by N. C. Reed
“Of course I do,” Stephanie didn't retort in anger, she merely answered. “Remember, Edema, that I wanted him before he was Crown Prince, or Lord Marshal, or any of these other titles he now has to wear. I could care that!” she snapped her own fingers in mimicry of Edema's earlier demonstration, “for titles or status or anything else that goes with being a member of the Dynasty. I care about him,” she stressed the word. “I love him. More than I ever imagined I could care for anyone, let alone the infamous Playboy Prince,” she snorted delicately. “And yes, I pushed him. He is far too prone to placing himself in danger and. . .and if he. . .if he didn't come back then perhaps, if fate smiled upon me, I would have his child to raise as evidence of that love.”
“But as you said yourself, I hurt him. I worked so hard to win his trust and confidence, practically chasing after him like some love-struck school girl trying to get his attention. I would like to think I'm not vain, but I'm not exactly unattractive either, you know. I come from a good family and I am a well known and respected physician. A title I worked hard to gain, mind you, and one I wear with some pride. I am the first woman to hold the position of Royal Physician in so long that it would take a search of the records in the Royal Archives to allow us to say for certain when the last might have been.”
“And yet I threw my pride and my dignity right out the window to chase a man who is years younger than I because. . .because he is the most amazing man I have ever encountered. A selfless man who works tirelessly for his people, who in many cases are unworthy of his sacrifices. They mock and scorn him, treat him with contempt and assume the worst no matter what, and yet, he still does it. And all I could think to do was call him selfish,” she ended with another tear trickling down her cheek. This one she did wipe away carefully.
“I'm sorry dear girl,” Edema spoke gently. “I'm often told I'm too protective of those I care about, and I suppose that is true. I had thought. . .well, it doesn't matter,” she waved it away. “And there's no point in my making you feel any worse over this, since you're doing a fine job all on your own,” she smiled sadly.
“First of all, no; Parno is not overly forgiving. He's never been able to afford that luxury. Has he told you anything of his younger years? How he was raised?”
“Not to speak of,” Stephanie replied. “Just generalities. I know that he and The Colonel were close.” The capitalization of The Colonel as a proper name was almost audible. Anyone who had been there when the regiment was formed would forever think of Darvo Nidiad as The Colonel.
“They were more than close, dear girl,” Edema sighed. “Darvo raised Parno himself, alongside Dhalia. One reason that Parno dotes on her as he does. She is his real sister, blood or no, and she always will be.” She paused, collecting her thoughts.
“I was there when Parno was born,” she said finally. “His mother was one of my most cherished friends, and she had Parno against the wishes of your uncle, who advocated for. . .well. Margolyn had been told that more children was out of the question after the twins. She was a slight woman, bless her heart, and Sherron and Therron were overly large. Tammon tried to force her to listen to Physician Smithe and, well, terminate the pregnancy, but she would not hear of it.”
“As a result, she lived only a few minutes after his birth. She held him close those few minutes and that was the last affection from his family he would ever know. I would have taken him away from here if I could, but that was of course impossible.”
“The family treated him horribly and the staff here followed suit, blaming him for his mother's death. It was no wonder he became the drinking, brawling, womanizing and what have you, man that he did, for he had no reason to believe that good behavior would in any way be rewarded.”
“And yet, when the Kingdom was in peril, who was it that managed not only to ferret that out, but then also to blunt an attack aimed directly for this city. Which cost him the only person he ever really had been able to trust; Darvo Nidiad.”
“Then his father shows up, all puffed and proud of 'his' son, and declares that Parno is now the Lord Marshal as he had led his men to victory and perhaps he could do the same in the west, as Therron had been unable to do so, and so on.”
“He accepted the position on the condition that his surviving men be freed, but I'm sure you know that,” Edema went on. “In any event, knowing these things might help you understand how Parno came to be as he is.”
“I knew some of it,” Stephanie nodded. “That still doesn't explain why he would be so averse to trying. . .I mean, how would that…”
“Stephanie dear,” Edema looked at her sadly. “Why would someone who effectively grew up without a father risk leaving a child of his own to do the same?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
-
Unaware that Edema Willows was inserting herself in his romantic entanglement, or at least what remained of it, Parno had managed to spend a day reviewing troop deployments and scouting reports. There was still no sign at all of the cavalry units that had been seen moving north on the western shores of the Great River. They could be back in camp or half-way to the lines opposite his own army here on the plains. That many additional trained cavalry would create a situation that could easily turn desperate in mere days if not minutes.
There were now sufficient stockpiles of Roda Finn's weaponry that all artillery units along the Soulan lines could now be supplied with them, and all of Soulan's artillery men had either already been trained to handle and use them, or would be within another week. 4th and 5th Corps were both firmly entrenched now in the lines facing the Norland army now as well. Should the Imperial Army try another massive attack against Royal Army positions, they would face over sixty thousand fresh troops backed by fully staffed and trained artillery well supplied with the destructive might of Roda Finn's 'wizardry'.
“We should be able to hold,” he told himself, looking at his maps. That had become an everyday thing for him. Pouring over maps for hours on end, checking troop placements and suspected enemy placements, then reading reports. Reports on readiness, supplies, suspicions of enemy intention, progress on relocation of refugees, forecast of harvests and for herds that supplied the army with leather and beef, textiles for everything from blankets to uniforms to canvas for sails and tents, the lists were endless and all of them every one, mattered. Every on figured in some way on Soulan's ability to wage war and defend her land and people.
“Courier, milord,” Sprigs announced after lunch.
