Chapter 46: Recovery

Jack’s fortunes in Picardy had reached a disappointing nadir.

Not only was a good portion of his army and air force wrecked because of the storm that passed through the country the previous day, but now he had a new (and more deadly) problem on his hands.

The rest of his allies—led primarily by Aedan and Reina—were now refusing to fight alongside the Swabians. The great coalition that had been assembled back in Kalmar was now threatening to fall apart before it saw any action.

There had never been a more perilous time in the history of the coalition. Not even during the darkest days of the Swabian campaign had Jack felt the struggle just for the existence of the alliance.

There was no multi-nation coalition with just the Swabians.

This war against Bancroft had to be pursued with the combined resources of all of them. Without a united response, they were doomed to fail.

So then how could he get Aedan and Reina to rejoin the fray? How could he convince them that the Swabians hadn’t sabotaged the hangars before the storm, thereby leading to the destruction of nearly sixty aircraft?

And how would he convince his army that the Swabians were joint partners in this whole affair? It wasn’t just the leaders of the alliance that still had doubt; it was also the soldiers in uniform who still treated the Swabians with suspicion. Jack had plenty of reports in the last week about fights that had broken out between the Swabians and the rest of the allies. Most of them, surprisingly, had been instigated by the other members of the Allies. Though the Swabians weren’t entirely blameless, they were taking a brutal hazing at being the newest members of the alliance, and Jack was worried his great venture might fail before it even got off the ground.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t tend to those old scars before he dealt with the new wounds that appeared after the storm. That meant it was truly all hands on deck as the army and the citizens of Zarah looked to recover after the devastating destruction.

At least here, the army was hard at work clearing the damage. Jack instructed Greg and Lindy to break out the men into smaller groups to help block by block, cleaning the city one street at a time. A section outside city limits had been designated for all waste disposal, and so far platoons of soldiers could be seen going through the damage and pitching in to help the people rebuild.

What was most heartening about the work going on in the city was watching the army work together. Men of many different backgrounds—Galicians, Apulians, Picards—were all working together to help rebuild the shattered city. In a very strange way, they were becoming closer as an army. Men that were used to fighting within their own units were getting a chance to work with their Western brethren, and they were all better off for it.

It also helped to foster their sense of camaraderie. It became much easier to go to war to face a threat against the Galicians when you could count on several friends in the Galician camp. It also became easier to trust the Picards and the Apulians when you’d both overcome hardship together.

If only it would be so easy for all of them to accept the Swabians, Jack wouldn’t have nearly as much trouble in keeping the alliance together.

It was that thought in particular that gave him an idea. One that he would dwell on for some time but an idea that showed an exceptional amount of promise.

Unfortunately, that idea would have to wait for the time being.

Greg found him in the midst of the chaos and he looked none too pleased to have to deliver the news on the tip of his tongue.

“Jack, I’m hearing some disturbing reports from the Allied camp,” started Greg as he took a moment to wipe some sweat from his brow. “Supposedly, Aedan won’t fight with the Swabians anymore? He believes they’ve sabotaged our airplanes?”

“Our hangars at the airfield have completely collapsed in the storm,” said Jack. “I’ve ordered an investigation into what happened to them but Aedan believes they were sabotaged by the Swabians since their camp is directly adjacent to it. Needless to say, Aedan had one of his typical shit-fits and here we are. He’s refusing to fight unless the Swabians are discharged from the alliance within twenty-four hours.”

Greg let out a low whistle. “That son of a bitch. After all we’ve done for him, why is it that he seems to forget his place every few weeks? The man needs constant reminders of which side his bread is buttered.”

“He’s histrionic,” said Jack dryly. “We’ve always known this but I have to say that this just doesn’t look great on the Swabians. I have a meeting with Ambros later to discuss it more. Not that I’m saying I believe them to have a role in this. It’s just way too convenient that they were next to the airfield. It makes it too easy for Aedan to point the finger.”

“Do you need anything from me, Jack? Any way I can help us out here?”

