by N. C. Reed
“Sir!” the man almost faltered as he passed over the stained and dirty page in his hands.
“Where are you coming from then?” Leman asked as he took the message.
“Brigadier Pierce's command, sir,” the man heaved. “Message about an attack on Nasil.”
Fighting the urge to panic Leman opened the message. In terse language Pierce informed the 'Commander of Cove Canton' that a large body of Imperial Cavalry had managed to move past his forces in the highlands and was now bearing down on the capitol. He was in pursuit but was outnumbered by a substantial margin so any forces that could converge on the city should do so without delay. Leman glanced at the sun and then pulled his watch from his pocket. If they left soon enough they should be able to get off the mountain before dark-
“You wanted to see us Colonel?” Chad's voice broke into his calculations and Leman nodded, passing the note to Wilbanks as senior man present.
“Nasil is threatened by enemy cavalry,” Leman told them bluntly. “Likely be in the city inside two days. There are to my knowledge only two regiments of troops inside the city, nowhere near enough for something like that,” he nodded to the letter. “You two had better get saddled and ready. Colonel Chad your men are already finished and General Wilbanks your men are trained and within two weeks of finishing. You get early graduation it seems,” he smiled weakly.
“So it would appear,” Wilbanks nodded. “We'll be gone in an hour,” he promised, headed to where his men were camped outside the walls.
“We'll be gone before that probably,” Chad admitted. “You better keep scouts out, Colonel,” he warned as he turned away. “This place will look good to a raiding force.”
“Will do,” Leman promised. “Let me know if you need anything at all.”
“Thanks,” Chad nodded and then went to find his men. He couldn't help thinking that Tom Hildebrand would be happy at last.
~*~
“It's not like this is your fault,” Whit told Pierce as they walked their horses for ten minutes to allow them to cool down some.
“Of course it's my fault,” Pierce replied at once, though without rancor. “I'm in command, and this was my mission. Prevent this very thing from happening. How is it not my fault?”
“I'm just saying that it's not like you started the damn war,” Whit shot back. “You were trying to stall a force that's easy five times our strength at least. They stole a march on you, yes. But waiting for them to hit you was about all we could have done. Had we tried to go and attack them we wouldn't have lasted twenty minutes and you know it.”
“Perhaps,” Pierce admitted. “Still, the responsibility was mine, thus the fault must also lie with me,” he shrugged. “I should have made sure what they were doing, and I didn't.”
Whit stopped trying to talk Pierce around as they stopped to remount. After that it was back to galloping for Nasil as fast as possible without killing horses, which made talk difficult.
He'd have to wait an hour to try again.
~*~
Tom Hildebrand looked at his commander with a stunned expression on his face.
“Say what now?”
“Get us ready to go Tom,” Chad urged. “The capitol is threatened by a large group of Imperial cavalry and our forces are out of place. Us and Wilbanks' men are all there are. We have to ride and right now!”
“Right!” Hildebrand jerked into motion. “I'm on it!” He grabbed his own kit and headed away at a run. Chad turned around to find Leman coming toward him.
“I've turned out two companies of the Regiment that are ready to ride with you,” he said without preamble. “They were recovered from wounds at the Gap and about to ride to the front to join the Marshal. They'll be going with you instead, since you're part of the Regiment now yourself.”
“I'd honestly forgotten that for a minute,” Chad nodded. He was now officially a battalion commander in the Prince's Own. Quite a step up for a militia commander. “We'll be glad to have them along but. . .are you sure you aren't going to need them here?”
“We have 2nd Corps and our own instructors plus the Women's Auxiliary. We'll be fine. And we'll have plenty of warning if they start up the mountain.”
“Fair enough,” Chad nodded. “2nd Corps?”
“I'm still checking but I doubt it,” Leman admitted. “I'm sure they're willing but the initial training has been hard on them and they weren't in the best shape when they got here. Plus one regiment from each brigade is making The March, so they're a day out at best. I'd expect them to follow possibly, but their strength is just about sapped.”
“Wilbanks' division is full strength,” Chad mused.
“But unblooded for the most part,” Leman reminded him. “Still, they've been through the regimen. They're tougher than when they first got here. It will have to help.”
“So it will,” Chad agreed even as a bugle sounded. “That's me,” he nodded toward the field. “We should be on the road in twenty minutes. Take care Colonel,” he offered his hand and Leman took it. The two had served at the Gap with the Marshal. That experience had bound all the survivors together into a brotherhood that nothing else could have formed.
“You take care, Bret,” Leman ordered. “We'll be just fine right here. And we'll watch over your families,” he promised.
“I knew that without asking,” Chad smiled. “We'll see you when we see you.” With that he took his saddlebags and ran toward the assembly.
Quartermasters and their assistants, including many of the dependents on the base, were busy handing out road rations to the men who stored them in saddlebags and sashes and packs against the hard days ahead. Even as that was being done Chad was speaking to his assembled company commanders, including the men from the original Regiment.
