March on Vulpezzia

We hadn’t stayed in Pest long, there was no need to. Giving the former Alpha an agreeable surrender term really was the best possible way of wrapping things up. I was right to trust my own peaceable instincts and ignore the bloodthirsty clamoring of my advisers.

Pest and all of Carpathia was basically handed over to me without a fight, the citizenry welcomed me with open arms and didn’t so much as loot a copper; best of all, they seemed all too eager to form their own little gangs and take care of the remaining nomadic bandits in their own little way. A day didn’t pass without a gray wolf floating down the Danube with his tail removed.

Even fucking Luce, as unpleasant as it was, resulted in her belly showing the first signs of pregnancy a month later. Assuming it was a healthy birth, it meant that I would be one step closer to sealing her agreement and never having to touch her again.

Luce rode in a carriage as my army ventured forth from Carpathia towards Italia. The physician recommended making her as comfortable as possible for the journey to prevent miscarriage. I needed her Senatorial connections but I also didn’t want to condemn myself to another heat with her.

We had argued quite a bit about how to approach our final march. I was in favor of marching immediately and taking them by surprise but both Laurent and Vito argued against it, suggesting we send some couriers out to all of the Republics demanding they recognize us and have the couriers return to us on the same path we were taking to Italia.

Along with potentially increasing my legitimacy, this would also cause the Senators to panic and an emergency session in Vulpezzia would be called. Thus all of the Senators would likely be in the same spot where they could be more easily trapped and persuaded of my benevolent intentions.

The Austro-Czechia and Alpini Republics sent our couriers back with their support. This was not a surprise, the Austro-Czechians feared wolven expansion rightfully and the Alpinis, including Vito, made up a big portion of the military that Philippe screwed over.

Dalmatia came next. Luce had told me that they had voted against me on account of their Senator not actually giving a flying fuck about getting all of Dalmatia back from the wolves, so it was quite a surprise when I found out they were pledging loyalty. Perhaps it had something to do with my massive forces approaching their territory with the intent of passing through peacefully or otherwise.

They made good on their promise, falling over to greet us as we passed through the Balkans with a procession and we were swarmed with volunteers that we gladly allowed to join. Senato Pietro himself was there, a young, handsome albino fox with red eyes and a pink nose. It was no wonder he won his election with dashing looks like that.

Drunk on the festivities and perhaps a bit of drink, after he made a speech we put on a little show where I took him hostage. The crowd loved it as I addressed them and jokingly declared I was personally escorting him to Vulpezzia and drew my blade. Luce stood watching, snarling from the sides, while Livio was slapping his legs and howling with laughter.

Thankfully, the Senator seemed to be a theatrical tod and played along with great sprits. We put on a two fox comedy routine and we had the citizenry of Dalmatia roaring in amused yips. At some point, Goliath had shown up on the stage and the massive fox was juggling sabers, and lifting spectators on each arm before the crowds.

Shortly after, a carriage rolled up with all the comforts for the Senator and I tossed him in, declaring him my captor to the crowd and promised he would be treated like royalty.

Bowing, I stepped into the carriage and waved to the crowd as the horses carried us away. Galip was also there, completely nude and with his wrists bound for a transgression he did earlier in the day. This was, in fact, my slave’s carriage, but the Senator was too drunk to realize it; he had his legs crossed and was laughing like a fool.

Regardless, Galip’s confines were quite cozy and the Senator didn’t seem to care that he was being escorted to Vulpezzia whether he wanted to or not. He was either the biggest moron I ever knew or a shrewd, pragmatic fox who knew when to bend with the wind. Perhaps if I lost, he would claim to be a hostage, which I seemed to be playing along with.

Not that it mattered in the end. All that did was me taking hold of the Republic as my rightful own and settling my scores.

We had a bit of fun when we approached the border to Italia. Being that it was bordering Dalmatia, one of the many Republics that made up the Grand Republic, there wasn’t much of a garrison on the lookout for trouble, no doubt assuming Dalmatia would have sent word if I had begun marching.

Most of the soldiers surrendered the moment they could smell our horses but a few tried to be heroes and grabbed horses, kicking them into a gallop so they could warn Vulpezzia. Their efforts were in vain, Taj lead a detachment of light cavalry and less than an hour later, brought the soldiers back in nets or chains fastened to her horses.

As they were laid before me, I granted them clemency in a grand manner, for they were only doing their job. They were put under watch in relative comfort as their rank warranted and one lucky guard had the honor of catching Taj’s eyes and enjoying an evening of comfort with her and I. No doubt the fox found himself quite confused at getting rewarded for failing to do his job but he would be grateful in the end.