Jack nodded. “I’m glad you asked. I need you to do what you can to keep the other leading generals in the fray. I have no doubt that Aedan will seek to get the word out to the other allies about what he thinks happened. We’re going to need to go into damage control. I want you to first seek out General Neil Fagan. As the leader of the Picard Army, it’s crucial that he understands the true story of what happened. From there, spread out and get the leaders of the biggest nations. Make sure to let them know that we’re on top of this but we believe the Swabians had nothing to do with this.”

“I’m on it, Jack. I know where Neil can be found at this time of morning, so I’ll visit him first,” promised Greg as he made a step in the opposite direction.

“Hang on just a second, Greg. I’m hoping that we can have a meeting to set a compromise between Aedan and Ambros at some point in the next few days. Something to get us all on the same page.”

Greg raised an eyebrow. “In the next few days? So not in the next twenty-four hours like Aedan wants?”

Jack sighed and shook his head. “Aedan’s not in charge here. I am. I’ll send him a message that he still needs to acknowledge my position as overlord and that I’m dedicated to getting to the bottom of this but Aedan does bring up a good point in the heart of his message.”

“What point is that?”

“The fact that the Swabians are being treated like second-class soldiers in this army,” replied Jack. “There’s mistrust on both sides, and as long as that mistrust is allowed to fester, we’ll never have a united army that’s capable of standing up to Bancroft. We need to find a way to integrate the Swabians more closely into the army. That’s where I’m going to need your help.”

“Integrate them?” asked Greg. “How do you plan to do that?”

Jack let out a grin. “That’s why I’m asking you. I need your help in doing that. I’m thinking of something unprecedented. Truthfully, the idea just occurred to me right before you showed up but I’m wanting to mix the units up. Do training at the lowest levels where we can truly have Galician squads training alongside Swabian squads. Same with platoons but keeping it to the lower levels. I want them intermingling so that they can see that the Swabians aren’t the devils everyone thinks. Perhaps if we can show Aedan that the two groups can really work together, it might go a long way toward getting his willing participation back in this alliance.”

“You really think if Aedan sees our troops working together, he’ll throw his concerns to the wind?” asked Greg with some hesitation.

“Well, a lot of this is predicated on the fact that I need to prove the Swabians had no involvement in the destruction of the hangar,” said Jack. “If I can prove that, and show him that a higher level of camaraderie can exist between all the nationalities of this army, I think we can at least get out of Picardy as one united force.”

Greg thought over the idea for a moment before letting out a deep breath. “You ever wish things could just be easy for once? You know, the entire army stays together, fights together effortlessly, and we get across to Java and spank Bancroft the first time we see him? Why do we always have to do things the hard way?”

Jack started to laugh at that statement. “I guess if it came too easy, it just wouldn’t be as interesting. Luckily for us, we’re used to getting the shit end of the stick. We just assume now that everything is going to be a slog just to get us through to the other side.”

“There’s a lot of truth in that statement, Jack. Oh well, perhaps I should stop griping. Once this war is over and we go back to peace, I’ll be wishing for these days to come back again. I shouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Jack reached over and patted his friend’s shoulder. “Someday, things will be easy for us. Just not today.”

“Well, here’s to hoping at least. So when did you want to start this Galician/Swabian exercise? How soon?”

“This afternoon good enough for you?” asked Jack. “I figure you can set it up however you want but in the meantime, the city still needs help getting cleared. And since they’re so close to the airfield, it might be a good place to start. Hell, they can even start clearing the destruction to help my investigation.”

“I’ll get word out right away,” promised Greg. “And I’m looking forward to seeing the look on Lindy’s face when he hears this one.”

“Can you at least try to sell him on it a little?” asked Jack. “Let’s not make it sound terrible.”

“It doesn’t sound terrible to me,” said Greg with a laugh. “But to Lindy? It’ll sound like you just shot his dog and you’re demanding payment for the act.”

Jack shook his head. “Can I count on you to bring him back to reality then?”

