Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,94

it was cold comfort.

Things got chaotic after that. Will returned to the middle of the column, where the sub-marshal had reestablished some semblance of order. The dead were counted and lined up, while the wounded were identified and given preliminary treatment until they could be moved back down the line. The supply camp that followed behind Sixth Division contained a sizeable medical group for just that purpose.

Thanks to the efforts of Will’s sorcerers, most of the road was still clear and their elementals were able to rapidly clean up the small sections that had been covered with rocks and to fill in the craters that would impede wagon travel.

The First was delayed by almost two hours, but it began moving again, though it was slightly smaller. They’d lost two hundred and seventy-two men, and close to three hundred more had been badly wounded. It was their first taste of war, and First Division was already down by a tenth of its soldiers.

Will had intended to march for several more hours after getting by the narrow section of road, but they stopped early, moving into an area of wide empty land and making camp. First needed time to bury its dead, while the wounded would be sent back, their part in the war already done. That was the grim reality that few thought about when it came to supply lines. An open supply line wasn’t just a channel for food and supplies to flow to an army, it was also a channel for the wounded to be transported back home.

It was also soon apparent that Will’s own body hadn’t escaped unharmed. While the breastplate had protected him from whatever had struck his chest, he had apparently hurt himself after the explosion. Roughly an hour after the first shock, he found himself nearly unable to move—his back was in agony. It took him several minutes of reflection before he connected his current pain to what he had done to move the dead horse. Although he loathed to do so, he was forced to use yet another of his precious regeneration potions; otherwise he might have been incapacitated for days or weeks.

He had some empty time while camp was being set up and before the other senior officers arrived for the inevitable evening meeting regarding the day’s disaster, so he used the time for a short nap to recuperate his energy after the potion. An hour later he awoke feeling much better, so he activated the limnthal and shared his news with Arrogan.

When he had finished describing things, his mentor’s first question was about the explosions. “Do you know if they used spell-bombs or alchemy?”

“Janice saw someone use an activation enchantment before everything blew up, but that doesn’t mean anything,” answered Will. He knew about the alchemical possibility from his studies, and he’d read about spell-bombs in the military histories, though he knew nothing of how they were constructed. “It could have been alchemical blasting powder or enchanted spell-bombs. Is there a way to tell, and does it make a practical difference?”

“For what they did, there’s not much functional difference, but knowing what method they used will give you a better idea of what they might be capable of in the future. Blasting powder is versatile and easier to produce, but the strength of the explosion is limited. Spell-bombs can get much, much worse than what you described, but they require a lot of time and skill to produce. If that’s what it was then your enemy may have a lot more magical support than you anticipate.”

Will frowned, rubbing his chin. “From the intelligence reports I’ve seen, Darrow’s pool of available sorcerers has been slowly dwindling over the last few decades, possibly longer, which probably means that unlike Terabinia they haven’t had a source of new elementals. It might even be part of the reason they attacked a few years ago; if they realized their position would steadily erode over time, they might have wanted to gamble while they were still strong enough to have a decent chance of winning.”

“That’s good,” replied Arrogan. “I’ve been worried that Lognion might not be the only one who managed to find or revive the secret of the heart-stone enchantment. But if he is the only one who has it then it makes sense that Terabinia has been steadily growing in power while Darrow dwindles.”

“Is there a way to know if it was powder or spell-bombs?” said Will, repeating his earlier question.

“Blasting powder has a distinctive smell