prophecy that she loved to reference, the one that ordained his fate in the West, held a very ambiguous ending in store for him at the end of it.

Capturing Dagobern could very well put an end to the war. It could also put an end to Jack’s life if the prophecy was taken literally.

It was something that he was starting to dwell on more and more as the war progressed. Eventually, it would come to an end, and this landing could very well mean that the ending was in sight.

Would Jack have to give the final sacrifice just to ensure victory?

Thankfully, Vera didn’t dwell on the subject. She pivoted to look at their invasion from another angle.

“You sound so confident about being in Dagobern soon,” she noted. “What if things don’t go exactly the way you planned them?”

“What do you mean, Vera?” asked Jack.

His sister shrugged, causing her blonde hair to dance. “I’m just asking what happens if the Swabians put up more resistance than you think? What happens if they block you from Dagobern?”

“We’ll just have to defeat them then,” said Jack simply. “We know the Swabians aren’t just going to let us march in and take their capital city. Sooner or later, we’re going to have to fight them. And we need to win or else this campaign can all be for naught. But when they stand in our way, a fight is going to happen.”

“And it’s a fight you believe you’re going to win?” pressed Vera.

It was Jack’s turn to shrug. “Why not? We haven’t let them crush us yet. And not to be too pretentious, but we now know what the prophecy says we’re here to do. Sooner or later, we have to win, right?”

Surprisingly, Kat actually shook her head. “Not necessarily, Jack.”

He could only blink in surprise. “Wait, what?”

“Jack, the prophecy that we follow, the one that predicted your arrival and what you would do, it isn’t the only prophecy in the world,” said Kat quietly.

“Wait a second,” said Jack. “You mean there are other prophecies? Other prophecies about me? Or about this war? You need to go into more depth.”

“Hold on, I can show you something,” said Kat as she closed her book and went rummaging in her things. She pulled out her small notebook, the same one that contained the passages regarding his own prophecy, and she started flipping around.

Finally, she found what she was looking for.

“Here it is,” she said as she pointed to a passage. She held it over to Vera and Jack. Meanwhile, all the activity had caught Abigail’s attention and she was now sitting upright in bed watching the whole thing unfold.

Jack stared at the passage and soon began to shake his head. “What language is this? I can’t make out a single word.”

“It’s Old Swabian,” answered Kat. “That passage in front of you is nearly fifteen hundred years old, back when the entire Swabian entity was only relegated to the island we’re standing on. But to answer your question, Jack, Galicia hasn’t been the only place in the world to produce prophecies. The Swabians have their own prophecies as well, including ones that predict a world of Swabian domination.”

“What does that even look like?” asked Vera. “What’s the translation of this text? Is it aligned around a certain person?”

“Not so much a certain person but more so around a single strong ruler,” said Kat. “A ruler that’s strong enough to take over the entire West with their power. Let me explain a little more about this so that it makes sense and you might understand a little more why the Swabians are the way that they are. You see, Swabian political life revolves completely around their emperor.”

“No doubts about that,” said Jack. “Despite their setbacks, Avila seems to have complete control over the country.”

“And the emperor always will, at least in Swabia,” replied Kat. “It’s always been this way. The leader of Swabia will always have complete power over his subjects. And their subjects will always respect the emperor as the sole arbiter of power. There may be usurpers that come along every once in a while but even they can’t deny that holding the throne is the ultimate goal.”

“Makes sense so far to me,” said Jack. “Keep going.”

“Just as every emperor that holds the throne is ambitious due to the nature of getting to the peak position of power, every emperor is also obsessed with being the best Swabian emperor. What that means to them is the one that brings Swabia the most prestige and the most conquests, whether that be in slaves or gold. The reason why every emperor is obsessed with that notion is because of this prophecy in front of me.”

Kat began to trace her fingers over the lines of the Old Swabian prophecy. “This line calls out a strong emperor, one who has taken the throne with great bloodshed and temerity. The next line calls out all the vassals—the other lords of Swabia—kneeling before him and accepting his sovereignty. It continues on for a few more lines with this most powerful emperor taking control but then this next paragraph deals with the most damning portion of the entire prophecy.”

“What would that be?” asked Abigail, now showing interest as well.

“The war against the rest of the countries of the West,” answered Kat. “Think about it this way—there’s a reason why there’s now been five Swabian wars. You would think they’d learned their lesson after the first or second but it’s not within their nature to ignore what fate has commanded them to do. It’s why the Swabians will always lash out in all directions. They believe they were truly meant to rule over the entire West and they will accept nothing less than total conquest.”

“What do they get as a reward for doing so?” asked Jack. “There must be a reason other than just being lord of the entire West. What is it?”

“The usual rewards—gold, land, women,” said Kat. “The Swabian mind isn’t too complicated in that regard. Power is a reward unto itself, and the rest of those items are secondary but this is the reason why they keep pushing outside their borders. And they are likely to keep pushing until they finally achieve their goals.”

