For Oliver, it was a quiet day. He didn't do anything directly – not until evening ca – and rely allowed himself to watch. A quiet day it might have been for him, it was a thoroughly exhausting day for everyone else. In a standoff siege like this, a soldier would often find himself with far too little to do, and far too much ti with his thoughts.
That was not the case for Oliver's army – they found themselves impossibly busy.
Once Northman ca back, he saw with surprise that their army was engaged in a mock battle. He gave his report to Oliver and made a passing comnt of surprise about how well the slaves were managing to hold their own.
After that first victory, they hadn't managed to secure another one. Cormrant approached the battle far more carefully from then on, and Skullic's n did the sa, exercising a resilience that would not allow their pride to be trampled for a second ti. Though they did not win, the slaves were finally starting to show a glimpse of their usefulness and their confidence was building.
Just as importantly, their leaders were considerably more active. The Sergeants Oliver had spoken to earlier had co back to introduce themselves sowhat bashfully. Ingolsol's hold on them had worn off, but the effects of their deeds had not. Joining Firyr, there was Yol, Illy, Sebastian and Zarm.
Each man was actively participating in the battles now, with a certain vigour, giving out orders and taking charge of their n as one would expect.
He'd interspersed the day with a good amount of breaks. He thought he had a hold on how much activity the n could tolerate in a day, and he was cautiously treading the line, so as not to exhaust them. When Northman's n ca back, Oliver had Cormrant switch with him, and take the horses out again, for another round of the hill.
The Vice-Commander expressed the sa doubt about the seemingly aningless procedure as his superior did, but he carried it out nonetheless.
When Northman took over, Skullic's n fought even more valiantly, and the slaves were pressed back harder. That fact only made them rise up stronger though, as Judas and Firyr were firmly into the process now. They were fiercely sharing battle plans, and pointing at different n that they thought needed to pull their weight. Nila had wisely drifted away, sensing that she'd already filled her role.
Having the n switch between the three tasks – improving the camp, scouting and battling – kept them active enough that they soon grew used to the fact that they were in the very heart of enemy territory. With so much activity, there ca the illusion of purpose. After all, if they were doing so much, how could they help but secure victory? Their Captain surely had sothing in mind for them.
It was not until evening when Oliver took to the saddle himself, for the final patrol of the day. He had seen enough of the mock battles, and by now he figured the n could get along without him. There were fewer restrictions on him than there had been at the start of the day.
He saddled up and brought his retainers with him, as well as Nila. He left Judas behind once again. He and Firyr were so absorbed in what they were doing it seed like a waste to pull them away. The rest of their numbers were padded by Skullic's n, bringing them up to thirty.
"Are we to do the sa as you commanded earlier, my Lord?" Verdant asked.
"No," Oliver replied. "But we shall make it look as though we are. I want a better look at the back of this fort regardless – we shall take matters from there. Nila, do you suppose you could land a shot from the back of your saddle?"
It was the sort of skill that one needed extensive training to carry out ordinarily, and he doubted that Nila would have done such a thing before, but he figured he would ask regardless. She pulled a thoughtful face in response to the question. "…Mm, I think I might be able to. Though I won't be able to go at a gallop."
He nodded. He should have expected such a thing. Her mastery of the bow was advanced enough that she could shoot an arrow whilst she was sprinting, and still lose hardly a fraction of her usual accuracy. The back of a horse was not likely to be much different.
"Ah, so you have so mischief planned, my Lord," Verdant said, smiling wrly/
They picked their way through the forest – which didn't happen to be very much of it at all – and burst out onto the open greens. Indeed, that was the advantage of putting their encampnt so close to the target, despite the psychological debuff it afflicted them with. It was so much faster getting into enemy territory. A short journey downhill, and they were already there.
Oliver pushed his heels to the side of his borrowed horse. He'd decided not to risk Walter unless he had to. They sped out around the base of the hill, following the sa route that they'd told Cormrant and Northman to follow. The hooves of their horses thudded a rhythm in the snow. It was an oppressive thing, made worse by the coming dark. Once again, it was sunset that Oliver was seeing the fort in.
They traced a loop around the entirety of the hill's base. Oliver kept an eye out as he went. He'd already heard much from the scouts' reports, but it was no replacent for seeing it himself. He saw that the trees had been cut back all the way, on all sides, none of them even reached the bottom of the hill. The whole hill itself was a featureless killing ground, devoid of any sort of cover.
It was an archer's paradise, if one was fool enough to get into range.
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