They were half way up the hill before the arrows came raining down. Regis gripped his shield tightly as the first volley impacted against the shields. Wood and metal screamed. Men groaned and cursed around him. Boots squelched into the mud as guardsmen tried to stay upright.

Regis licked his lips and looked around. No one was dead in his group by the looks of it and none from the others as well. Libro's plan was holding shape so far, although these turtles of his were more akin to hedgehogs now. A fine misting of arrows protruded from the shield tops, feathers quivering in the wind. Culter and Civis had stopped momentarily, but they were gaining traction soon enough. Libro's group was still hot on his heels, thank the gods.

"Keep going, men! Don't let some fecking arrows scare you now!" The Greenhorns surrounding Regis were less inclined to boast and stomp than the Centums, but they gave their best regardless. He'd have preferred fighting with his band, but after the recent dispute between those two gutternuts, the young Chronicler needed the Centum's more than he did. Besides, nothing made a recruit more brave than fighting beside his Tribune.

Another volley of arrows rained down over the formation. Regis tensed up, felt the impact against his knuckles, spreading down his whole arm. From somewhere in the group, he'd heard a man whimper. A sorrowful lot these Greenhorns were. No doubt cropped up from the latest batch of recruits back in Byzantia. In Danic, you'd get your arse whipped for whimpering on the battlefield, but sadly, this was not his homeland. He would have to lead by example.

A scream ripped through the air from outside. Regis caught a glimpse of a shield slipping off of Culter's formation and thudding to the ground. Seconds later, a body appeared beneath rows of marching feet, trampled and broken with an arrow protruding from its neck.

"Damn it all," Regis swore. Someone must have panicked and lost their hold on the shield. Or perhaps the rebels were just that good with a bow. Either way, a guardsman had gone off to Nido, that greedy bitch of a Goddess. They needed to hurry before more felt inclined to meet her.

The arrows shifted focus. What was once a torrent had now become a drizzle as the rebels focused on Culter's group. Arrows sank into wood or plinked off metal rims, but some found their mark. Slowly, painfully so, the first turtle was beginning to lose its shell.

Regis had to think of something quick. "Double time, you mewling bastards! Pump those fecking legs of yours. I don't care if you stamp this whole damn hill down. Move!" Whether they were afraid of the arrows or afraid of him, the Greenhorns were more than happy to oblige. They pounded up the hill, feet slapping in the mud as they charged.

They were near to the top when the ground began to shake. Regis lurched forward, unsteady hands grasping hold to keep him upright. "What in all the gods was that?" He peeked outside, and what he saw sent a chill down his spine.

Rocks, and lots of them too, crashing down the hillside at a breakneck pace. They came in tumbling waves, skipping over the potholes and craters and gaining momentum. Regis barely had enough time to brace for impact. The first stone bounced up, crashed against his formation, and the shield wall burst apart.

Regis flew off his feet. He tumbled into the mud,  light and dark flashing in his eyes as he rolled down. The earth shuddered as stones and bodies crashed around him, spraying mist and filth into the air.

People were screaming all around him. He pulled himself up, vision blurry till he wiped the mud off his face. A stone came barreling towards him, and he threw himself to the ground to dodge it. Greenhorns and Centums alike picked themselves off the ground, fumbling for their shields, their weapons, looking at him for orders.

One guardsman came running up to him with an arm outstretched. He reached out, only for the hand to suddenly lurch away as a stone skipped past and caved in his skull. Hot, wet blood and brain matter spattered Regis in the face. The body lurched, crumpled, tumbled down the hill.

"God's damn it!" Regis pulled himself from the mud and looked around. The other formations were breaking now. Culter's group was in shambles already with Civis and his troops closing in to keep them alive.

"Regis!" Libro fell at his side, eyes boggling, teeth clenched in fear. "What happened? What the feck happened?"

"I don't know!"

"What do we do?"

"I don't know!" Regis sucked in a sharp breath. He needed to think. Needed to come up with a plan before everything went to shit. Unless it already had. The air hissed around them. Libro looked up to the sky, mouth going slack.

Regis lurched over to Libro with his shield raised as another volley rained down on them. His arm buckled against the impact as the arrows pinged off the metal, tumbling uselessly into the dirt beside them. More guardsmen began to scream. Others merely dropped to the ground, their death rattle swallowed up in the mud.

"Are you all right, lad?" Regis asked just as the last arrows dropped. Libro had his eyes screwed shut, lower lip trembling. "Come on now. Say something."

"I'm fine," Libro managed to squeak out. "I'm fine."