With a chuckle, Greg nodded his answer and then soon took off in the direction of the Allied camp across the way. For a brief moment, Jack allowed himself to be used for the extra manpower to drag a partially collapsed roof out from the crushed remains of the house underneath it. Once the roof was moved out to the street and cut down for disposal, Jack watched as the widow who owned the house praised the soldiers for their help by offering the only thing she could access—small pieces of individually-wrapped chocolate.

It was a scene that would melt even the hardest of hearts but it only served to reinforce Jack’s idea that the soldiers who worked together could achieve anything. Even out here, where all the different nationalities mixed to achieve a common goal, it was clear that their sense of unity was heightened by their shared sweat and toil.

If it was so easy for the other Allied nations to work together, what would it take for Jack to get the Swabians included into the mix?

Today was going to be the day.

Trevor could feel it in his bones, anxious for the moment when it would arrive. It was the reason why he was marching near the head of his army today, wanting to be amongst the first to cross over that significant boundary.

Funnily enough, his impatience to get to that boundary was noticed by someone else.

Gavin gave him a smirk and an elbow in the ribs as he fell in beside him. “Pace yourself, Trevor. We’ll get there shortly.”

Trevor couldn’t help but grin at him. “It’s hard not to be a little excited about what will happen as soon as we get to the top of that ridge. I’m looking forward to the view.”

“And what view would that be? All the farmland that will be waiting for us to plunder on the other side?”

Trevor shook his head. “All the Javan farmland on the other side. Once we cross that border, our army will be on the home turf of the Javans for the first time in this war. And for that fact, I couldn’t be more ecstatic.”

Ecstatic was a good way to describe his feelings. It was the second time in a year that he’d been this close to the Javan border, however his first attempt had been blocked by General Ryan’s superior army, forcing Trevor and his men to retreat along the outskirts of Tyrol until the race for Worchester began.

That had occurred nearly a year ago and the pass was far to the south of where they were now. This time, Trevor’s men would be crossing over from Thessaly, and this time as well, there would be no Javans waiting to contest their entry.

Trevor was silently thankful for that fact alone. Not that he wasn’t in the mood to fight but he’d gotten used to the brief peace that had endured for the army over the past few months. With the Javans still in Belfort, there was no force of any size that could challenge his army for dominance all the way to the Javan west coast.

“It wouldn’t hurt to be able to stock up on supplies from the enemy,” noted Gavin after a moment of silence. “At least that way, we don’t have to keep relying on Morris and his Thessalians.”

Trevor grunted in response. “That thought has been on my mind as well. I don’t trust Morris as far as I can throw him, and getting away from his courtesy will be a good thing in the long run. At least now any food we take from the Javans is food they can’t use for themselves. Hopefully, it’ll help bring this war to an end even sooner.”

For the first time in years, Gavin nodded to that as if peace was a serious prospect. Throughout the entire army, everyone’s feelings about the conflict seemed to have changed. In the beginning, Tyrol was very much the underdog in the fight, and there weren’t many who thought they could stand up to the Javans for very long, despite their martial prowess.

However, the longer this conflict went on, the more stretched the Javans became. They were now fighting enemies in all four vectors, and based on the information passed back to him by Trevor’s spies, the situation on the home front in Java was deteriorating by the day. Now, all Trevor had to do was to outlast his opponent, and they had a very real shot at victory for the first time in the whole conflict.

Trevor was also hopeful that another army would soon land on Java. Though he had no answer back from Jack Easterbrook, he knew his man in Lockhaven had gotten the disgraced Admiral McKenzie to reach out to his one-time colleague. Trevor’s hope was that Easterbrook would land his army in Java, and between the two of them, they could squash Bancroft in the middle.

Even still, that moment was likely many months away if it even happened at all. For now, Trevor had to celebrate the little victories, like the one that would happen in another twenty feet.

Seeing the top of the ridge, Trevor’s pace picked up into a quick walk as he sought to get to the top. From behind him, Gavin started to chuckle as he increased his pace to match. Only a few more feet, and Trevor would be in Java.

The last footsteps took a small eternity to reach but finally, Trevor planted his right foot at the very top of the ridge, looking out on the land of Java below him.

