The two forces were small, maybe a hundred each; advanced guards for minor battles, or outposts in case the foe tried some flanking attack.

If they bumped into a foe of similar size then orders and conventions expected them to put the opposition to flight and gain advantage of the ground or maintain a presence and maybe prisoners to question. A small skirmish, a mere commonplace with some possible importance.

The two were the usual mix allotted to such tasks, mounted infantry and light cavalry and had come across each other in the dusk of a damp foggy autumn. And waited the orders from their respective captains.

Two captains sat stiff, stern and composed upon their mounts viewing the opposition and studying the ground with the aid of their telescopes, occasionally drawling out ‘Yes’, ‘I see,’ or ‘Hmmm,’

Then there was a swift, firm snap as the telescopes were closed and dropped into the relevant pocket of each coat, at the same instant.

At which they turned to the small clutch of officers and sergeants waiting respectfully on their words. For despite their shared youthful appearances, they had already garnered differing reputations within the respective armies and as a test been given these small independent commands.

‘As you can see they are deployed,’ he said ‘Infantry centre, cavalry flanks. Centre to slow an attack, then send in the cavalry. Or send the cavalry off first in a sweep to pin us, then advance infantry to shooting range. Yes professionals. A nighttime attack might reduce their aim effectiveness, if we advanced in open order,’ he raised one eyebrow ‘But as we all know night time is an ideal time get lost and’ his expression quirked ‘Shoot on your comrades,’ at this there were voices of agreement as memories of a recent near catastrophe elsewhere in the army surfaced. ‘We’ll wait until dawn and see what advantage the weather brings us. It always does,’

There were shared looks of approval. He was shrewd. So far the campaign was proving tough, and an outpost skirmish was a place where calculated caution was preferred by all ranks.

He gave the necessary orders.

She puffed a stray lock of hair out of her right eye, a signature act and addressed the group of hardened officers and sergeants.

‘There’ll be no charges tonight, not on this damp and uneven ground. Their balance is favoured in infantry, and they’ve got lancers which they can use as dismounted pikes forcing us to spread our cavalry attack. We’ve travelled far, fast not favourable to try anything now. But the time we form up it will be dark, where already groups get lost, shoot at their own side and move in the wrong directions. Pass the order on to get what rest and refreshment we can and rotate the guards. We’ll see what Nature gifts us in the morning,’ she winked ‘Y never know. They might shuffle off in the night,’

There was laughter. She was popular, a general’s daughter who had earned respect as a cavalry commander with an eye for the ground, renowned for carrying out orders, achieving objectives, observing changes in the flow of battle and promptly reporting them back, above all sharp at seeing weaknesses or errors in the foe and going straight for them, thus low casualties. Everyone was certain she could handle an independent command.

Several years of campaign experience in all seasons and many climes, however sleep did not come to her, The camp was in general still, she stepped out passed one guard, gave the common earthy reason, confirmed the password for the return and faded in the night. Dogged by the full implications of the responsibilities weighing on her, throat dryness matched by the dampness in her hands, chasing the racing of her mind as the possibilities on the day ahead hounded her, innards swirled and churned bringing up spasms of dizzying, pitching her forward onto her hands, retching.

Ahead a figure stood up suddenly, eyes wide with surprise and bright in the moonlight, two recruit’s mistakes when night- moving near enemy lines, made all the more ridiculous that they remained standing, albeit swaying with hand loose at their side.

The unexpected sight caused another and more violent bout of vomiting, leaving her sitting and exhausted, only then in her incapacity and gasping did she notice the figure’s trousers were about their ankles. Judging by the sudden scrabbling to haul the garments up, something which must have only just occurred to them.

Even in shock and aftermath of his turmoil, despite the darkness it was easy enough to identify someone with long russet hair.

‘Captain of the Jernesch outpost force?’ he said quavering ‘I witnessed you through my telescope before dusk,’ and with this faded out.

This caused her to peer into the gloom, taking advantage of the moonlight.

‘Oh,’ she replied abashed ‘You are my opposite number of the Strelise?’ she managed a rough snort ‘We both seem to have excellent ocular equipment,’ she looked about, down at herself, then at him, sniffed the breeze ‘And we both appear to have suffered differing disfunctions of our innards. Truce then?’

‘Oh yes. If you wouldn’t mind turning your back I shall have to remove and caste away my undershorts. They are currently an embarrassment,’

‘Fair enough,’ she replied ‘I am not suitable for close discourse either,’

After a discreet pause they met with hand distance, in hers bottle from which she took a long draught, swilled her mouth then spat, the next draught she swallowed, then cleaned the neck, thoroughly, offering it to him.

‘Peppermint cordial. Settles all distresses of the innards, has a calming component too,’

Since she had drunk from the same he could see no problem with partaking and found his own digestive system became calm.

There was another short interlude while they studied each other.