“Why would this be the first time I’m hearing about this though?” asked Jack. “You would think this guiding prophecy would be talked about more often then, especially if it’s responsible for so many devastating conflicts in the last two millennia.”

Kat shrugged. “I’m not sure if I have an answer to that, Jack. I don’t know how closely the Swabians dictate their own actions as a response to prophecy. It could just as well be that they’ve internalized the aggression as part of their natural character, completely outside of the prophecy.”

“So they wouldn’t even know they’re following it,” said Vera. “To them, they are just doing what comes natural—being aggressive against their neighbors.”

“Exactly,” replied Kat. “And in every other conflict, they’ve been held in check. Although if you wanted to look at this from the other side, Avila could be the emperor who is strong enough to fulfill their prophecy. I know it’s a terrible thing to suggest but it would be in accordance with their own prophecy.”

That suggestion left the room silent. Jack looked from Abigail to Vera and finally back to Kat before he was able to conjure a response.

“That’s hardly comforting,” he muttered.

Kat closed her notebook. “I’m not trying to be a downer tonight, especially when things are going so well. I just wanted you to know that there are other prophecies out there but how true they are, we cannot know. Galicians have typically put much more faith in our prophecies than the Swabians have, who have little room for that which they can’t see or feel. The words of this prophecy were smuggled out of Swabia centuries ago and we’ve monitored it ever since. Even so, there’s no reason to believe that our central prophecy won’t come true.”

“Although there’s a chance that it won’t,” said Vera.

Kat shrugged. “We don’t know that. Every passage in here, we can link back to Jack in some fashion and the things he’s done. If you’re asking me what I truly believe, it’s that our prophecy is right and theirs is wrong. Am I biased? Of course. But then again, is there any room for thinking we might be wrong? The consequences of such a notion could be terrible.”

“And it’s even more than I want to think about right now,” said Jack as he put his fingers in his eyes. “And that’s about as much prophecy talk that I can handle for one night.”

Kat moved closer and started to rub his back. “I’m sorry, love. For what it’s worth, I don’t believe the Swabians will win. I believe that you will triumph like you’re meant to do.”

“And lose my life in the process,” murmured Jack, causing severe reactions from each woman.

Kat let out an excitable yelp while Vera avoided his eyes. Abigail put her hand over her mouth.

“You don’t really believe that, do you, Jack?” asked Vera.

Jack shrugged. “What can we believe now? I’m tired of talking about prophecies. Let’s just forget that we heard about the Swabian one for now. We have a campaign to run.”

Jack didn’t wait for a response. He soon pushed out of his tent, leaving the three women to themselves. It wasn’t that he was upset with them in any shape or form. Rather, he wanted a moment of peace. The sky was shimmering with the light of thousands of stars, and Jack couldn’t help but stare at them and ponder his own fate. He seemed damned no matter what happened in this campaign. Either the Swabians would win the war, and his life would be seemingly forfeit in the process. Or they would win and the consequence would mean Jack’s death as the price for victory.

Neither option gave him life at the end of the conflict.

Jack let out a deep sigh as he crossed his arms. Sooner or later, he would be faced with the end results of the war. And he would find out which prophecy was correct.

And he just hoped that he could stay alive in the process.

There was someone else that he wished he could keep alive—a small family of five that deserved life more than anyone.

At that moment, Jack wondered how Thomas was making out with his separate mission.

Across the ocean, Lt. Commander Thomas Wentz of the destroyer Stingray inched ever closer to the country of his birth. That country was Java and his entire crew, as well as himself, was of Javan descent. Yet despite flying the Javan dragon flag from the stern of the ship, the loyalty of the destroyer didn’t lay with its home country.

No, Thomas was one of Jack’s men. Those brave few that had forsaken their homeland in the quest to do the right thing. That meant that Thomas and his men turned their backs on Java and agreed to keep fighting with Jack, especially as he became more than just an ordinary Javan officer.

If he was being honest with himself, Thomas still had doubts about his path, especially late at night when the only sounds that could be heard were the creaking of the ship. It was a tough pill to swallow to become a turncoat to one’s own country and to seemingly abandon everything and everyone that he knew. At times, Thomas was amazed that most of his crew went with him as well, only losing a few men to detention—those that wouldn’t fight against their former homes.

Oftentimes, Thomas asked himself why he chose to fight for one man instead of his country. The money was never an issue. The moment that they were cut off from Java, Thomas’ salary and those of his crew were taken over as an obligation by Jack, and he’d never missed a payment.

Pride was often a factor. In recent years, the Javan Empire had done little to instill pride in their own people, even with the wars going on. It had become harder to take heart in the notion of being Javan, but that wasn’t the reason why Thomas went over to Jack.

The answer, in all truthfulness, was that Thomas believed in Jack’s cause. He believed that Jack was meant to come to the West and to be the king the Galicians were looking for. He believed that the Swabians needed to be stopped and that Jack’s alliance was the only power capable of doing just that.

