Parno's Gambit: The Black Sheep of Soulan: Book 3

by N. C. Reed

  “You mean my rooms,” Parno shot back playfully, still trying to lighten things a bit. He was right, he knew it and he wasn't going to change his mind. That didn't mean he wasn't going to try to be peaceful.

  “Fine, I'm going to your rooms!” she huffed. “You aren't going to listen and I'm tired of talking to someone who won't see reason or look past their own selfish needs and desires. Good night.”

  “Selfish?” Parno's face betrayed his shock. “Selfish?” He looked up only to see her headed for the door.

  “Are you really leaving like this? I 'll be gone at sunup,” he said to her back as she pretty much stalked toward the door.

  “And the sun can't rise too soon!” she almost snarled. “Have a safe trip,” she hissed, not bothering to look back, seconds later slamming the door behind her. Things had happened so quickly, escalated so rapidly that Parno was still sitting in his seat. For a moment, he was simply stunned, not knowing how to react to what had just happened. Gradually however he felt his temper rising and soon was eating again, stabbing at his food with real anger.

  “I knew better,” he told himself. “I knew better and did it anyway.” There was a reason he didn't trust people or let them get too close to him. He couldn't trust them.

  The one person he actually trusted more than any others had just slammed the door in his face after calling him selfish. He had known that becoming involved with her was a bad idea, yet for just a while he had allowed himself to believe that it was going to be okay. That despite everything that was happening, he had found someone that would treat him decently. Even love him.

  Now, because he wasn't in a position to immediately do what she wanted he was selfish? All his life he'd been looked down on for doing the 'wrong' things, and now it seemed he'd get the same treatment for desperately trying to do the right things as well. Parno took a few seconds to review what he'd said. How was anything he'd said in any way selfish? Just because he didn't agree with some desperate, last minute effort to marry and create a child? Bring a child into a world that he wasn't even sure he could protect and preserve smacked of irresponsibility. How in anyone's estimation was that selfish? Wasn't refusing to give in to your own base desires the exact opposite of selfish? He closed his eyes for a moment to try and fight off the stress induced headache he felt coming.

  This night had started so well. He had been completely blindsided by Stephanie's anger and her lashing out at him, but it was her comments that actually hurt him. He had trusted her. Believed her when she said she loved him. Wanted to marry him. To make a life with him.

  Once more in his short life someone he had placed his faith in had turned their back on him at a time when he most needed them. Needed their presence, their understanding, needed their support.

  “I will never learn,” he said aloud to himself as he flung his utensils down on the table in disgust. He stood, cleaning his face and hands with his own napkin which was then slung on to the table top. His appetite was gone and his head was hurting, and though he would never admit it his heart was aching as well. But he had a cure for that.

  “Never again,” he swore to himself as he left the small dining room to return to the apartment he'd been using, needing only to see his brother first.

  “Never again.”

  ~*~

  “You look unhappy brother.”

  “Do I?” Parno asked as he settled into a chair across from Memmnon. “Can't imagine why.”

  “Sarcasm,” Memmnon nodded. “Classic defensive mechanism against-”

  “Spare me,” Parno cut him off with an upheld hand. “I'm leaving at sunup. Any last orders or advice?”

  “You are in a snit, aren't you?” Memmnon's face wore a slight grin.

  “I 'll take that as a no,” Parno sighed, preparing to stand again. “I'm too tired for verbal fencing, Memmnon. Tired and have a headache.”

  “I understand you caught an Imperial spy today,” Memmnon changed the subject.

  “Had him caught, yes,” Parno nodded. “I gave him to Grey. He was talking when I left.”

  “So I understand,” Memmnon snorted. “Something about torture and foreign devils?”

  “No accounting for what the Nor teach their young,” Parno shrugged.

  “I suppose not,” Memmnon nodded. “I assume you will be going ahead with your plans as soon as you reach the army?” he changed the subject again.

  “Yes,” Parno nodded. “I have almost decided to move the training site, but otherwise nothing has changed. And I'm not certain I 'll change the site, either,” he admitted.”