“This is how it is,” he told them flatly. “There's a great big bunch of Imperial cavalry, better than twenty thousands looks like, headed for Nasil right now. General Pierce is chasing them but he's outnumbered at least five-to-one looks like and his men are a collection of several smaller units rather than an actual division. Plus a lot of them are infantry that ride rather than cavalry. Be hard for them to engage trained cavalry, assuming the Nor give them the chance.”
“I got no idea what we'll find when we get there,” he admitted. “We might get there before them even. No way to know until we see. Assume the worst and that way we'll be pleasantly surprised if it's not the worst. Nasil is a fortress city and there are two excellent regiments there plus a smattering of Home Guard units and so forth so they're not completely helpless, but they are outnumbered.”
“Wilbanks and his bunch will be right behind us, we're not alone,” he reminded them. “That being said, I will be sorely disappointed if that bunch gets there ahead of us,” he grinned and was glad to see it returned. “Get back to your men and make equipment checks. QM should be issuing arrows and bolts to archers and crossbowmen. If you need anything else they should have it nearby. Get it in the next ten minutes because fifteen from now I plan to be out the gate and on the way. Now go.”
He watched them go, seven company commanders in all. He would have close to one thousand men with the addition of the ad hoc companies Leman was placing with him. Not bad.
And not a drop in the bucket to what he needed. But General Wilbanks had 1st Cavalry and they were almost ten thousand strong. A full strength, fully trained division, well mounted and ready to brawl. That would go a long way toward evening things out.
If they could all get there in time.
“I think we're ready, Bret,” Tom Hildebrand reported a minute later as he handed Chad the reins to his own horse, saddled for him during the meeting. “Quartermasters are almost finished I think. I started to issue lances, but. . .be a bitch to carry them so far. But a lot easier to draw some from an armory in Nasil anyway.”
“So it will,” Chad nodded, swinging into the saddle and storing his own supplied behind him. “You wanted action, Tom. Looks like you get your wish.”
“I wanted it while it would have gotten us out of some of that running,” Hildebrand snorted. “I feel cheated now, having to ride my ass off running to Nasil after I've already finished the training. Damn Nor can't do anything right.”
“Well, look on the bright side,” Chad smiled.
“There's a bright side?”
“We're going to get to kill a bunch of Norland troopers with this new found strength and what not.”
“Oh,” Hildebrand looked thoughtful. “I guess that is a bright side. Plus we get to do it in these natty new clothes,” he indicated his black and green 'Prince's Own' livery. “And we get our own Sheep, too,” he pointed to where their color guard was casing a brilliant green flag with the now famous Black Sheep logo on it.
“Pretty bright after all, eh?”
~*~
“Milord have you sent a message to your brother?”
Memmnon looked Brock behind him, standing in the doorway to the office.
“No, I haven't,” Memmnon admitted, turning to look out the window again. “There's no point.”
“No point?” he could hear the amazement in Brock's voice. “Sire, we're about to be attacked-”
“What would you have him do, General?” Memmnon turned again to face his Inspector General. “He is barely holding on as it is against far superior numbers. He needs every man he can get just to hold what he has and prevent the Nor army from bowling through us like a wheat cutter. What do you expect him to do? For that matter, a courier sent from here, assuming he made it, would take a minimum of two days to reach Parno. It would take at least that long for him to send relief and probably three days. By that time we will have either driven the attack off or we 'll be dead.” Once more he turned to look out the window.
“In either case, there will be nothing he can do. Parno has his hands full, General. We must look after ourselves this time. He has saved us more than once, starting well before the war even began. Surely we can protect ourselves just this once.”
“Yes sir,” Brock sounded a bit chagrined at that but Memmnon ignored it.
“How are the preparations going?” Memmnon asked, changing the subject.
“If we can get tomorrow to finish we 'll be set for the siege,” Brock replied, his tone turning business like. “The only thing that will really hurt is the storehouses. We can't possibly relocate all those stores in the time we have. We're trying to bring those that are in the possible attack route inside the citadel proper but we can't get it all. Assuming the Nor bother looking for them, I expect to lose them.”
“We will manage somehow,” Memmnon didn't allow any trepidation to show. “Our people are the important thing. I assume many are heading south?”
“Perhaps not as many as you think but a good few are,” Brock nodded. “A good many people are reporting here to help in whatever way they can. Their extra hands are going a long way toward helping us with preparations, including pulling stores from warehouses and getting them inside the walls.”
“What are our assets?”
“We have the Palace Guard and your personal regiment,” Brock reported. “Lady Winnie's female archers will help man the walls and there are nearly two hundred of them. I have one hundred seventy-one people of all ranks from the IG in the city. I've sent some of them with those fleeing to the south as guards and the rest will be here with us. There is also the city constabulary and of course the Royal constabulary. Those who aren't able to lend an effective hand in fighting will be able to help manage stores and carry supplies and what have you. Total effective fighting strength will be roughly three thousand two hundred and fifty, give or take. That includes Lady Winifred's archers and odd and end personnel in the city at the moment.”
“So few,” Memmnon sighed. “And Pierce has perhaps six thousand total?” he asked.