Thomas also believed that this was the right course—the most moral course—and that it superseded any petty squabbles that the Javans were currently engaged in.

Of course, that was cutting to the heart of the matter. Thomas believed that Jack could and would win this conflict. An eternal optimist, Thomas had every faith that this war could be ended, and one day, maybe not a year from now, maybe not five, he would eventually be able to go home without being called a traitor.

That day wasn’t today though, and Thomas felt a severe pining of anxiety as they neared the Javan coast. The reason was because they were aiming for subterfuge against their home country—all part of a secret mission that he’d been tasked with before he left the West.

“You are to use any means at your disposal,” advised General Greg Vaughn, a Javan like himself, as Thomas was briefed on the mission. “That includes feigned deception. Make the Javan government think you intend to surrender your ship but carry on your mission in the process. Then, when you locate your target, you are to immediately abscond from the area and return to the West with all possible speed.”

“And the target?” asked Thomas. “What am I looking for?”

Greg shook his head. “Not what. Who.”

That was when Thomas learned that the people he was looking for were none other than Jack Kincardine’s adoptive family, those that were still living. That target centered around Jack’s sister, Jocelyn Hutton, a married woman with three children in her mid-thirties.

The reason for the mission became obvious at that point. It wasn’t a secret that there existed an enmity between Jack and Emperor Bancroft, fueled by their ambitions and divergent life choices. The entire force knew that Jack had almost been assassinated back in Picardy on the orders of an assassin directly from Java. Bancroft’s fingerprints were all over the deal, and there was little doubt that another would eventually show up.

There was another distinct possibility as well. If Bancroft failed to reach Jack, there was always the chance he could act against someone he could reach. Jocelyn and her family were Jack’s only living relatives under Bancroft’s thumb, and the threat against them became too dangerous to ignore.

“I don’t need to remind you how important these people are,” said Greg at the end of the briefing. “This is Jack’s family. There’s no telling what Bancroft might do to them if he thinks to act against them. Getting them out of Java is the most important task at hand right now, and that’s why Jack authorizes any plan that you deem fit to accomplish that task.”

With those words in mind, Thomas set out across the great ocean on a course back to his home country. The Stingray made good time as she cut through the waves, and it would only be another day or two before they neared Belfort. The plan was already set in motion for what they would do once they arrived, but that didn’t mean that Thomas didn’t want to have a briefing with his officers that morning to make sure everyone was on the same page.

There wasn’t any room for mistakes on a mission so perilous.

For that reason, Thomas gathered all the bridge officers of the Stingray into a small meeting room not far from his personal quarters. Thomas trusted his bridge officers implicitly, not only for their skill, but also due to the fact that he’d been serving with them for a long time.

First was the head of operations division, Lt. Lizzy Mueller. Lizzy was a longtime friend ever since they met back in the Academy. She was one of the coolest operators that Thomas knew, and he couldn’t remember a time when he ever saw Lizzy flustered in the course of their work. Her cool head and knowledge made her one of the mainstays of his team.

Next was the head of engineering division, Lt. Van Sarcur. Van was a man of relatively few words, which wasn’t that surprising seeing as he was Thessalian by birth. Van was as intelligent as Lizzy was calm, and more importantly, there wasn’t anything that happened on the Stingray that Van didn’t know about. He was one that operated behind the curtains, keeping the ship in good order and making it look effortless in the process.

The last bridge officer was the one that Thomas knew the longest. That was because Lt. Cash Wentz was his brother. The two of them had grown up in the mountainous area that ran through the middle of the Javan continent, separating Java proper from Thessaly. Both brothers hadn’t so much as seen a body of water larger than a pond before they enlisted at the Academy, but that didn’t stop them from excelling at their studies. Cash was just as equally capable as Thomas was, and the fact that they didn’t share the same rank was up for debate, especially with Cash.

If you listened to Cash tell it, it was because he wasn’t as big of a kiss-ass as his brother was, and that was the reason he was still a lieutenant. However, Thomas knew the real reason. Where Thomas was ever the eternal optimist, Cash was the complete opposite.

He seemed to look for the bad in everything he did. That pessimism didn’t endear him to his fellow officers or superiors, and despite his excellent abilities, he was stuck as a lieutenant for the time being.

Thomas knew how to handle this brother though, and that was part of the reason why he requested the transfer of Cash to the Stingray, where he could keep an eye on him. Out of sight and mind as the head of weapons division, Cash couldn’t piss off their superiors while he was under Thomas’ watchful eye.

He could still piss off Thomas though, but Thomas considered that as part of the territory of having a brother.

“This meeting again?” asked Cash as he arrived in the room, the last of all the officers. “I thought we were all lock-step on this already?”

Thomas resisted rolling his eyes at his brother. “Now that we’ve almost arrived, I want to make sure that everyone is aware of our plans. There’s a lot riding on this and lots of ways for this to go awry. In other words, brother, have a seat.”

Cash knew better than to grumble but he took his seat right next to Lizzy, allowing Thomas to begin the meeting.