Lord of the Oasis Chapter 5

Kant’s lips curved into a slight smirk as he observed Rowan, whose expression was one of utter bewilderment. He found Rowan amusing, yet his own demeanor remained composed. Despite a hint of worry etched on his brow, Kant revealed, "In truth, much of our water supply has been depleted on this journey."

"How much do we have left?" Rowan’s face fell, his mood darkening.

"Not enough," Kant confirmed.

The ambient temperature outside soared to a scorching 158 degrees Fahrenheit, yet the interior of the tent remained remarkably cool.

A heavy silence settled between the two men, neither finding further topics for discussion.

Rowan’s countenance grew sullen, resembling a thundercloud pregnant with an impending storm. He understood the dire implications of insufficient water in their current predicament. It wasn’t merely about the physical sensation of thirst; it signified that their reserves would soon be tested, forcing them to fight with the last of their strength.

His seasoned senses, honed by countless battles, readily grasped this grim reality.

Over fifty Jackalans had been sighted in the dunes not far from the Oasis Lookout. This indicated that the Jackalans had long since seized control of the outpost.

"So, that's how it is."

Rowan eventually offered a resigned nod, meeting Kant’s gaze with a crestfallen expression. "Indeed, grave news, my Lord."

"Yes, grave news it is," Kant concurred.

The air in the tent remained cool as Rowan clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "However, my Lord, are you not concerned?"

"Concerned? Concerned about what?" Kant inquired, feigning ignorance. "What reason do I have to be concerned?"

"Heh."

A dry chuckle escaped Rowan at the infuriating irony of the situation, a surge of frustration building within his chest, threatening to erupt into a blaze of anger.

He was not ignorant of the unfolding circumstances; however, he felt powerless, both unwilling and unable, to alter the course of events.

Kant, after all, was a disgraced baron, the duke’s least favored, youngest son. Although Rowan might have privately wished the man dead, a justifiable reason was paramount. For instance, it would have been acceptable for Kant to perish at the hands of the Jackalans en route to his own territory. Yet, it was utterly unacceptable for him to fall victim to a knight of the Dukedom of Leo, especially one of such minor standing.

Kant was, by blood, a member of Duke Cameron’s lineage and, by title, a baron representing the Dukedom of Leo.

Kant had emerged victorious in this particular exchange. Such were the brutal realities of their world.

"We could make our way to the Oasis Lookout."

Kant continued, his tone betraying no hint of the gravity of their situation. "According to historical records, a spring can be found there." He paused, glancing at Rowan before proceeding. "Fresh, pure, high-quality spring water, so exquisite it could be used to brew fine wines."

"That is indeed fortunate news." From Rowan’s perspective, however, the details were utterly irrelevant.

Rowan harbored no desire to humour the baron any further. His expression grim, he posed the question, "My Lord, what is our course of action from this point onward?"

"We shall proceed to the Oasis Lookout," Kant replied, a smile gracing his lips.

"But my Lord, the Oasis Lookout is overrun by Jackalans. With our current numbers, we stand no chance against those savage beasts," Rowan stated, his impatience palpable as he laid bare the unvarnished truth.

Kant feigned surprise. "What?"

"My Lord, we both understand the gravity of our situation. Neither of us is a complete fool."

Rowan drew a deep breath. "We must eliminate the Jackalan Tribe at the Oasis Lookout, one way or another. Otherwise, we are destined to perish from thirst in the Nahrin Desert. None of us will survive this."

"This is a serious matter," Kant declared, lowering his head as if struggling to comprehend Rowan's words.

Rowan disregarded the gesture, pressing on. "My subordinates all have families, loved ones, and children. They deserve more than to languish here indefinitely. It would be a grave injustice to them." He fixed Kant with a stern gaze. "My Lord, I implore you to understand my position."

"The Jackalans have claimed the spring water at the Oasis Lookout for their own."

Kant nodded, seemingly in agreement with the exasperated sentiment. "We shall deal with these Jackalans. Afterward, you shall all be free to return home."

"Do you have a plan, then?" Rowan inquired through gritted teeth.

Given the circumstances, Rowan found it impossible to believe Kant had no alternative strategy. Furthermore, this young baron was the very source of their current predicament.

Kant, naturally, possessed further strategies to address the unfolding crisis.

Struggling to suppress his mounting anger as he regarded Rowan, Kant articulated, "We shall launch an ambush upon the Jackalans when they least expect it. The Jackalan Tribe remains unaware of our presence. Therefore, we shall lie in wait in the shadows. After all, we hold the element of surprise."

"An ambush?"

Rowan's voice rose slightly. "Our knights will sustain heavy casualties."

A deep breath was drawn by Rowan before he spoke, “Please be advised that we are only capable of mustering 20 knights for this undertaking, Your Lordship!”

“My own people shall be an integral part of this endeavor,” Kant stated with a composed demeanor. “Should our surprise attack prove successful, the Jackalans will undoubtedly descend into utter disarray. We will then proceed to eliminate them entirely before they can possibly regroup and mount a cohesive counter-offensive.”

“Are you referring to your populace, Your Lordship?”

Rowan's countenance was marred by undisguised mockery and derision. “I must concede, they possess a certain aptitude for agricultural labor.”