“Not quite I think, but around that,” Brock nodded. “I doubt they all make it here, though, sire. Some were foot infantry if I recall correctly. No way they make this trip so quickly.”
“So at the absolute best we are at a better than two-to-one disadvantage,” Memmnon mused.
“I'm afraid when you break those numbers down it's not quite that good, Sire,” Brock corrected. “All of the Imperial cavalry will be fighting men. Most of them with experience. Far too many of our number here are not soldiers, and most of our soldiers don't have any real combat experience. People in my own command for instance will not be nearly as effective in open combat because they simply don't have the training. It isn't what they do.”
“Can we hold the citadel at least?” Memmnon asked. He knew they couldn't hold the city proper.
“Sire, that's really a question for Colonel Stang to be honest,” Brock admitted. “He would be better able to answer that than I.”
“He's not here and you are,” Memmnon shrugged. “You may not be a soldier but you're very intelligent or you wouldn't be where you are.”
“I think we can hold here for a few days at least, and that should be enough,” Brock nodded, not bothering to reply to the compliment paid him. “Pierce is coming, and so is help from Cove Canton. Their help will probably be worth more than Pierce's in the long run simply by virtue of their training and experience. How long it takes them to get here will be the key. The best we can hope for is three days, probably.”
“So we must hold for at least three days,” Memmnon nodded. “Then we shall. Is there anything we need to be doing that I can help get done?” he asked. Stephanie had restricted his physical involvement, citing his still healing wound and the damage that could be done by putting forth such an effort and straining himself.
“No, Sire,” Brock assured him. “Everyone is working together quite well, in all honesty. We will be moderately well prepared even if they hit us tomorrow. If they give us until the day after, then our preparations will be much better and our odds of victory will improve considerably.”
“Then let’s hope we get that time.”
~*~
“What the devil is going on?” Roda asked aloud, addressing no one in particular.
“Looks like we're getting attacked,” Whip Hubel informed him quietly. “Look here, Roda. I'm gonna need to be headed up to the palace where my daughter is. I won't be down here while she's there through something like this.”
“Of course, of course,” Roda nodded, still shocked at what he'd been told. “But. . .we should be helping,” the inventor said. “We should be there helping.”
“Reckon they about got it covered, I should say,” Whip shrugged. “Doubt we could be that much help, and anyways most of the workers from the Foundry are already on the way out o' town, by order of the King.”
“We can help fight, Mister Hubel,” Finn informed him flatly. “We may not possess the strength of the modern soldier, but remember what we do here. We can help and we must.”
“I. . .I hadn't considered that,” Whip replied, his face showing his surprise. “Plum slipped my mind to be honest. What you got in mind?”
“We need to find a team of horses, no. . .we need two teams of mules if we can find them and perhaps a team of oxen. And as many wagons with the new springs as can be found quickly.” He was looking around him as he spoke. “Where are those two idiots?”
“Reckon they left with the others?” Whip asked.
“I doubt it,” Roda shook his head. “Why would they leave when they could stay and make my life that much more miserable bef-”
“Hey boss!” Carl called just then.
“-before I die,” Roda finished dramatically. “What is it?” he called back.
“Carl and me are gonna load some of the mines we were working on for the River Guard and take them up to the fort. Figured you might wanna go along.”
“Did you get the flint tipped arrows that must be used to fire them?” Roda asked with deceptive patience.
“Of course,” Billy looked pained at the question. “Already loaded.”
“And do you have cross bows?” Road asked.
; “We assumed they'd have some,” Carl almost smirked at his thinking. Roda wiped that smirk right off by yelling;
“And what if no one up there has a crossbow you moron!”
“Why wouldn't they have a-”
“Because,” Roda explained with a calm that was a danger signal to all who knew him, “they aren't a regular military unit, you imbecile! There may not be a crossbow in the entire place!”
“See, that's why we wanted you to go along,” Billy broke in before Roda could work himself into a frenzy. “You're so much smarter and think of more stuff. You keep coming up with that while we load the crossbows we keep here on the wagon, sir, and whatever you come up with we 'll see it gets done.”
As always the smooth work from the two long time assistants made Roda splutter and pop and as a result he fell silent.
“Reckon what we need them mules and such for, Roda?” Whip asked into the silence.
“We have two trebuchets on the test range that can be towed inside the citadel,” Roda informed him. “And there are a good number of rounds for them already prepared and ready to ship here in the Foundry. We need to get those pieces to the fortress and get a good wagon to haul the ordnance up there. They might be a great help in the next few days. And there may be a few other ways we can be of assistance as well, but I will need to see what is happening first.”
“All right,” Whip nodded. “You start preparing to abandon this place while I work on getting what you need down here. We 'll get 'er loaded up and get up there and see what's what.”
“What do you mean, preparing to abandon this place?” Roda asked.
“Well, I didn't figure you would want to leave your plans and such laying around for the Nor to steal was they to come in here and find 'em,” the archer shrugged.
“My prints!” Roda looked aghast. “My sketches! My books! Great stars above! I can't allow all that to fall into enemy hands! Good archer I must go and ensure that cannot happen! I leave the other details in your capable hands!”