There are victories, and there are decisive victories. The difference - or so the military histories teach us - is often in the pursuit after the battle. I set Durgat's half-orcs loose, with Alissara's elves to support them and guard their flanks.
Behind them went Hurmas and the northern men. Hurmas was wounded, but only slightly, and insisted on continuing to lead his men. After them I sent Yazgash and her people, to protect their rear.
Many of the late arrivals to the field, like Aspar, Kilfa and Sezima's men had marched for hours to join us just in time; they didn't have the legs for it. I let them rest for a short while. Enneiros' elves had had to fight hand to hand in the wood, and had taken a number of casualties. They stayed behind, too.
We looked to our wounded. I had mixed feelings about it, but Sanatha insisted on giving water to the enemy wounded as well.
- "They're thieves, San. Rapists and murderers."
- "There's been very little of that." she said. "Thankfully."
- "Only because we denied them the opportunity. Do you remember what happened in Whydah before we got there? When Yavantay let them loose, and Nathal allowed it?"
- "How do you know these are the same men?"
- "How do you know they're not?" I snorted. "Do you think that the bad mercenaries attacked Aludar from behind, and then sacked the town - but these are 'good' mercenaries?"
Sanatha looked at me oddly. I was angry - at my sister? I should've been happy. I felt Glasha's hand on my arm. She didn't have to say anything; I could tell from the look in her eyes that she was disappointed with me. And so was I. It just took me an extra moment to realize it.
- "I'm sorry, San. That was uncalled for."
- "That's alright." she said.
- "It's not. I apologize."
Sanatha grinned at me. "Then you're forgiven. Tell me what happened here: I thought there would be more dead."
We had lost just over a hundred killed, two thirds of them men. Another hundred were wounded. There were nearly three hundred mercenary dead, and another three hundred prisoners, including the wounded and those who were simply too exhausted to run. That was almost a quarter of the army they'd arrived with.
"The battle went on for so long." she continued. "I thought there would be more ... casualties."
- "Quite a bit of it was pushing and grunting." I said. "Shield against shield. The half-orcs could have done much more damage, but they held their position. It comes down to two things, really: the enemy are mercenaries. They're prepared to kill for plunder - they're not as ready to die for it."
- "You think they didn't fight hard?"
- "Had we wavered, or shown weakness, they would've been energized. Then they would have crushed us, without mercy. But they were tired, and hungry, and when a quick victory eluded them, they weren't willing to risk their lives."
I also believed that their morale was low. The mercenaries had tried several times to lure us into battle, or to get past us so that they could find food. We had denied them both. They now had no choice but to withdraw to lands that had been stripped bare. They didn't have enough boats to cross the river with their guns, and there was nothing left to eat on this side. There had been no easy plunder, and no pay - only hardship, and failure.
Mehana
was
a great victory, and it was decisive. The mercenaries were beaten, even if they didn't all know it yet.
We would pursue, but carefully. I wanted no headlong rush until we discovered what had happened to the east. If Moksha and the mounted mercenaries had taken Calep, or if they returned and fell on our pursuers, that could change the whole situation.
After an hour's rest, I left Tir Alit's son and his men in charge of our wounded and the mercenary prisoners. With the remainder of our men, we set off after the retreating foe, intending to cover a few leagues before dark.
***
When I asked the fey to contact Peneda, the night before, and to warn him about what was coming, Naevys understood how important this was to me. We both knew that his folk preferred to act independently, and that I had never asked them to 'run errands' before.
That was why Naevys acted the way he saw fit. When his path was blocked by a new mercenary camp (where he hadn't expected to find one), the fey ambushed the sleeping enemy in the middle of the night. Not a full-scale attack, of course; just two dead guards, a volley of arrows, some ear-piercing shrieks, and a few more arrows before the fey disappeared again into the night.
Another two leagues further on, Naevys and his folk found another mercenary camp. This one smelled different, because of the hundreds of horses there. The fey decided to terrorize this camp as well.
They were only able to stampede a few horses, but they certainly threw a scare into the men. They didn't press too hard; three hundred men were a few too many to stir up.
Peneda got his message, an hour before dawn. Naevys was also able to tell him the exact location of the enemy horse camp. Arvo Peneda reacted promptly, and wisely: he immediately sent a message to Dergun and his infantry.
Peneda then did exactly what I'd hoped he would; he interposed his force of 150 riders between the enemy and Calep. When Moksha and the mercenaries rode out, the next morning, they found Peneda blocking their way.
They had twice his numbers, but the majority of their men weren't trained to fight from horseback. They would be lambs for the slaughter in a mounted melee. Moksha tried to go around, and he tried to push forward. Our riders, of course, couldn't risk a battle either, but they did a masterful job of staying between Moksha and Calep, giving ground only very gradually.
While we were fighting at Mehana, Arvo Peneda was slowly retreating eastwards.
By forced marches, never stopping to rest, Dergun's men covered five leagues, and entered the town before the mercenaries could get there.
When Arvo Peneda finally moved his men south, Moksha's men were delighted - until they advanced, and found the walls of Calep bristling with armed men. The gates were shut against them.
They might have guessed that they outnumbered the defenders. But an attack, at this stage, would have been foolish, with Peneda's riders still nearby, and able to take them in the rear.
It must have been a bitter brew for Moksha - or the mercenary captain who was actually in command - to swallow.
They retreated before dark.
***
After all of that, the fey weren't quite done. They found a comfortable wood to rest in, and then decided to move back the way they'd come. There had been far too many mercenaries gathering to the south. Naevys knew that we might need help.
Some of the fleeing mercenaries had the misfortune to run into the fey. Many of them had discarded weapons and armour, in order to run faster.
Normally, the fey prefer to strike from ambush, to hit and run. But unarmed, unarmoured men were simply too tempting.
It wasn't pretty.
***
During the pursuit after Mehana, we discovered something about the mercenaries that we hadn't known. Some of them were professional fighters, well-trained and well equipped. But quite a few were not.
Some had equipment which could only be described as second-hand. Others were simply not in peak condition; we captured men who were too tired to run any further, and too weak to resist. In most of those cases we learned that they had been pulling carts or dragging guns since they'd landed on our shores.
Now I understood a little better. Kurebir couldn't have had much faith in the combat abilities of these men. He'd used them as beasts of burden, while he reserved the better fighters for fighting and skirmishing.
That meant that the early casualties the mercenaries had suffered were unevenly distributed; it was Kurebir's best troops that had been targeted by elven arrows, or ambushed at night by the fey. They absorbed the bulk of his losses during their march south, and especially in the failed attempt to cross over to the western side.
Two days after the battle, we reached the fortified camp on the edge of the river. There were guns everywhere, facing north, east, and now south. Durgat and Hurmas had wisely refrained from advancing too close. Durgat had moved his folk north of the camp, to block a retreat in that direction.
