Parno's Peril

by N. C. Reed

  And maybe they would. After the last time, Parno didn't pretend to know what was happening any more.

  The men were obviously tired, but even after the hard day they had endured, he could tell that morale was high. They had soundly beaten an army twice their size yesterday. They had every reason to feel good about that.

  He finally made his way to his own command tent, his once again now that Harrel was on his way south, and found breakfast waiting for him there. He ate alone, in silence, reading through late reports that had arrived in the night. Scouting reports mostly from men trying to get in close to the Imperial lines.

  It appeared that the Nor were in bad shape. Worse than he had first imagined, really. He would have to wait for Wilbanks' report to get a better guess at how badly the Nor camp had been damaged but so far things look promising.

  He didn't kid himself, however. The knockout punch he had hoped for had evaded him. The losses to his own army might be less than the Nor, but they were no less painful for it. His army was now significantly weaker than it had been just two days prior. The Imperial Army was as well, but they still had numbers. Hopefully not enough, and more hopeful still they had too many to feed, but until they could verify any of that, all he had was supposition.

  It would be a long day of waiting for reports and listening to reports and collecting information. Like a picture made from other pictures, he would have to assemble his overall impression from smaller impressions from all over the battlefield.

  Such was his life.

  -

  “We're making good time,” Winnie noted. They had been on the road for over an hour already.

  “This is a good stretch of road,” Case nodded in agreement. “Makes it easier to pull the wagons. We're moving at a good clip.”

  “Ever been to Jason before?” she asked.

  “Once, about seven years ago or so,” he nodded. “I was a new lieutenant at the time and made a sweep of the trade routes in the west. We stayed overnight in Jason, two nights really. It's a good-sized town. Largest in this area outside of Shelby.”

  “What's there?” she asked him, curious.

  “It's mostly agrarian,” he told her. “Livestock is a big thing there, but so are row crops, including silage. There are a lot of laborers that live on larger farms as full-time hands. Their pay isn't the best, but it includes room and board, which is a big deal.”

  “Sounds hard,” she commented.

  “It is,” he nodded. “Back breaking labor at times, and not a little dangerous, especially cattle work. Trail work is even worse. But that pays better, too.”

  “We have too little area for large operations like that back home,” she told him. “Like I said the other day, this is more flat land than I've ever seen before.”

  “Well, there's a lot of game here, too,” Case pointed out. “You'd probably enjoy it, other than it being a good deal hotter here than where you come from.”

  “The air is heavier,” she nodded. “I know that doesn't make sense, but it is.”

  “No, it is,” he agreed. “And the humidity is almost always going to be worse. It's just one more difference in a long line of them.”

  “How long do you think we’ll need to spend in Jason?” she changed the subject.

  “No way to know until we get there and see what we see,” he shook his head. “They may have a stockade already. Or at least a berm. May have an unorganized militia and be making patrols of their own. I know there is a small militia garrison there. Remember we asked for a squad of them to accompany the constable we sent for. But that garrison has a lot of ground to cover. I doubt more than twenty of them would be in town at any given time.”

  “It would be nice to find they're at least partially organized,” she admitted. “That would give us more time working with the people who might have come from other areas, answering the runners.”

  “The more we can reach, the better,” he nodded.

  “I guess we’ll just have to see what turns up.”

  -

  “I think we can slow down today,” Stephanie told Captain Winters as the carriage was being loaded and Harrel helped aboard. “I'd prefer we move more cautiously if possible, for Harrel's sake.”

  “We will,” he promised. “Yesterday was just to get ahead of any possible threat. I would say that things went pretty well based on what little I heard before we left. The Prince had a sound plan and good contingencies. If the Nor weren't careful then he mouse-trapped them nicely as they tried to attack.”

  “I hope so,” she sighed. “At any rate, thank you,” she smiled.

  “You're quite welcome, milady.”

  -

  Abe Springfield had met the new day with trepidation and soon learned he was right to do so. By nine that morning he had learned the total of losses for the Imperial 1st Army from the previous day of battle. To call them 'ruinous' was too kind.

  Ninety-four thousand, four hundred and twenty-eight confirmed dead. Thirty-eight thousand and twelve wounded, many of which were not expected to survive more than another day or two. More than half their original strength gone.

  Worse, the supply situation was at least as grim as the one he had painted for them the previous evening, and the medical situation was much worse. The lack of medical professionals was going to increase the number of wounded that didn't survive and the lack of supplies to treat the wounded would just add to that number. The men who were still fit for duty, and that was stretching the definition of 'fit' beyond recognition, wouldn't be much better off either, with everyone already on half-rations of normal servings. That was made possible only because their cattle held for slaughter were well away from the areas visited by Soulan cavalry. He could smell beef roasting even now and was keenly away that he was just as hungry as any of his men were.

  His messenger to Venable had left as soon as it was light enough to see, using one of the last fit horses in camp to ride for Unity and lay a message in Venable's hands as well as another for Baxter. There was some doubt in Springfield's mind that Venable would obey the command to return, denying Springfield's authority to issue such an order. Springfield didn't think Baxter would balk at taking orders from Springfield, but there was no real way to know until he saw what happened. Springfield suspected that once Venable had time to consider his position, cut off and beyond any hope of resupply, that he would see the sense in Springfield's orders and return as soon as possible.

