by N. C. Reed
“Please show us, using this map General Turnbow, how you could have taken perhaps six thousand men and used them to completely block twenty-five thousand from making their way here,” Memmnon's hand gestured to the table as he cut the older man's tirade off. “I'm sure we will all be able to learn from your greater experience and ability.”
Turnbow's face reddened at that and he fell silent, glaring at his young king and then at the young brigadier in question.
“As I thought,” Memmnon's voice was cutting suddenly. “I grow weary of such posturing, gentlemen. I will warn all of you one last time; stop. Any more of it will see you looking for work yourselves. I have read Brigadier Pierce's report and am satisfied, despite his ability to portray himself as being at fault, that he did all he possibly could to prevent what happened here. I would remind you that his force was placed where it was to prevent raiding activity, not a full-fledged attack by more cavalrymen than we have ever seen the Nor manage to put together in anything like an effective fighting force. Yet he held them at bay for two days, and then managed to get couriers to us with two full days warning, arrived himself just a day after the enemy despite their being able to use a Trade Route while he was forced to use back roads and trails, then cross the river by ferry.”
“You have served Soulan well, General Turnbow, but please explain to me how you could have handled this any better. And if you cannot, then kindly keep your opinions of the men we are asking to defend us to yourself, hm?”
Chad watched in amusement as the King dressed the old general down, wondering if he was going to push the old man into a stroke. Suddenly Memmnon ignored Turnbow and turned to the rest.
“Rest and refit your commands tonight and tomorrow, gentlemen,” he ordered. “Day after, you have your orders. Godspeed and good luck. And with that I believe we are done here. Good day.” With that the King departed, his step firm and his back straight.
Glances were exchanged around the room except for a stunned Pierce, who had entered this room certain he would leave in disgrace. Instead, he had been complimented by the Crown and was retaining his command as well as his original mission.
Whit would get to say 'I told you so' tonight.
~*~
Admiral Raphael Semmes read the message in his hands for a third time, his face a mask. The only other man in his office was Commodore David, commander of the Key Horn Squadron, or what was left of it. Semmes looked up at the waiting commodore.
“Do you know this man, Chastain?” he asked. “I know him only barely, met him once. He falls under the command of Admiral Shirley at Moble.”
“I've met him, sir,” David nodded.
“Would he do something like this?” he handed the letter to David, who read it. The stunned look on his face as he finished was answer enough.
“Sir I. . .I can't imagine what the hell he was thinking!” David exclaimed.
“I don't really care,” Semmes said grimly. “For the moment I'd like to assume that his subordinate Captains aren't in on this, but I don't think I can do that just yet. What of your squadron can you put to sea with?”
“Sir I have two cruisers and three frigates that can be away in two days time,” David reported. “Three days would be better, ideally, as we are still repairing damage to spars and caulking seams. We also need to load stores and. . .I should have enough able bodies from ships that cannot make sail to crew them. We would need marines-”
“Get with Commodore Rhodes and poll the available sailors and marines from all three squadrons to ensure that your ships are fully staffed. Chastain has had twelve days already, so I need you to put to sea as soon as possible to stop him. You will stop him no matter what it takes. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir, Admiral,” David came to attention. “Will the Admiral be joining us?”
“No,” Semmes wanted to scream as he lifted his arm. “I am not fully released from the good doctor's care. With my ribs the way they are, I would be a burden to you, Anthony, as badly as I feel the need to be there. So go, stop this idiot, and return Therron McLeod to this base in chains. Or dead. After reading this warrant I don't care which and don't think the King does either.”
“Yes sir.”
~*~
“Report!” Stone called out as his men tried to make camp.
“We've lost another forty men to food poisoning or to dehydration, sir,” Baxter reported flatly. “There are approximately fifty more that are likely to expire before morning.”
“Damn those bastards!” Stone growled, not for the first time. “We need to make camp and get some clean water into every man in this command. More than that we need a doctor. Hell, we need a dozen doctors! I want you to send riders further north and bring back any medical assistance you can,” he ordered. “We'll maintain this route all the way back into territory we control, so anywhere they can meet us is fine. Our destination will be Lovil, on the the Ohi. We have to have time to refit and rest, get our men back on their feet.”
“I'll see to it, sir,” Baxter managed to reply evenly.
“How did your men fare at the bridge, Brigadier?” Stone asked.
Now you want to know about my men you bastard?
“I lost nine hundred and forty-two men dead, wounded or missing,” Baxter told him flatly. “We were forced to leave many behind as we made for the bridge ourselves.”
“Losses are still being figured for the others,” Stone nodded. “I'm sorry,” the older man said suddenly. “Had we listened to you, we wouldn't be in this mess. That's on me.”
“Yes sir,” Baxter's voice was neutral. “I'll round up some couriers, sir.”
“Very well,” Stone returned his salute and Baxter forced himself to walk calmly away instead of kicking Stone in the teeth as he deserved.
My time will come, he told himself.
~*~
One of the problems with long distance communications was the time it took for messages to reach their destination. A good courier, well mounted, could make fifty or more miles a day assuming fresh horses available to him along the way. Nights when the moon was full or near so would allow him to make a few more. As a result it took time to receive long distance information by couriers. Still, it was all that was available for now.
