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The Company withdraws, in drips and drops, back down the road to the old fort that Scarlett and Zivka marked on our maps earlier. In truth we had passed it going this way coming out, but paid it no heed. In the time since the wind must have shifted the sands a little and the old walls are more remarkable. Sleeping under the cover provides the troopers who make it that far with a nice windbreak. Comfortable. Some of them don't quite bother pushing all the way, and our camp ends strung out along the road like a centipede. Too many somewhat wounded, too many men too tired, too long a distance. Some of them simply collapse when the halt is called and pile into what tents and covers are available.
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The next day comes far too readily and everyone is looking forward to it not one bit. Although on the wind: an odd trace of new scents.
Something . . . brewed.
The Blue Rats, cheery, for reasons only know to gods and demons and jesters, giggle over a campfire and pour a few more bits of water into the kettle they've contrived to get going. Is that ? Oh. It is. Somehow, Decimus has scored a coffee ration and it's been delivered by the group of hard working company engineers marking out the first stretch of a trench-line behind us. The foreman gives us a little nod of the head. His people have been at it for a while, though they figured they'd let us sleep in until dawn hits. Apparently Cmdn Isenfrii's orders were exacting: The old fort can serve as a good lynch-pin for any defenses around the oasis. Our luck we meet them on the way.
The coffee does rather a lot for morale, as does the extra few bits and kits that the engineers brought up with them. The Stainfingers in particular are overjoyed. Finally, full pouches.
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After that, its only getting everyone shaken up, shaken in and moving. Might be some scant hope to sneak up on the Windsworn but sheer practicality dashes that dream. At night, maybe it would be theoretically possibly. In broad daylight, out here, in this environment, with this many marching feet kicking up this much dust? Our trial is too clear. Our benefit instead must be speed, focus and the fact that all camps are slow to wake and we got up *early*. And at least the coffee gives a grand boost in getting going.
Some of the blades take point, as instructed. We keep a lean column. Somewhere in a textbook, someone would call this an assault column. Probably means a lot, if you were the kind of person to study war from textbooks.
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>Company re-ordered, trooper adjustments applied, new kit and refits applied
>Ready for engagement !
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The Rainboweyed Archers get checked over by the specialists. Given that they haven't dropped dead they might live a little longer. Someone asks if we want to try using Icarus fancy rock to pull the Wrack out of -- someone gets cold-clucked by an archer because the notion that it involves 'Icarus' doing 'anything' to 'them' is fighting words. We drop the matter immediately. . .