It was here, in the middle of the continent, that the barren wastelands of western Thessaly finally broke, revealing the fertile and lush farmlands of the Javan interior. Cold and desolate dirt gave way to an abundance of color—greens for the trees and plants and blue for the ponds and the skies. Small farmsteads could be seen in the distance, people whose lives had been untouched by war to this point.

After today, they wouldn’t have the same luxury. Not after Trevor stripped their produce from them to feed his growing army.

“Look better than you pictured?” asked Gavin. “Because it looks pretty damn good to me!”

“It’s one of the most beautiful sights I’ve ever seen,” said Trevor, now in a state of awe. “But it’s surpassed by only two things.”

“What are those?”

“The sight of Nina in my bed,” said Trevor with a chuckle. “And the sight of Amboy in the morning sunshine.”

Gavin laughed alongside him. “Well, I haven’t seen the former but I’d have to agree with you on the later. Hopefully we can see that sight sometime soon. When we bring our victorious army back to Tyrol.”

Trevor grinned and reached out to squeeze Gavin’s shoulder. “Soon, brother. Now that we’re in Java, it won’t be long until we reach Belfort. With Belfort will come Bancroft, and we can truly bring the war to his front door. Victory has never seemed closer than it is right now.”

Trevor was not the only one to have a visible reaction upon the sight of Javan territory. Most of the army cheered as they crossed the border between the two lands, finally setting foot in the land of their enemy. Several of their reactions were more visceral. Many of the men spit on Javan soil, showing their disdain for their enemy. One corporal took it to a new length, finding a small bush and promptly squatting over to release his bowels.

“What?” called out the corporal as he squatted. “I wanted to be the first one to shit on Java!”

His comrades laughed at that answer, and many of them rushed to repeat the act.

For the next three days, the army moved through the fertile valleys of the Javan interior, stripping the farms of their food in the process. Trevor’s baggage train had never been larger nor his men any more well-fed. Things had been going so well that something was bound to happen as they continued to move, and sure enough, that event happened on the morning of the fourth day after the crossing.

Trevor was moving along with the rear echelons of the army that day while Gavin led from the front. Nina was moving along beside him when a man came rushing to him from further ahead in the column.

“General Downing, sir! We have reports of enemy movement in front of us!”

That got Trevor’s attention quickly. “What kind of reports? What are you seeing?”

“Sir, General Gower reports that our scouts have gotten word of the movement of the Javan Army. They are moving eastward across the continent and they’ve finally left Belfort!”

“How far away are they? What’s the distance?”

“By General Gower’s estimate, the main body of troops seems to be around three days out still.”

That was the kick in the ass that Trevor had been waiting for. He grabbed Nina’s hand and turned back to the soldier. “Take us to General Gower at once.”

It took nearly twenty minutes for him to get to the front of the column, where Gavin had called a halt to their marching and was now conferring with several scouts over a crude map of Javan near their feet.

“What do we know, Gavin?” asked Trevor once he arrived. “Tell me everything.”

“I have several scouts pushing on ahead but from what I can tell, they were foraging ahead of the army looking out for secure places where we could stop for the night to make our camp. At several farmsteads, different scouts all heard the same thing. That the Javans were coming and that they were ordered to turn over their spare produce to them for food when they arrived. When asked for an estimate, they were told the army was only two days out. Since the scouts are operating about two days in front of the army, I’d expect we’d run into them on the third day.”

“Any sign of how big this Javan Army is?” asked Nina. “And is it still led by General Ryan?”

“That’s the most interesting part about the whole thing,” answered Gavin. “It’s still led by Ryan but from our understanding, it’s not moving like Ryan usually moves. We all know that Ryan is a fast mover, covering distances with lightning speed. This army is not moving that fast. In fact, it’s moving slower than most Javan armies have moved against us. They don’t seem to be covering a lot of ground in a day, however, our spies in Belfort have assured us that Ryan is still in command.”

“So why is Ryan changing his behavior all of a sudden?” asked Trevor. “Why is he moving so slowly?”