Parno McLeod was about to eat a solitary supper when the first courier rode into camp. It had been a month almost to the day since so many of his changes had been started, and they took time to bear fruit. He hoped he was about to get good news from one of his projects, but this was not the case.
The message was from Raines. They had observed what appeared to be four full Imperial Cavalry divisions leaving the enemy positions on the western banks of the Great River, headed north. Scouts had tried to follow along but had lost them two days ride north when the trail veered away from view. There was now no way of knowing where they had gone.
Parno spent his supper looking at a map, trying to imagine how far an Imperial cavalry unit could make it in one day, and how far that would let them be by now. He spent a near sleepless night worrying over it, and then spent the next day ensuring that there was adequate scouting to his own west to prevent those divisions from showing up unexpectedly.
He also reexamined Raines deployment. With so many men now removed from that field, could he afford to take any of Raines men and bring them here to face the larger army? For the moment he was hesitant to do so, but it might have to be done.
Three days after that courier had arrived, a Royal Courier had come from his brother. This courier bore reports from three of his commanders as well as a letter from his brother.
Nasil had been attacked! The city was still burning when the courier had departed!
Stunned, Parno had collapsed in his seat, staring at nothing.
All of his precautions for nothing. All the movements, posturing, forced marches, all for naught as the very thing he'd sought to prevent had happened. Fully half the stores stockpiled in Nasil gone, either stolen or burned. At least a quarter of the cit
y in flames. Chad's men had arrived in time to help drive the Nor away, but Wilbanks had been a little too late to assist and Pierce had gotten there only in time to fight the fires.
He read Pierce's report, angry at first that he had failed to protect the city, but as he read, despite Pierce's determination to take the blame on himself, Parno could see that the man had done all he could to prevent what had happened. He had too few men to confront such a force as the Nor had sent against him. That wasn't his fault, though he took full responsibility for it.
Chad's report was next, detailing how he and his men had arrived in the wee hours and manned the wall against the only attack the Imperials had mounted against the fortress directly. He had added that when it was apparent that the Nor cavalry had taken ill from eating the tainted beef left for them by the Agriculture Minister, he had taken his men out to confront the soldiers setting the fires and was able to drive them off. He noted that Wilbanks' arrival had likely played some part in that as his own men had been heavily outnumbered despite their success.
Wilbanks' report was likewise full of self-recrimination as he castigated his failure to get off the mountain before dark, forcing him to camp on the ridge and head down at first light. Parno made a mental note that something would need to be done about that in the future and then snorted to himself.
Future? At this rate Soulan wouldn't have a future!
“I heard you got a courier in milord?” Enri Willard's voice brought Parno back to the present.
“Oh, yes,” he nodded, handing the sheaf of papers over. Enri took them with a puzzled look, sharing them with General Davies who had joined him. The two read silently and then swapped, each reading all the relevant reports.
“Milord, I don't see how Pierce could have done more,” Davies remarked, apparently feeling the need to defend one of his most promising young leaders.
“Nor does the King,” Parno assured him, passing over Memmnon's more lengthy and detailed report. “Pierce has been commended by the Crown and he and his men will have by now returned to their sector to continue their work. He did the best he could with what I gave him to work with,” Parno admitted.
“The loss of stores will hurt,” Enri Willard said gently. “But quick action and quicker thinking held casualties to a minimum. And smart move on Philo's part likely put the Imperial Cavalry out of action for some weeks as well,” he added.
“I wouldn't be surprised,” Parno sighed. “Which makes me think; make damn sure that all our cattle we're butchering to feed our men are being checked. I don't mean one in five, or one in three, but every single one. The last thing we need is to have something like that sweep through this camp.”
“I'll make sure it's being done now, sir,” Enri nodded and departed to do just that. Davies finished reading the King's own report.
“Milord, this isn't nearly so bad as it could have been,” he said finally.
“No thanks to me,” Parno sighed, leaning back. “I have no business being the Marshal of the Army, General. None. I told my father that, and I told my brother that as well when they put me here. This fiasco should prove that effectively I imagine.”
“That's a load of horse shit, milord,” Davies replied bluntly and Parno jerked his eyes upward to the older man.
“You are young, milord, and you are still inexperienced, that is true,” Davies fell easily into lecture mode. “But you have a natural talent for this, milord, that cannot be taught or learned. You either have it or don't. It can be nurtured, grown, expanded upon, but if the base ability isn't there, then you can only rise so far before you're finished.”
“Despite your age and inexperience, you have led this army to two victories, milord. Before that you scored an incredible defensive victory against a foe that should have been able to march over you in a day or less. It was your vision for the future that put weapons like those that Professor Finn has created in the hands of our soldiers and they have killed more Nor than any groups of swords in this army thus far.”
“You have used a natural instinct for things to lead our men to victory. You have used every advantage you can wring from the world around us to do so, and you continue to do so. You may think this,” he held up Memmnon's letter, “is a failure, but who sent Pierce there to start with?”