  That was all he could do at this point. He had too much on him to worry about it any further right now. He did know that his men would have to start north in no more than five days or risk them being too weak from hunger to make the trip and still carry the wounded. Men were out with axes this morning to cut small trees to make the frames for travois that would be strung behind the horses that were capable of pulling them. Wounded men would be placed there along with the few supplies they still had, pulled along the road by horses that were all but incapable of doing anything else. There was no guarantee they could pull the wounded for that matter, but it was all he had for now.

  “Sir,” a voice broke into his thinking and he turned to see the leader of his engineer unit waiting to report, hand raised in salute.

  “Yes?” Springfield returned the salute.

  “Sir, we can I believe salvage at least thirteen wagon frames from the wreckage. Using smaller logs, we can replace the burned wagon beds and use them to transport many of the worst wounded. But not all,” he added sadly.

  “Anything you can make work is better than what we have now, which is nothing,” Springfield nodded in approval. “Go ahead and do what you can. Whatever it is, I'm sure the men will appreciate it.”

  “Yes sir,” the man nodded and went about his business. Springfield watched him go and wished for a minute he could change places with the man. How nice would it be to hand all of this over to someone else and just take orders again?

  “Sir,” yet another voice, with yet another report, or problem. Suppressing a sigh, Spring
field turned to see the next man.

  “Yes?”

  -

  “Well, Preston, it looks as if you took my order seriously,” Parno chuckled as he finished Wilbanks' report.

  “Damn straight... er, milord,” Wilbanks remember where he was.

  “You and your men may well have just ended this war,” Parno ignored Wilbanks discomfiture. “I don't know as yet what they will do, but my guess is they will go back north, assuming they have no large stockpiles of supplies nearby. Good work.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Wilbanks nodded.

  “According to this, you think you destroyed all of their artillery?” Parno asked.

  “All they had deployed at any rate, milord,” Wilbanks nodded. “Possible they have more that we didn't see, but anything they were using is gone. Burned and in some cases busted.”

  “Outstanding,” Parno nodded firmly. “Are your men okay?”

  “They are fit and ready for another go, sir,” Wilbanks sounded enthused. “I think they saw the results of their training pay off and now they're ready to go at them again.”

  “I like that,” Parno nodded. “But for now, rest your men and horses. If the Nor do take out for the north, we’ll hound them all the way, and your men will be in the van of that operation. So, refit, rest and be ready for orders.”

  “Yes sir.”

  -

  Parno read over his preliminary report once more, satisfied that he had left nothing of importance out in his dispatch to Memmnon. He included his own plans, contingent on what the Nor would do now, and how he expected things to progress if the enemy did as he expected.

  Finished, he sealed the report with wax and his signet seal, the seal of the Crown Prince no less, and slid it inside a leather case that would be given to a Royal Courier. With a deep sigh he leaned back a bit, stretching his back.

  “A weary sigh for someone who has won a great victory,” Cho Feng's voice immediately robbed him of any relaxation as he jerked upright to see the oriental man standing before him.

  “How the... you know what? I don't care,” Parno waved his hand tiredly. “And yeah, I am tired. Stress more than anything I guess. How are you?”

  “I am quite well,” Cho nodded. “What do you plan to do now?”

  “I'm going to rest my army for two more days while I wait to see what my enemy does,” Parno replied at once. “My men are tired and so are their horses. Their spirits are high, however, and I'm going to let them rest and enjoy it.” He rose and walked over to the map.

  “I expect the enemy to recall this group,” he pointed to Unity, “which of course means I destroyed a town for nothing,” he added bitterly. “They can't receive word of what happened here before this evening and more likely tomorrow before noon. I expect them to start back the next day, tomorrow assuming their rider makes it through by nightfall.”

  “Meanwhile, I expect the Nor still in camp to prepare to move north. Hopefully their plan is to leave Soulan altogether, but they should at least pull back to the Ohi, where resupply can be achieved easier. In the event they do withdraw, I'm going to hound and harass them all the way to the Ohi river, killing as many of their men as I can before they can cross over. After which I may burn the bridges there and at Shelby,” he added softly. Feng raised an eyebrow at this news.

  “I thought you wanted those bridges for what was to come next,” he said quietly.

  “And I may still,” Parno nodded. “But... I'm not sure I still want to do that. I'm not sure I want to be responsible for the greatest war on this continent since... well, I don't know since when,” he admitted. “And I'm not sure I want to put my army or my people through that again. Instead, I think I will concentrate on creating the most powerful army ever seen and hold them in preparation for when this could happen again.”

  “A strong standing army is costly,” Cho warmed.

  “So is an invasion,” Parno rebutted. “No matter if it's them invading us or the reverse. I want to destroy them, don't get me wrong,” he looked at his erstwhile teacher. “But the cost...” he shook his head slowly. “It has cost us so much so far. The cost to invade, to conquer... it would be worse. So much worse.”

