"Food would be welcome, wine more so," Phaedra admitted. She pulled her helmet free and hung it from her saddle. Her hair, a dark lustrous black, was braided and coiled in a crown which sweat had plastered to her head. She gratefully took a a wet cloth from one of the protostates and wiped the spattering of blood from her face.

"We've army wine," Brasidas replied a hint of question in his tone. There were officers, Georgicus and his aristocratic ilk, who would sooner die than drink the harsh red that made up the standard army ration. The Miravet however were a frontier folk and wine of any kind was a luxury to them. Phaedra nodded gratefully, eager to wash the taste of dust from her throat. Brasidas led her back though the town. The damage of battle abated quickly, though the lack of civilians gave it an empty and haunted look. The entered a large square which fronted a modest temple, opposite the three pillared temple was a large stoa under which amphorae of grain, wine and oil had been stacked behind a barricade of wagons. A squad of Protostartes, all walking wounded, stood on guard, as much to keep their own soldiers from looting as to repel the enemy. They stiffened to attention as their commander approached though none of them actually saluted. They slid between two wagons and moved to a corner where several stools stood across a battered timber bar. Brasidas took a seat and Phaedra followed his examples. One of the soldiers ladled out two goblets of wine, not bothering to dilute it in the normal Imperial fashion. Phaedra drank gratefully, then squared her shoulder.

"I'm still waiting for a count," she began bluntly, "But I expect I have seventeen hundred riders still saddle ready."

"We had five hundred Keylaran's when we set out, garrison troops from Kestos," she explained, her voice so careful to avoid stressing the word 'garrison' that it was effectively a slap.

"Georgicus Andronikus was in command, but they vanished, deserted it seemed like," she continued.

"Right before we got ambushed by the Atvari, night before last," Phaedra explained.

"First?" came a woman's voice from beyond the barricade. Eudoxia pressed through the barricade, the soldiers didn't quite try to stop her, though they were clearly ready to do so if Brasidas offered any objection. Fortunately he chose not to.

"Eudoxia Eushenko, my second," Phaedra explained. Eudoxia gave Brasidas a measuring look but didn't salute.

"Zoe's back, she broke off a half hour ago, we have a hundred twelve dead, as many wounded," she reported. Phaedra nodded. It was actually better than she expected, better even than the ambush two nights ago.

"Let everyone out of discipline," she told her subordinate, "get some wine and food organized too."