“They are also capable of combat,” Kant countered.

“Your Lordship, you are meddling with forces beyond your control here.” Rowan shot Kant a glare filled with indignation. “Such a course of action demonstrates a lack of responsibility towards my men.”

Kant met the man's gaze directly and replied, “It is either this, or we all succumb to dehydration in the unforgiving desert.”

“This is a perilous gamble with our very lives at stake,” Rowan's voice escalated slightly.

“That is the nature of warfare,” Kant responded without hesitation. He maintained eye contact with the middle-aged man while fumbling in his pocket for a coin purse. “Will this suffice?”

The purse, meticulously woven from robust linen threads, was relinquished. The distinct clatter of metal echoed as Kant tossed it.

“Well…” Rowan caught it, the substantial weight of the coins immediately apparent in his hand.

“This serves as a token of appreciation for the diligent efforts of yourself and your soldiers,” Kant declared. “It amounts to 20 Great Silvers.”

“Twenty Great Silvers?” Rowan's breathing quickened noticeably, as this was no trifling sum.

Their standard monthly remuneration was a mere 20 Small Silvers each. The established exchange rate between these silver currencies dictated that 100 Small Silvers were equivalent to a single Great Silver.

This considerable sum meant that every single knight would be receiving an additional five months' worth of their regular pay.

“I am aware that your duty concludes with our safe escort to the Oasis Lookout, thus this payment is for my hiring of your services.”

Kant regarded Rowan somberly and stated, “You should be able to appreciate that if our ambush achieves its objective, we may all emerge from this ordeal alive.”

The term “ambush” inherently signified a sudden, unexpected assault. Its meaning was as straightforward and unadorned as could be conveyed.

One might equally have termed it “surreptitiously approaching one's adversary.”

It was a strategic maneuver designed to inflict a decisive blow upon an enemy when one's own forces were significantly outnumbered.

The efficacy of an ambush was amplified exponentially when cavalry units were involved, owing to their inherent advantage of swift mobility. The impact of deploying such a tactic would have been unparalleled. This was precisely why Kant had gone to such lengths to orchestrate the current situation. His objective was to compel Rowan and his knights to remain.

An ambush executed solely by 10 Swadian Recruits and 20 Swadian Peasants would have amounted to a pathetic display.

“When shall we initiate this operation?”

Rowan's expression underwent a visible softening subsequent to securing the Great Silvers.

Addressing Kant, he proposed, “We must await the opportune moment when the Jackalans are at their most complacent. Dawn might present an ideal window for such an action.”

“Negative,” Kant immediately rejected the suggestion.

While the Jackalans might indeed be at their most relaxed just before dawn, Kant's contingent lacked the luxury of ample time.

“And why is that?” Rowan inquired, his brow furrowed. He possessed considerable confidence in his own battlefield experience.

Kant expounded, “The deceased Jackalans discovered near the dunes will have undoubtedly signaled the inhabitants of the Oasis Lookout. If none of them make their return by sunset, the Jackalan Tribe will readily surmise the presence of adversaries in the vicinity.”

Rowan’s breathing grew heavy as he pressed, “And when, precisely, should we execute this?”

“Sundown.”

After a brief period of contemplation, Kant declared with earnestness, “We shall launch our ambush as the sun begins its descent.”

“The twilight's embrace,” Rowan added thoughtfully.

“Precisely. The setting sun shall function as our covert ally. Its fading light will serve to obscure our advance.”

Kant drew another deep breath and articulated, “Under such conditions, they will possess insufficient time to detect our approach. At that juncture, your entire contingent need only charge forward with utmost alacrity, plunging the entirety of the Jackalan tribe into utter pandemonium.”

Kant paused momentarily before slowly continuing, “Following that, my contingent and I shall join the fray.”

A heavy silence descended upon the tent. A considerable duration elapsed before Rowan finally looked up and conceded, “Very well.”

“We shall not falter,” Kant assured, a smile gracing his lips as he met Rowan's gaze. “Have faith in me. This day's engagement will undoubtedly become one of your most cherished recollections, retold with gusto when your people gather for revelry in the tavern.”

Rowan emitted a soft chuckle and cast a glance at Kant. “One can certainly hope so.”

He then exited the tent, informing Kant, “We shall commence our preparations.”

“Indeed,” Kant acknowledged with a nod.

He found himself once more alone within the tent, his expression having transformed into one of profound gravity.

A brutal confrontation loomed on the horizon.

It was highly probable that some among the knights who had escorted them would meet their end. Similarly, casualties were to be expected among Kant's current Swadian recruits, whose primary duty from this point forward involved the construction of his estate.

One cannot navigate life without taking significant risks on at least a couple of occasions.

Kant inhaled deeply once more.

His decision to venture to the Oasis Lookout was, in itself, a gamble of considerable magnitude.

Possessing next to nothing, he still yearned to live. The sole path to a prosperous existence lay in dedicating his absolute all.

Kant's fingers brushed against the light crossbow positioned beside him, and a self-mocking chuckle escaped his lips. "Well, it's not as if a loss is a certainty, is it?"

He had journeyed this far with the singular aim of clinching a victory.

It was a triumph that he was resolved to achieve, no matter the expenditure.