  “What are the advantage to either?” Memmnon asked.

  “Sending them to Cove gets them away from the front so they can train in relative peace, and puts them at a higher elevation which will be cooler with the coming summer,” Parno noted. “On the other hand, leaving them in the west puts them closer to where I might need them in times of urgency. It's a toss up,” he admitted.

  “Can you not do both, assuming that sending 2nd Corps to Cove would leave you enough instructors to train 1st Corps behind the lines once Freeman's troops are on the line?”

  “Take both off the line at the same time?” Parno raised an eyebrow.

  “As you said, it's a gamble either way,” Memmnon shrugged. “And I'm not offering suggestions or orders, Parno. Just asking.”

  “It's worth considering,” Parno admitted. “2nd Corps would almost certainly benefit from being sent to Cove. They're worn out and their losses have rendered them nearly ineffective on the Corps level. Giving them time to incorporate new troops into their ranks before they have to fight again would be ideal.”

  “So it would,” Memmnon nodded in agreement. “Whatever you decide to do I trust your judgment,” he added.

  “Amazing what a year and an invasion can accomplish,” Parno snorted at that and Memmnon nodded.

  “So it is,” he settled for saying. He would not be drawn into an unproductive argument. The past was behind and Memmnon could not change it no matter how he might wish he could.

  “Well, I'm going to retire, I think,” Parno stood. “I'm tired and I have a long way to go over the next several days and a great deal to get done.”

  “Sleep well and travel safely, brother,” Memmnon stood, offering his hand. “Good luck.”

  “Thanks.”

  ~*~

  “Well, you're in a funk.”

  Winnie's voice was almost amused as she watched Stephanie slam items around in their shared sitting room, her face marred with anger and eyes red with unshed tears.

  “I take it you didn't have any success with your campaign?” Winnie tried again.

  “Oh no!” Stephanie's voice was full of sarcasm. “I had great success in discovering what a pig-headed, obstinate, disagreeable ass my 'affianced' really is.”

  “My, you are in a snit tonight, aren't you?” Winnie mused, keeping her distance from the irate physician. It might have disturbed her to know just how much like Memmnon she sounded at the moment.

  “I am not in a snit!” Stephanie snapped. “I'm mad!”

  “Yeah, I got that,” Winnie nodded. “I take it you're still single.”

  “Shut up!” Stephanie growled. She sat heavily on the sofa across from Winnie and hugged a pillow to her torso tightly, clinging to it as if she would die if she let go. Suddenly she burst into tears. Winnie frowned, rising to her feet and going to sit beside her friend and mentor, wrapping an arm around her shoulder.

  “I made a terrible mess of things,” Stephanie admitted between sobs. “I was so mean to him!”

  “Why would you be mean to him?” Winnie asked.

  “I didn't like what he was saying,” Stephanie admitted. “It was true, but I didn't want to hear it so I walked out on him. After I had said some terrible things to him,” she added.

  “I see,” Winnie hugged her tighter, fighting a grin over her friend's head. Leave it to Stephanie to get mad over being told the truth.

  “He's leaving in the
morning and all I could do was be angry with him,” Stephanie continued.

  “Well, you can't let him leave with things like that between you two,” Winnie declared flatly. “It's not right. Not for either of you. You can't let that fester while he's gone. You need to make it right.”

  “How can I make something like that right?” Stephanie asked, sitting up and wiping her eyes.

  “You need to be waiting for him when he gets ready to go in the morning and admit you were wrong, then apologize,” Winnie shrugged, stating it as if it were the simplest thing in the world. Which to her it was. “That's a good place to start.”

  ~*~

  “What an interesting look,” Karls observed when Parno stormed into the sitting room of the visiting dignitary's quarters that he and his entourage were sharing.

  “Shut up,” Parno growled, though without the heat he might have used with Memmnon or someone else he wasn't so close to.

  “And an attitude to go with it,” Karls nodded, unperturbed by the response. “Bad meeting with your brother? Or bad news from somewhere?”