  “It would,” Cho agreed. “It always is. You have but to look at your enemy to see it proven.”

  “Our navy has to rebuild and that will take time and money,” Parno went on. “We still have internal issues that have to be dealt with. And we need to strength our interior. The Nor very nearly were able to defeat us in one fell swoop because we don't have much in the way of interior defenses. I'm going to change that. I'm going to change a lot of things, in fact,” he added.

  “You will still invade the north, won't you, Parno McLeod?” Cho said solemnly and Parno looked at him.

  “You cannot hide it,” the older man said calmly. “Every preparation you have mentioned merely strengthens your position once you decide to take your men across the River Ohi into enemy territory. You have not decided against such a move, only delayed it until you are confident of victory.”

  “Maybe,” Parno said mulishly, refusing to admit that his teacher has seen right through him.

  “There is nothing wrong with making proper plans, young Warlord,” Cho chuckled at Parno's discomfiture. “Nor in making adequate and proper preparations. Your secret will be safe with me.”

  “Will you still be here to help me?” Parno asked him. “Or do you plan to return home if this is the end of our war?”

  “For me, this land has become my home,” Cho told him plainly. “I have no reason to return and every reason to stay. So yes, insofar as I am able, I will assist you. And should the gods allow it, then when you go north, I will ride at your side for so long as I am able to do so.”

  There was a comfortable silence between the two, broken only when Parno gave a quiet and heartfelt reply.

  “Thank you.”

  -

  “We’ll make camp here tonight,” Case said as he motioned for the wagons to circle on each other. “This is a good spot and there are two creeks, one to either side. We can get off the trail but still be right beside it. Easier to get moving come morning.”

  “Okay,” Winnie nodded. “It's pretty here,” she noted. “What are those buildings?” she asked, pointing to a collection of empty structures nearby.

  “Part of an old community that once stood here,” he told her, dismounting. “A very old community in fact. No idea how old that I've ever heard put into words. The buildings were strongly made and have stood the test of time. I daresay with a bit of work they could be made habitable again, should someone have the desire.”

  “Why come nobody does, then?” Winnie slipped back into her old way of speaking as she looked at the buildings.

  “No need for it,” Case shrugged. “There aren't a lot of people around here, really, and with the war on most of them are gone. This area is abandoned because there's no one around to live here.”

  “What's wrong with this place?” Winnie asked, correcting her way of speaking now.

  “I didn't say anything was wrong with it,” Case pointed out. “And as far as I know, nothing is wrong with it. There's just no one who wants to come this far out to live. It's a long way from anywhere out here.”

  “Okay, that is true,” Winnie nodded, dismounting to join him on the ground. “Still, if someone established a trading post here, right along the route, then that make this place more attractive for settlement.”

  “Might well do it,” Case nodded. “Be a good retirement project,” he added thoughtfully.

  “Hm,” Winnie nodded slowly. “Might at that. Convince retired military men to settle somewhere like this. Maybe as constables to patrol the trade routes even?”

  “Well... I hadn't thought of it in those terms,” Case admitted. “I was talking about the trading post and maybe some farm or livestock operations in areas where there's just not anything else going on.”

  “That too,” Winnie agreed. “Something to make note of, but we
've got more than enough on our plate for now I recko... I should think,” she corrected.

  “That is true, but it's still a good idea,” Case nodded.

  “I think I’ll have my secretary make a note of that,” she said finally.

  -

  General Peter Venable looked at the smoldering ruin before him and wanted to curse. He didn't, mostly because it would not look appropriate or professional for someone of his stature and rank to be cursing in the midst of his command staff and whatever soldiers were close enough to hear him.

  But he wanted to, nevertheless.

  Unity, the village he and his men were to occupy, was leveled. Smoke was hanging over the area like a thin fog and there were still small flames flickering among the ruins, but the town was, for the most part, ashes. Not a single building was standing. The fire had spread from the town, igniting several small grass fires that had burned themselves out, but the heat from the ashes indicated the damage was recent, perhaps even overnight.

  “What now?” Baxter asked him, eyeing the same ruins.

  “What do you mean?” Venable asked, turning to look at the cavalryman. “Our orders aren't changed.”

  “True,” Baxter nodded. “Still, we can't rightly occupy a village that doesn't exist anymore, can we now?”

  “That is true,” Venable nodded. “I suppose we make camp and send someone to tell Wilson what's happened. Meanwhile we... we secure this area and wait to see if we're attacked.”

  “I’ll have a few patrols out to scout the area,” Baxter nodded. “Make sure we're alone out here.”

  “Good,” Venable nodded. “Four days to get here and this is what we-,” he stopped as a rider came galloping up, almost sliding to a halt.

  “General Venable, sir,” the man saluted tiredly. “From General Springfield,” he handed over a messenger bag.

  “Springfield?” Venable's eyebrow rose at that.

  “Yes sir,” the man nodded. “He's taken command of the army, sir.”

  “What happened to Wilson?” Venable demanded.