There was absolutely no doubt in my mind that Vulpezzia was aware already, especially since I sent out numerous messengers and wanted them to know I was approaching , but I wanted it to be on my terms, not on the whims of frilly naval guards under Philippe’s control.

I had heard he was quite decadent as of lately. What was it again? That he liked to have his guards roam around with gilt cockle shell pauldrons?

Trieste surrendered without so much as an indignant snort from me at its city walls. The magistrates came out and greeted me as their lord and savior, offering soothing words and nothing but ignorance regarding the position of Republican troops.

They were lying, I knew it, but doing too fine of a job to punish them for it and there was precious little time to torture the truth out of them. None of my messengers to Italia had returned, let alone any sent to Francia or Iberia. I hadn’t expected them to, but there was a good chance they were captured by the Republican army.

I pondered this over with my command staff but could not come to a conclusion. Sending the messengers into the deepest reaches of the Republic was a guarantee for them not to return and as a result, we could not come to any conclusion as to the enemy’s position. Vito hypothesized that they would be somewhere between here and Udine, arranging for a decisive battle as Philippe’s waterlogged head would no doubt believe in forcing to end things here and now.

Many a long night I was seated at late night map discussions with them all. Watching them arguing over the most minor of details such as if to take this pass or that. I spent most these in silence, letting them duke it out and went with who ever won out.

Throwing all your coin on one decisive battle was idiotic but it was dangerous as well. The roads going to Udine were narrow and it would make maneuvering difficult for my forces, while Philippe’s could turtle and wear us out.

It was a distressing thought, losing to a static defensive formation, but this was one of the few times when it would work quite well. All they’d have to do is maintain formation and laugh at Marco and his pretty horses getting poked with their pikes every time we attempted to advance.

With much hesitation, I split the army into two. I would lead the advance along the southernmost road while Vito would lead his detachment over a road to the north, up in the hills. The supply train would be split as well, which was extremely dangerous, but necessary.

Immediately, things went wrong. Originally, we were going to communicate with the other detachment via cries and also by sending messengers up through the side-roads to exchange information. Neither worked, we couldn’t hear them and presumably they couldn’t hear us and most of the side-roads were in various state of sabotage.

It was a moment like this I wished we foxes had picked up on the wolf howling code’s use. Two wolf armies could signal one another through toned howls. We still struggle to decode their meanings.

Fears of Vito’s unit being annihilated began to grow in the pit of my stomach. I tried to keep cool but I could hear the soldiers whispering about the possibility as we advanced further and further to my waiting prize.

Scouts were dispatched both ahead of us and behind us, to make sure no one was trailing us. Neither returned.

A grim sign...

I began to isolate myself at night, smoking a much needed pipe of opium to steady my nerves and enjoying the soft embraces of Galip and Taj. There was no finer way to forget your worries than chain-tying three canines together, with my knot in Galip’s rear and his own tied up in Taj’s vagina.

At the very least, if we were ambushed, it would be a good way to go out. With some opium I could easily make my end eaiser. Not that I needed to.

We pressed on, the army beginning to reek of fear and cowardice as we drove further into Italia. Any moment, I expected us to be attacked and be driven into the Trieste Bay. Frustrated was the only emotion I emitted.

Sistiana eventually showed itself on the horizon and with Vito’s unit waiting for us, eradicating any such fears. We never did find out what happened to the scouts, perhaps they suffered accidents or fell prey to bandits?

Vito had, much to my relief, arranged the liberation of Sistiana already, with only a few dissidents executed. The town was small and not worth regarding except in the fact that it was now on our side.

I had a chat with one of the dissidents, a proud garrison commander who was loyal to Philippe to a fault. His eyes were as orange as the sun with a fiery defiance to them, as he was marched out of the city towards my camp. His former guards, who were much more amenable to my promises of gold and glory, spat on him as he passed them.

He was forced onto his knees before me and I finally asked him.

“What it it about Philippe that inspires such loyalty in you?” I laughed. “He denied the soldiers their pension, prevented the Republic from reclaiming her territories, and all for what? He has failed to prevent war and your own soldiers have abandoned him without so much as a hint of resistance. Why? Why do you persist?”

The commander did not hesitate for a second, “Philippe was appointed by the Senate, you were not,” he spat out rabidly while shouting out ‘tratior’ to my very muzzle.

“Wrongfully appointed,” I rubbed at my claws, “his little stunt in allowing the Alphate navy to be vanquished within viewing distance of the capital stole him the votes.”