  “Neither,” Parno sighed, plopping down on a stuffed chair near the window. He rubbed his temples but his headache was there to stay a while it seemed.

  “Dare I ask then what it is that has caused this?”

  “I had dinner with Doctor Corsin,” Parno told him.

  “I can see how that would leave you in such a state,” Karls nodded, carefully not reacting to Parno calling her 'Doctor Corsin' rather than Stephanie like usual.

  “We had an argument,” Parno clarified absently.

  “Well that's not really a new development,” Karls smirked. “I mean the two of you used to have some really epic arguments at Cove Canton.”

  “Not like this,” Parno shook his head. “Doesn't matter,” he suddenly stood again. “Not long ago I was looking for a way to make her see sense and realize that I wasn't a good match for her. This should probably do it,” he said with a careless shrug. Karls had to work to hide his concern at that statement.

  “Parno, I know you don't mean that,” he chose to say.

  “Sure I do,” Parno said absently. “She's better off with someone who can give her what she wants isn't she?” his tone was suddenly very reasonable. Too reasonable. “I think she made it clear tonight that someone isn't me. Suits me if that's what she wants,” he shrugged.

  “Now Parno, don't be making hasty decisions,” Karls was becoming more concerned by the minute. Parno wasn't usually so. . .accepting about something like this. So fatalistic.

  “We're leaving before sunup,” Parno ignored Karls' statement. “There will be enough light for us to make it out of the city and be on the road north by dawn. That's what we 'll do. Have the word passed to everyone if you will. Be ready to ride an hour before dawn. I want to be on the road as soon as we can. I need to get back where I belong. We've been away too long as it is. ”

  “Of course,” Karls knew when to let go of a subject. He would try again tomorrow. He rose from his seat.

  “Do you want everyone else notified?” Left unsaid was that 'everyone else' meant Stephanie Corsin.

  “No need,” Parno said over his shoulder, moving toward his bedroom. “We don't need a send off. I'm going to bed. I've got a terrible headache that won't go away and I no longer seem to have a doctor to help with that so I'm going to lie down. And I don't want to be disturbed by anyone other than the King. Pass the word to the guard. Anyone,” he stressed just before he shut his door.

  “Alright,” Karls said to a closing door. He stood there for another minute, concern for his friend etched on his face. He knew that friend well enough to know, however, that pursuing it would not bear fruit. That in mind, he pulled on his boots and headed for the door to pass messages to everyone who needed to know they would now be leaving some two hours earlier than previously planned.

  He would skip the fatalistic attitude that his friend and commander now seemed to have.

  ~*~

  The group of horsemen was challenged by a sentry standing in the middle of the road. The lead rider drew reign, calling for a halt.

  “Advance and state your business,” the sentry stated tersely. A single rider left the group and rode into the torchlight.

  “I'm General Freeman, soldier,” the rider said tiredly. “On my way to Army headquarters by orders of the Lord Marshal.”

  “We're expecting you, sir,” the sentry snapped a salute. “You are still about two miles distant from General Davies' headquarters. Stay on this road and it will take you straight there with no troubles, the road is lit the whole way. Expect to be challenged at least twice more on the way. Security is especially tight because of the presence of Tribal horsemen among the Nor.”

  “Tribals?” Freeman scowled. “What are those devils doing among. . .well, no matter,” he waved the question away as irrelevant. “We 'll be watchful. My troops are still on the road even in the growing dark. Some of them will no doubt attempt to push on in an attempt to make it here tonight. And there's a cavalry division not more than five miles behind I'd imagine.”

  “Very good, sir,” the sentry nodded, standing aside. Soon Freeman and his men were on their way again.

  “Tribal warriors among the heathen, eh?” his aide mentioned casually. “Sounds like the war is a bit more serious than we've been hearing, sir.”

