That broke the tension in the camp, and the unit’s leaders on this side of the gorge spread back out to check on their teams.
None of them were actually expecting trouble, so when a convoy of four magitech trucks pulling trailers and flying the West Keria naval standard crossed the river just before dark, everyone was shocked.
"Roll out a ladder. I will go down and stop them to see if it really is an international merchant." Dominic insisted.
"And if they are?" The soldier with the ladder asked.
"Then that depends on their answers. We’re not at war with West Keria, but if they’re moving military supplies, they’re not leaving with them." Dominic replied.
Dominic stepped into the road just in time for the first truck in the convoy to apply the brakes.
If they had wanted to.
They weren’t idiots, and they knew that this was most likely an ambush. So, when they hit the [Area Barrier] That Dominic had raised, they were still doing close to thirty kilometres an hour, and the occupants of the first truck were tossed up against the windshield.
"Sonofabitch. That hurt. What the hell did we hit?" The driver demanded.
"Magical barrier. Welcome to the Skiptondal River crossing. My band of merry men is looking for a particular war criminal and his associates. You wouldn’t be harbouring or supplying them, would you?" Dominic asked as the other trucks came to a screeching halt.
Steam hissed as pressure valves were released to stop the trucks further back down the line, and shouts of alarm were raised as the mortar teams appeared along the ridge lines.
The driver of the first truck held a cloth to his head, slowing the bleeding, and glared at Dominic, who signalled at him in the Trade Guild’s hand language, which was the same as the Wavemates military signals.
{We’re looking for Prince Kaizon and his military leaders. We won’t let military supplies pass.}
The driver blinked slowly, then gestured back.
{We have a Guild transit pass.}
Dominic shrugged. {Don’t care. If he’s here, he dies. No war supplies go east of the river until he is dead.}
{We’re moving textiles from Skiple to Chip.} The driver replied.
That meant they had to cross Dagos and West Keria, or go by sea, as Chip was northeast of West Keria, along the shore. However, if they had set out from Skiple on this route, they had most likely left weeks ago, and at the time, there was no war within Dagos borders, only the invasion of Cygnia.
"Open the doors. I am checking for compliance with the pass. No offence intended, but we’ve dealt with enough traitors lately." Dominic insisted, loud enough for his men and the other drivers to hear him.
The drivers’ responses were mostly annoyed, but the presence of the mortar teams told them that Dominic wasn’t asking.
One cargo box at a time, Dominic checked the supplies, and found that the merchants were honest about their cargo. There wasn’t a single weapon, military uniform or a bit of magitech anywhere to be found.
He even sniffed for hidden magic in the vehicles. But, unless the contraband goods were hidden next to the steam boiler furnace, there was no more magic on the vehicles either.
"Go ahead. The vehicles are clean." Dominic announced, raising his voice, so the Regiment could hear him.
Then he signalled to the driver closest to him. {Everything east of here is either under siege or under the control of the Cygnia Army. Best of luck making your destination. You might want to go the long way.}
The driver passed the message to the front of the convoy, and they made their way up out of the canyon.
"Brilliant plan, Sir. The military convoy in the distance just watched them leave the valley, and they’re headed our way now." The scouts reported when Dominic got back up the cliff.
"Convoy? Surely, not the Viscount again?" Dominic asked.
The scout shook his head. "No, Sir. They are newly arrived. A full Regiment. A proper infantry Regiment, that is. Close to five thousand men."
Dominic sighed. "I believe that the Princess will agree that if they’re dumb enough to try to push across the bridge, we can deal with them in the canyon. They must know that we’re here now, as we stopped the merchants.
So, they’re going to come across at full battle readiness.
Try not to blow the bridge, if possible. But there’s no need to let them engage our men just to let the bridge survive."
Once the canyon was clear, the unit began moving forward in lockstep, a perfect military march leading with infantry, and the supply vehicles at the rear of the convoy.
When they reached the bridge, Dominic extended an [Area Barrier] over the gap between the cliff faces, intended to block archers from firing up into the mortar teams.
But the soldiers didn’t stop, and Dominic began to have real concerns about their mental health.
In fact, they marched all the way into the canyon, then sounded a whistle and turned to face both sides of the ambush.
"Deploy anti-magic shell!" The Commander shouted through a bullhorn.
"Morons." Dominic muttered.
Explosions rocked the canyon, and extended down the road the last fifty metres to the bridge, where the first of the supply trucks was parked, waiting for what they thought would be a slaughter to end.
Technically, they weren’t wrong. It was a slaughter.
But Mortars weren’t a magical device. At least not once the ammunition was created.
An anti-magic zone would have no effect on them.
Princess Alexis shook her head in dismay and looked down at the aftermath of the massacre.
Three volleys. That was all it had taken. They could have probably stopped after two, and finished with rifles, if there were any survivors.
"Why don’t they learn?" She pleaded with nobody in particular, disgusted by the waste of life.
Dominic wrapped an arm around her shoulder, and the Regimental Quartermaster gave a rueful sigh before speaking.
"Did you see their determination? They knew that the war was lost already. They didn’t come here to win, they came here to redeem themselves or die with dignity."
Princess Alexis frowned at the young Nobleman. She had never thought of it that way.
They didn’t know what was happening to the west of them, only what they had seen to the east.
If things were just as bad in the rest of the nation, it wouldn’t be any surprise if the soldiers saw their only options as victory or death. The peasantry of this portion of Dagos had mostly died before the war even started.