“You had the idea as well,” Parno pointed out.
“I've been doing this since before you were born, son,” Davies' eyes crinkled. “Had Pierce and his men not been there, following the orders you sent with him, then what do you think would have happened?”
“I'll tell you what would have happened,” he didn't give Parno the chance to answer. “Twenty-five thousand Nor cavalry would have rode down on Nasil with about five minutes warning and destroyed the city and everything in it. Possibly killing or capturing the King and anyone else of importance in the city as well, leaving us in a real pickle instead of just in a bind like this,” he shook the paper again.
“It's not my place to speak to you so, I realize, but milord you are doing a good job. You seem to have forgotten something however that is taught in every level of War College.”
“What's that?” Parno asked.
“Sometimes the enemy gets things right too,” Davies told him. “Sometimes, no matter what you do, or how well you do it, the enemy manages to get one over on you. When that happens, you have two choices; roll over and quit, or get up and hit back. I honestly can't see you as the roll over and quit type, milord. You'd never have survived so long if you were.”
“Too true,” Parno snorted, and a ghost of a smile lit his face for the first time in days. “Thank you, General,” he said sincerely.
“Sometimes even generals need a good kick in the seat, milord,” the older man winked. “I would have to imagine the same is true for Marshals.”
“Did you talk to my brother like this?” Parno asked suddenly.
“I rarely spoke to your brother, in all honesty,” the older man replied after a brief hesitation. “He had his favorites, and the General Staff was loaded with the men he listened to and whose advise he heeded. He may have listened to Graham once in a while, but again I doubt it. Arnold isn't a bad soldier, but he's not a brilliant tactician by any means. Nor is he prone to kiss enough ass, despite his reputation, to suit certain people. Same for Herrick and Freeman. I'm sure that your brother felt they would be amenable to his plans and that's why they were put in those positions, but I assure you neither of them would ever contemplate treason. Would as likely laughed in his face to be honest.”
“I'd like to believe that very much,” Parno nodded. “I need to be able to believe it. There is so much else to worry about without having to worry about who I can trust in positions like that.”
“Milord, you let some of the rest of us worry about that,” Davies told him. “Graham is now my subordinate, which makes him my responsibility. And I don't believe he will give you any trouble. Assuming he survives training alongside his men,” he added. “Which I hope you don't expect me to do, by the way,” he added. “I'm far too long on tooth for that kind of behavior.”
“I couldn't spare you that long even if you wanted to go,” Parno shook his head. “And truly, there's no reason for the Corps commanders to do it, if we're honest.”
“You did it,” Davies shrugged.
“I'm twenty years old, too,” Parno chuckled. “But anyway. No, I don't expect you to do it, General. As I said, I can't spare you that long. We do need to think about our organization, but we'll do that tomorrow. I need. . .I need to think about all this. See what we can salvage.”
“Very well,” Davies nodded. “Send for me if you need me, milord,” the older man said. He was almost to the tent opening when Parno's voice stopped him.
“General?”
“Yes, milord?” Davies turned.
“Thank you.”
“You are quite welcome, milord.”
~*~
Two days after that news Parno was once more at his fire. It was growing warmer so t
hat the fire was more a source of light than anything, but the nights could still be cool. And besides that Parno found comfort in the fire. He supposed there was some part of man that had always found fire comforting at night, as protection to ward off predators and other enemies.
“So, you have suffered setbacks I understand” Cho Feng walked into the firelight. He had been away for three days working to help train 1st Corp in their hand-to-hand combat skills. Parno had missed him.
“You could say that,” Parno nodded. “Lost about half the stores we had set aside in Nasil, and lost over a quarter of the city by last reports. Chad lost over a hundred men dead or wounded and Wilbanks' men didn't get to the fight in time, nor did Pierce's. On the bright side, most of the Nor cavalry are sick as dogs and some have died from it according to scouting reports. Pity all of them didn't,” he muttered darkly.
“You feel responsible for this,” Feng said.
“Of course I'm responsible,” Parno snorted. “I'm the damn 'Lord Marshal of the Army',” his sarcasm was heavy. “You know there's supposed to be a baton of some kind that goes with this job,” he said suddenly. “For official ceremonies and what not. Bet Therron stole it,” he muttered.
“You know, once in a while the enemy will do something correctly despite all you can do to prevent it,” Feng sounded more amused than anything.
“Davies said the same thing a few days ago,” Parno nodded.
“I have always been impressed with his intelligence,” Feng nodded, his voice dry as a desert.
“I'm glad you guys can take all this so lightly,” Parno's tone was almost surly. “I've got Imperial cavalry raiding the capitol, more Imperial cavalry disappearing in the west to come up God only knows where, I've lost a great deal of supplies and stores that I had counted on to supply my army, we're outnumbered at a minimum of two-to-one, we're being attacked on two fronts, and now they've at least temporarily opened a third one, and my traitorous sister has murdered my father and now wants to free my traitorous brother and set him on the throne. Now where in all that do you guys find any room at all to relax, crack jokes, and make fun of my inexperience? I mean, just so I'll know for the future, in case I manage to live that long.”