“As opposed to your little stunt you did in the capital?” the commander spat. “Your Triumph?”

“That was different.”

“You’re right, that lost you votes if anything.”

One of my soldiers cracked the fox across the snout with an armored paw. The commander whipped his face back, blood trailing from his nose across his white muzzle. His eyes stared at me, nothing would kill his resistance.

“Easy now,” I waved to the soldier. I was strong enough to take a few jabs from a defeated foe.

“War only benefits those in power and the wealthy,” the commander continued, “the only reason Philippe’s peace is failing is because of you. Why should any fox shed blood for land we’ve lost centuries ago?”

“How much does a garrison commander make?” I asked.

“Not much.”

“But more than the average soldier under your command, yes?” I didn’t let him answer. “Your own soldiers, the truly poor, seem more than eager to wish to fight for land. They see a future where they can have their own homestead, free of the predatory landlords they rent from. They want to fight for this.”

“Where the poor go, the rich follow to exploit them. You’re a fool if you believe this will solve anything, but I doubt you truly believe it.”

“I do.”

I said that with such conviction that the commander’s eyes twitched for the first time that day. For once, he was shocked, but only for a moment.

“I have nothing more to say, get it over with.”

I released him, unlike some of the other dissidents. He had no real power in the end and I wouldn’t give him so much as a thought for the rest of my life.

My assumption that Philippe would choose to make his stand somewhere in Udine proved correct. Deep within the plains of Udine, less than a day’s march to the city itself, the banners of the Grand Republic flew across the narrow Natisone River.

As we set up a temporary headquarters in a town on our side of the river, evicting some squatters from the town hall, Laurent came in with a report of which Republics were present.

“Lombardia, Vulpezzia, Tuscany, Roma, Napoli...”

Luce frowned and twitched her ears as her own Senate seat’s name was listed off.

“...Syracuse and Provence.”

“Fuck...” I whispered, peering out the window towards the bridge where the banners flapped, “...Philippe really wants to end this here and now.”

“No sign of Sardinia and Corsica?” Luce asked, rubbing her lightly swollen belly.

“Not that we could tell, but we can only get so close,” Laurent apologized.

“Perhaps they’ve seen the light?” I pondered.

Vito cleared his throat, “Most likely they’re using logistical excuses to stay out of it, being islands and whatnot. I suspect they’ll show up to support whoever happens to have won after the battle is over.”

“Or whoever might seem to be winning,” Luce muttered, “we can’t rule out they might show up as reinforcements. There’s danger of the Francian Republics having troops on the way as well, besides Provence. Perhaps even Iberia too.”

“Did none of them vote for me?”

“Granada,” Luce yawned, “otherwise, no.”

“Is there a chance they might have gotten our emissaries and changed their minds?”

“No,” Luce said bluntly.

“Not even a slight chance?”

Shrugging, Luce continued, “Why should they care about wolven expansion? The Republics there are more focused on repelling ursine raiders and focusing on trade across the ocean. Diverting resources to a war in the East will only piss them off and they can press-gang any veterans who have had their pensions denied into going on voyages to America. Why should they support you?”

“Fair point,” my false eye began to chafe and I adjusted it in the socket before turning to Laurent. “What about Philippe, did you spot him in command?”

“Marshal Aberto was spotted drilling his troops,” Laurent paused, “all reports say that Philippe is still resting in luxury off the coast of Vulpeculae in his pleasure ship.”

I clicked my tongue, sneering, “Why would anyone die for that worm?”

“Aberto...” Vito trailed off, “the Normandie Wall.”

“A fine choice for Marshal,” I added, “if you’re the type who likes to sit still and let the enemy come to you.”

“Which is exactly what we need to do,” Vito countered, “and what they want us to do.”

I looked over the map, hoping to find some other way of subverting the enemy’s plan. South of us was the Palmanova Lagoon, with its sunken ruins of dead human cities; perhaps a thousand years ago I would have sent Vito through it and attacked the enemy from the Torre river, surrounding them.

I could not turn back time, it was pointless to even think about it.

But there was something on the map that stood out, something that stirred the embers of my mind. I had no idea if it would burst into flames or merely fizzle out, but it had to be worth pursuing.

“Laurent, dispatch scouts along all the roads surrounding us,” I pointed on the map, “get a count of any forces spotted along with any sentries.”

“As you wish, Marshal.”

“Have them measure the water depth as well.”

“Pardon me?”

I smiled at Laurent, “I think I have a plan.”