"Good. Now pick yourself up. We need to keep going."

"We can't." Libro's words were like a slap to the face.

"What?" Regis said through clenched teeth

"We can't do this. We have to retreat." Regis would have backhanded the boy for such cowardice, but looking around now he had to admit the boy was right. It was chaos all around them. Guardsmen lurched and screamed as arrows and rocks came careening down the hill. Civis was shouting orders, his words barely cutting through the noise. Culter was up to his ankles in mud, holding onto a corpse for cover. In no time at all, everything had gone to shit. Their plan had failed. No substance. Civis had been right all along.

With a trembling hand, Regis ripped the warhorn from his belt and blew a sharp, high note. The call for retreat. "Fall back! Fall back now!" The other guardsmen were happy to oblige, tucking their tails in as they ran for safety.

They retreated into the forest, far enough where the arrows couldn't reach them, where the stones tumbled uselessly into sunken ditches and gullies. Libro sat on a rock with his head in his hands, gripping at his curly dark hair in fretful bunches. Regis splashed some water on his face from a nearby stream, trying, and failing, to scrub the mud out of his beard.

There was a commotion from close by. Regis turned to see Civis stomping over,  face twisted in the ugliest, angriest sneer he'd ever seen. Libro had only a moment to look up before the Legate wheeled back and punched him squarely in the jaw. The Chronicler fell to the ground in a whimpering heap.

"You stupid fecking bastard!" Civis roared. He'd have kicked Libro in the ribs next had a few Centums not restrained him. They wrapped his arms in a vice-like grip and hauled him back. Libro pulled himself up, mud smeared across his face, blood dribbling from a split lip. "You could have gotten us all killed! You brainless idiot! You worthless fecking fool!"

"Get him out of here!" Regis roared, lest Civis do something he'd soon regret. The Centums hauled him away, all the while his ranting and raving echoed amongst the trees, till only the sound of the trickling stream remained.

Regis puffed his cheeks and shook his head. What a day this had come to be. A failure if ever he'd seen one. Already a few thin fingers of twilight could be seen poking through the forest canopy, spilling amber across the dark ground. He bent down and held a hand to Libro. "Come on, lad. Get up."

Libro wiped his nose, his eyes wet and red-rimmed. He shoved his hand away and picked himself back up. Regis pursed his lips. It seemed the boy still had some pride left in him. He watched on as Libro bent over the stream and cupped some water to his face.

"It was a good plan," Regis assured him. "They just...they just got the better of us, is all. I don't think that Captain of yours in the book had to deal with tumbling rocks."

Libro took a sip of water, washed his mouth, spat bloody phlegm back out. "Civis was right."

"Um?"

"He was right. It was a shit plan. It had no substance."

"Now I don't think," Regis began to say, but Libro was having none of it.

"Just stop already!" He turned on him, eyes suddenly hard and full of hurt. "Stop trying to make me out as something I'm not. I made a mistake, Regis. I got men killed. All over a stupid plan that I couldn't even come up with myself." The lad reached for the tome at his side, chains rattling as he held it in his hands. "Civis was right. I was never meant to be a soldier. Being a Chronicler is the best thing a coward like me could ever have in the Vangen."

A pause. "Is that it then?"

Libro turned his gaze up at Regis. "What did you say?"

Regis stepped up to the boy and pressed his face close. The hurt in his eyes quickly chilled into fear.  Libro backed up, feet sloshing in the stream till he'd bumped into a tree, eyes darting for a way out.

"I said, is that fecking it then? One failure. One fecking loss, and now you're just going to mope around like a cockless little shit in a whorehouse?"

"I—,"

"Shut your fecking trap when I'm talking to you!" Regis barked. Libro's teeth clicked as his jaw wrenched shut. "I'd have whipped your whimpering ass by now if we were back in Danic, but we're not so I'll have to use my words instead. Talk like that has no fecking place in the Vangen. You understand me?" Libro nodded his head. "The plan failed. Learn from it and don't make the same mistake again. Men die. That's what men do best. We didn't join the Guard expecting to die in our beds, but we certainly didn't join just to bitch and moan and cry like a bunch of spoiled children. You're a soldier whether you like it or not, boy."

Regis turned and stormed off, hands trembling, heart beating like a war drum in his chest. He'd never meant to get so angry, but seeing Libro the way he was, well, he just couldn't stand it any longer. Defeatism had no place in the Guard. It only got you killed quicker, and he had no desire to see the boy dead just yet. Not until he'd earned it.