“That’s anyone’s guess,” replied Gavin. “If this were foreign territory, I could understand moving slowly to avoid any traps but for many in his army, this is their backyard. They should be moving quickly across this land, so why he’s going so slow is still a mystery.”

“I know why,” said Nina after a moment. “He’s lost his nerve.”

“What do you mean, Nina?”

“It’s obvious, isn’t it? He’s in no hurry to face Trevor again. He remembers what happened the last time he faced Trevor on a battlefield. He had all the numbers and all the advantages and he still lost ninety percent of his army. My guess is that we shattered Ryan’s confidence. He’s dragging his feet because he doesn’t want another battle with us. He’s afraid he’s going to lose.”

The explanation made sense, at least from the standpoint of their prior experience. Even if Trevor was putting himself in Ryan’s shoes, he wouldn’t be in a hurry to face an adversary that he’d already lost handily against. But it still begged one question.

“If that’s the case, why didn’t Bancroft sack him?” asked Gavin, echoing Trevor’s thoughts. “Why is he still in charge of the army if he lost his nerve?”

They all knew the likely answer to that question.

“He doesn’t have anyone else to throw at us,” said Trevor. “All their other commanders are tied up in Ruthenia, Occitania, or set aside for Easterbrook. My guess is that Ryan is the best one left and Bancroft must not realize that his confidence is gone.”

“That’s good for us then,” replied Nina. “A general without any nerve isn’t going to be much of an enemy. Even if his army is larger than ours, he won’t be much of a threat.”

“Better to face an army of wolves led by a sheep than an army of sheep led by a wolf,” quoted Gavin, quickly earning stares from the other two. “It’s an old Thessalian proverb I’m told. At least, that’s what they kept telling me during our Thessalian sojourn.”

“In any event, it’s an apt saying,” replied Trevor. “But even if Ryan has lost his nerve, we can’t discount the fact that he’ll still try to contest our approach through Java. He still has a job to do, and we can’t underestimate him no matter what we think. Remember, this is still the general that pushed us back against the wall in the Wilds. He’s still dangerous.”

“What do you want to do about this then, Trevor?” asked Gavin. “Keep up our course? Press him hard or divert our course to continue toward Belfort by another road?”

Trevor thought over the question for several moments before giving his answer. “I want to put our theory to the test. I want to see what happens to Ryan when he finally encounters our men. If our theory is correct, he’ll become even more cautious and he might try to pull back to Belfort. Let’s keep him from getting a firm footing.”

“How do you want to do that?”

“I want you to keep most of the army intact, however, I want you to detach small groups. Possibly several companies at most but less than a regiment. And I want you to hammer the flanks of his army when he least expects it. I don’t want pitched battles. I want lightning raids against him at points where he’ll never see us coming. We hit them hard and then turn around and run away. I don’t want any pattern to it. We hit them from the front at night and then from the side at midday when they stop to eat. If we can become unpredictable and strike at him at will, my thoughts are that we might just scare him enough to keep him off center. Make sense?”

Gavin nodded. “The men have been spoiling for a fight. All this marching through Thessaly the last few months has made them restless for fighting.”

“We’ll give them their chance now then,” replied Trevor. “Get the word out. I want the first groups to go out now. Keep a steady rotation in and we’ll continue our course until we’re sure of their position. Let’s see if General Ryan has any nerve left.”

Not long after speaking with Greg, Jack made his way across the city to the Swabian camp. Like the rest of Zarah, the Swabian camp was still in shambles from the storm. Right now, a good portion of their soldiers were trying to put things back together to how it was, and Jack had to admit they were making better progress than their counterparts in the other Allied camp.

That wasn’t due to the fact that the Swabians were better at picking themselves back up after calamity but more so to the fact that most of the citizens of Zarah didn’t want the Swabians helping them, which left them quarantined in their camp.

It was a whole lot easier to clean up a small camp than it was to clean up an entire city.

