>>25950644The wind brought the hearty scent of the forest’s hummus to Shige’s hooked nose. It was sugary and moist. Shige was almost looking forward to their arrival in the tundra. He’d never had a sweet tooth, so it was bad enough that everything he was eating these days gave him toothaches. At least once they got near the coast, the sea breeze might cover up the overbearing smell of candy. He missed salt, kelp, and briny mist. Hell, maybe he can spend all his time out on sea. Mori knows the reason he took this on was that he was tired of sitting in the HQ dealing with meetings and bureaucracy.
His horse whinnied a bit and the Rear Admiral patted its neck. Shige was fairly familiar with horses, but he was no centaur. Still, he was better off than many of his men. Being drilled on slothriding was fairly common back on the island; most Deadbeats interested got to at least learn the basics, but the mechanics were quite different compared to horse riding. The saddles gave you sores in different spots for one, he’d heard some lads whinging about that.
And the horses lent to them spooked more easily than a deadsloth, but these were riding horses, not destriers bred for the front lines. He’d pick it over being packed in one of the transport wagons, or walking after the convoy, like some camp followers had taken to doing. The Luknights had explained this was a common and harmless practice; there was a lot of money to be made providing services to an army on the road, and the Deadbeats had plenty of personal gold to spend on food, equipment maintenance or companionship.
Speaking of gold, Shige slowed down his horse to check on the cart carrying the expedition’s treasury. Building a military base was always expensive; doing it in a foreign land in inhospitable tundra made the bill grow pretty fast. Good Deadbeat gold was going to pay for this, and they’d brought what they needed. No need to rack up a credit debt on the continent.
He was riding alongside the armored wagon now, pulled by four horses. On the front of the car, things were as he left them. The Lunaito coachman was minding the horses with a Deadbeat sailor riding shotgun, gun in hand and katana at his side. Farther back, skeletal warriors were riding along, alert. They saluted the admiral.
“Everything looks in order, Gaia?” Gaia was familiar with this game of his; the Admiral was able to ascertain the state of a patrol. He wanted to see if she was.
“Sir, all seems to be as it should-” Gaia paused. “Wait, where are the outriders? There should be two on each side, there’s no one port side. Sabius?” The soldier, a bit uncomfortable on his horse, answered promptly: “Ma’am, Gallia and Koi are taking a shit, they stopped on the roadside some minutes back. They should be back soon.” Shige lifted an eyebrow. “Both of them? At the same time?” Sabius shrugged. “They grumbled about something they ate. Maybe their bellies aren’t used to all the syrup yet.”
The Admiral frowned. “Gaia, bring in a few men and reinforce this-” Then, multiple things happened, quickly.
Shige heard the sound of ceramic shattering on the steel wagon, followed by the whistles of arrows gliding by. Through pure instinct, the admiral threw his hand down, grasped his Death Mask and put it on, in a smooth motion.
He felt his blood run cold and took in the situation in an instant. Gaia had her mask on, katanas out, and was standing on her horse. These youths and their quick reflexes; she always was a tryhard in that regard. The smoke from the broken pottery was spreading. They’d thrown three pots, one on the front of the cart, one on Sabius, and Shige wasn’t sure where the third had ended up.
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