‘First completely independent command?’ he asked, not waiting for a reply ‘I was on a staff, and charged with ensuring sufficient of all supplies were procured and delivered, it was thought I could do something similar with fighting troops and objectives,’ he shrugged the added ruefully ‘What can you do but obey orders?’

She responded with a crocked smile.

‘I commanded cavalry. Upon a battlefield it was fine to get orders to go somewhere and do something. Your choices are limited and there’s only so much ground to cover. Only have to achieve with the minimum of losses. You’re not really a commander, just a competent functionary,’

They lapsed into silence, sharing the bottle back and forth.

‘Those battles,’ he said after the third share ‘All the bodies there because of mistakes and the disgrace heaped upon those who made the errors. Being an aide, you hear all the comments and the hate from the soldiers. You are not supposed to think about it, but when you spend time building up supplies, sort of looking after folk. It becomes a type of nurture, I suppose. And then one day it falls on you, You have to make those decisions,’

She grimaced and took another swig of peppermint.

‘Up until this night I would have said I do that all the time. Yet bearing in mind what I just said,’ she looked around ‘High Holy, but when you are out here with no one to refer up to. When it lands all on you. I never thought it would take me like this. Maybe I’ve seen too many go wrong, and I don’t want to be the one who can’t shift the blame any further upwards,’ she paused to wipe her mouth ‘Damn,’

A very difficult silence settled. Like the ones when you knew a commander above you had made a mess of their orders, one you used to admire,  but your friends and good soldiers were dead. And now she was on that cusp? She had to hurry on.

‘How many years you served?’

‘Ten, Started as a cadet at academy,’

‘Hah. Same as me, though being a girl, I had to learn with my father and,’ she managed a wry grin ‘About a hundred adopted uncles,’ she added then after a rueful chuckle ‘Didn’t stop me blooding my blade and getting blooded back in return,’

‘Yes. Once you go on the field,’ and said no more. Memories of getting supplies and ammunition to a desperate place drifting in.

They both looked up at each other.

‘This has been a rough campaign,’ she said.

‘All worn out if you ask me,’ he replied the weight of tomorrow causing his reserves to break ‘If there is another pitch battle, it’ll be a slugging match for about a day. One too worn to stand the other too tired to chase,’

‘And then winter,’ she looked up at the sky ‘I lived around here a lot of my life. This is going to be a cold, wet, long one,’

‘Terrible for mobility. Infantry get exhausted after a mile, wagons stuck everywhere,’

‘And the poor horses,’ she wiped one eye.

More silence, broken by fidgeting, all the peppermint gone.

‘See you tomorrow then,’ he said getting up

‘Aye,’

Dawn brought heavy rain.

‘It’s a solid, detailed report Captain,’ said the general ‘Yes, I see your point. More a question of observing than losing good men and horses over a patch of ground,’

The general’s great gift was recognising the value of men in the right position. He did not want to demoralise and ridicule a fine staff officer. The man simply wasn’t suited to field command. No, during the winter lull move the fellow be back to where he was frankly irreplaceable, ensuring supplies were ready and available at the right place in the right time. With a promotion.

‘She’s stubborn your daughter. And a soldier’s wit for giving a good reason and not a weak excuse,’

‘Always has been,’

‘Too caring to make a good general. You know, ready to send men into death for the better of others,’

‘That is so my lord. She is best in the heat of the crisis point being aimed  carefully released at the right target,’

‘We will give her, her own regiment of heavies to hone for the spring,’

‘Thank you my lord,’

The end of the winter came as dry and hard, the spring mild. Both armies willing to take advantage of the good ground. One was a measure faster, and the commander with a sharp eye when and where to release his heavy cavalry. He did lose his cavalry general at a vital point, but the young colonel of one regiment rallied the charge and she shattered the lines as expected.

For the defeated army it might have spelt disaster had not its commanders kept their nerves and knew they were retreating a prepared positions and fresh supplies by a fellow who knew his trade.

Thus the perusing exhausted army ran into first a solid defence then a swift counter-attack which caused a crisis for the pursuers.

‘It is a hell of a thing I am asking of you colonel, but time needs to be brought,’

‘It will my lord. No matter the price,’ she said.

Despite his rank, he went out with troops collecting spent arrows and bolts and discarded steel to be used again. The russet hair drew him. It was her, lying askew, crossbow bolt through her chest. Even caked with the filth of battle, her features shone through, irritated more than pained.

Like an elder brother, he lifted her onto his cart, told his command to carry on, and rode off, despite trembling towards the foe. The banner of truce aloft. The rearguard he met were prompt on seeing his cargo, he was escorted at a pace.

The features were similar, the man’s lined with fatigue, defeat and grief looked in.

‘Her face. Did you clean it?’

‘She saved my life once. She didn’t offer battle,’

Realisation took pain from the elder man’s face. Her report from the late autumn

‘She looks peaceful,’ her father said.

‘She is,’ the officer said ‘Trust me. She is,’

He had smoothed away the irritated expression in the cleaning. It was only right. Maybe someone would do the same for him, one day.

For once he was quite calm.