In any event, Jack was looking for Ambros and he made his way toward his headquarters near the center of the camp. For the most part, Jack was lightly guarded, only keeping with him Ben Torben and the other members of his bodyguard. It spoke volumes of the confidence he had in the Swabian King that he felt safe enough to travel through their camp without any altercations breaking out.

True to form, many of the Swabians stopped to watch him, recognizing him for who he really was. None of them tried to interfere or provoke any hostilities though, even with Jack’s small number of men.

Jack thought of it as a sign of the begrudging respect that had developed between the two sides. The Galicians were starting to respect the Swabians as joint partners and the Swabians had started to respect the Galicians for the fair treatment they received after the war.

That wasn’t to say there were still ill feelings on either side but it was a starting point if nothing else.

Jack arrived at Ambros’ headquarters, which was just an old farmhouse on the outside of the city. He was sitting in a rough-looking chair that had clearly seen better days, and he was staring off into space. Once he saw Jack, Ambros snapped back to reality.

“Jack, I wasn’t expecting to see you so soon,” said Ambros, stumbling over his words.

“I figured I might as well stop by,” said Jack, taking a seat across from the Swabian King. “Am I interrupting anything?”

Ambros shook his head. “No, not really. I was just wondering if it might not be better off for everyone if I just took my forces home.”

“You and I both know that no good can come of that,” said Jack. “Why even suggest it?”

“I’m only half-serious, Jack. I’m greatly troubled by the events of this morning, as is everyone else. Mostly troubled because the blame seems to have fallen on my men, and I believe it to be not right.”

Jack nodded with him. “I agree with you.”

Ambros’ mouth fell open. “You do?”

“Of course. I don’t believe that your men sabotaged our own force. Out of this entire army, I believe you and your men are one of the last ones who would ever resort to such an act.”

“We would never, Jack,” said Ambros with a fierce glint in his eyes. “I can assure you that my men had no part in the collapse of those hangars.”

“I believe you, Ambros. And I’m sure once my investigation gets to the bottom of this, we’ll find out the truth. I’m putting the blame on the storm, and I’m sure it will be vindicated when this is all said and done.”

Ambros let out a relieved sigh. “I’m grateful to have your support. I know that our participation in your alliance hasn’t always come with much enthusiasm from the other Allies. I was afraid they might force your hand on this subject.”

Jack chuckled. “Not that Aedan isn’t trying. However, we have had some luck there. Greg has already spoken with him and he’s agreed that we can have more than twenty-four hours to figure out what happened. It’s a small victory but a victory nonetheless.”

“So what are you going to do, Jack?”

“I’m having an investigation into the building as we speak. They are going to go through the wreckage and inspect the structure for any damages. My guess is that the structure wasn’t that sturdy to begin with and when coupled with the power of the storm, we’ll find all the reasons we need as to why it didn’t survive.”

“I remember when those hangars went up,” said Ambros. “They were hastily thrown up by Avila’s cousin, Adalbert, during our last occupation.”

“Adalbert?” said Jack with a laugh. “Now there’s a name I haven’t heard in some time.”

“Well, he met a grizzly end at the hand of a scorned woman,” replied Ambros. “In any event, it was well-deserved. Adalbert had all the vices of the Avila genes with none of the talents. I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did. Anyway, I know he threw those up quickly during the last occupation and from what I saw recently, they’d been taken over unmodified by the Picards. Jack, you know as well as I do that the Swabians aren’t known for our skills with architecture. I’m of half the belief that Adalbert’s men did a piss-poor job of putting them up, and I’m surprised it took them this long to collapse.”

That explanation made a lot of sense to Jack, especially from what he remembered of Adalbert Avila.

“That gives us a good starting theory that my men can work off of,” replied Jack. “There doesn’t appear to be much rhyme or reason in what buildings survived the storm. Those hangars might have been made with steel but the way they’re designed, it wouldn’t be hard for a severe wind to shatter their thin outer layer and bring them down. There are many structures in Zarah that were much better made that didn’t survive either, so my gut feeling is that we can lay the blame on the construction. If that truly is the case, I’ll look forward to clearing your name and getting the other Allies to step back from their hard stance.”