  “Does, doesn't it?” Freeman admitted. The last they had heard was that a major cavalry battle had been fought and won by the King's youngest son of all people. Freeman had also heard about the Pyrrhic naval victory fought by Rafe Semmes. He had tried to get to Savannah to see Semmes but orders to move north were already waiting, pending the news from the Navy engagement thus Freeman had put his men on the move the very next morning. Now, almost five weeks later, he was within walking distance of his destination.

  The next challenge was from a Captain rather than a sergeant and Freeman informed the officer that if an area had not been set aside for his men to make camp, please see that one was. The Captain promised to see to it at once and waved the General of 5th Corps onward.

  The last challenge was by a Major, who saluted and gave more detailed directions to General Davies' tent.

  “Davies?” Freeman frowned.

  “General Davies is Commander of 1st Army now, sir,” the officer informed him. “Also in command of this front in absence of the Prince.”

  “The Marshal isn't present?” Freeman's frown deepened. Where in the hell was the Playboy Prince while the Soulan Army was engaged in a fight for the Kingdom's survival?

  “Expecting him back soon,” the man informed him. “He had to ride to Nasil on summons of the Royal Couriers, sir.”

  “Ah,” Freeman nodded. That explained it. Not even Parno McLeod ignored a summons of the King. Whelp probably would be disrespectful once he got there, but he would go, nevertheless.

  “Thank you, Major.”

  “Service, sir,” the man bowed slightly, then saluted. “You may pass,” he said with a tired smile. Freeman laughed and led his company sized escort on. Ten minutes later they were dismounting before a large but otherwise nondescript tent that was marked as important only by the four man guard at the entrance.

  “General,” the Sergeant at the flap snapped to. “We've informed General Davies of your arrival, sir. He's waiting for you now.”

  “Very good,” Freeman nodded. He turned to his aide.

  “With me,” he said simply, then to his escort commander, “Care for the horses and find us a place to billet tonight. We 'll establish our own quarters when the train arrives.”

  “Sir,” the Captain nodded and led the General's horse away, followed by his men.

  “Well, lets see what the story is,” Freeman sighed and stepped inside.

  The cavernous tent was glowing with the light from several lanterns and lamps. Boards were set on easels throughout with maps displayed. Some notated friendly positions, others suspected enemy positions. Still others showed geographical fe
atures that might be beneficial or problematic to the army in defending their ground. Freeman nodded in appreciation at that.

  “Hello Willis,” Bryce Davies said warmly. “Good to see you,” he offered a hand.

  “I should be saluting you, apparently,” Freeman grinned at his old friend and classmate. “I hear you command an army now and not just a corps.”

  “That is true,” Davies nodded. “Though half of my 'army' is camped behind the line now, recovering from their efforts to stall the Imperial advance.”

  “Losses?”

  “Fifty percent overall,” Davies said grimly. “We 'll get some of them back but. . .a lot of them are gone.”

  “I'm sorry, Bryce,” Willis Freeman said sincerely. A good general never took losing men lightly.

  “Me too,” Davies nodded. “You have to be tired,” he changed the subject, noting Freeman's dusty appearance.

  “We've seen some miles,” Freeman agreed. “My men are still two or three days out in some cases, but some of my cavalry should arrive later tonight, nothing happens. Them and their horses are worn out, but they 'll be here.”

  “We 'll give your men time to rest before placing them into line,” Davies promised. “Say five days, starting tomorrow. I know that means not every unit will get five days, but it should let them get some rest at least. After that, we 'll feed you into the line, replacing 1st Corps for the time being and allowing them the time to rest and refit. They've fought two major engagements, the last one being a real brawl that saw the enemy knocking on the door. Their losses aren't as bad as 2nd Corps, but they're bad enough.”

  “I see,” Freeman nodded. “Last I'd heard was about the Playboy Prince leading a cavalry charge against the Nor.”

  “Watch how you say things like Playboy Prince, Willis,” Bryce warned casually. “The Army loves him and would take offense to anything that sounded like a slur. And yes, he led that one himself. Gave the Imps a thorough lashing, too.”

  “So what was the second engagement?” Freeman, nodding his acknowledgment of Davies' warning.