“From Memmnon?” Parno asked, dreading the answer.
“No, milord,” Sprigs shook his head. “From General Beaumont.”
~*~
The couriers sent from Beaumont and Whipple had not traveled together. The information was so time sensitive and so important that it was vital that it arrive to at least one member of the Royal Family, and do so as soon as possible. Traveling over a thousand miles by horseback was dangerous enough as it was. Doing it as quickly as said horse could manage was something else altogether.
Despite having further to go, the courier bound for the Army made it within hours of the courier arriving at the Royal Palace in Nasil. The courier was shocked to see signs of battle there but didn't allow it to deter him from his mission.
So it was that Memmnon and Parno learned of the developments on the Key Horn at roughly the same time.
~*~
“Sherron is dead,” Memmnon said flatly as he, Winnie, Whip, Sebastian Grey, General Brock and Howard Govan sat in his office a few minutes later. “Perhaps a dozen of Callens' men survived the battle,” he sighed. “An elite regiment that we could have used to defend this Kingdom, lost to the pursuits of my sister.”
“What of your brother, Sire?” Govan asked hesitantly.
~*~
“So Therron managed to talk a ship Captain with more rank than brains into helping him escape,” Parno seethed as he stomped about his headquarters tent. Enri Willard, Karls, Cho, Davies and Sprigs were all present. “Now they believe he is
on his way to Norfok to enlist aid from the CPC to put down our 'coup' and put him back on the throne.”
“Coasties?” Davies frowned. “How the hell can they help him. Assuming they even would?” he added.
“They will,” Enri Willard said grimly, his face tight.
“Explain,” Parno ordered curtly.
“Therron has a very good relationship with the Coastal Defense Minister, and the Minister of Finance as they call it,” Enri explained. “They will at least give him an audience. And if he can convince them it's in their best interest to assist him, they just might do it.”
“With what?” Davies was incredulous. “They need us to protect them from Norland for Crown's sake!”
“Their army is small, but very well trained and equipped,” Enri nodded. “And while they couldn't defeat either us or Norland, we're at war already right now. If they sent a large force over the mountains, what would we oppose it with?”
“Perfect,” Parno sighed, shaking his head. “Do you know how many times I thought about killing Therron when we were kids, let alone after we were grown? But no, I just went and got a stiff drink instead. Darvo always said my drinking would be my downfall.”
~*~
“I can't believe the Coastals would assist him in grabbing the throne, Sire,” Govan looked stunned. “They have everything to lose in such an effort, should it not go their way. And they would have no way of assuring that Therron would honor whatever agreement he might make with them, even if he was successful.”
“I know that he has a good working relationship with their Defense Minister,” Memmnon mused. “But he does not govern the Coastal Provinces of course. That does not mean he wields no power among them mind you, but it would not be something he could do alone. He would have to convince their Governor that it was in the best interest of the CPC to assist Therron. And frankly, I don't see how he can do that.”
“We need to beat him to the punch,” Brock spoke finally. “Have you sent a messenger to the Coastals informing them of the change in rule, Sire?” he asked Memmnon.
“Yes,” Memmnon nodded. “A courier was dispatched five days after the fact. Before my father's funeral in fact.”
“So they will already have received word of what has befallen Tammon, then,” Brock continued, eyes narrowed in thought. “Did you inform Governor Princeton of the circumstances?”
“Yes,” Govan fielded that one. “While we thought we knew where she was bound, there was the possibility that Sherron would try to flee there if pursuit was too close or she couldn't get to Therron. It as decided that Princeton should know all the facts, at least as we knew them at the time.”
“Then he will now that there was no coup, and that the 'attempt' that Therron will try to convince him of was in fact orchestrated by his twin, in an effort to place him on the throne illegally.”
“Unless our couriers didn't make it,” Memmnon nodded. “We sent three, by different routes, as usual. Surely one made it through,” he said it almost like a prayer.
~*~
“Regardless, unless Semmes can stop this idiot, Chastain, then there's not much we can do,” Davies shrugged. “He's at sea and a long way from here. Any help the Coasties would send will have to come through the mountains, and they will have to start now readying an expedition that would make it through the mountains before the first snows fly.”
“And they have to pass Cove Canton to get here,” Karls reminded him. “The southern roads would add hundreds of miles to their journey and allow even more time for someone to see them and report their presence.”
“True,” Parno mused, looking back to the note. “Beaumont and Whipple are taking their commands to Cove, in fact, in case I wanted them there to interdict such a move.” He paused again, clearly thinking.
“What are you considering, young lord?” Feng asked for everyone in the room.
“Beaumont and Whipple are a good team, and think fast on their feet,” Parno told them. “And while I really need them here, Allen proved that he's more than capable of doing the same work they did. He, Coe and Vaughan did a fine job earlier, and there's no reason to think they can't continue to do so. That still leaves us two cavalry divisions here at all times, and 1st Corps is less than an hour's march back. Far less for their own cavalry. There is minimal risk involved in allowing Allen and his 'command' to continue to harass and interdict behind enemy lines for now.”
“And they make a good reaction force to go after that Nor cavalry if it really does show up here somewhere,” Davies nodded in agreement.
“So Beaumont and Whipple will stay at Cove for now,” Parno decided finally, standing. “They can go through the conditioning training which can only make them more formidable, and be on call to go after any incursion my traitor brother managed to wrangle from the Coasties, assuming they really will help him.”
“I still have to wonder what they would want in order to lend him their assistance.”
~*~
“Your cook is excellent, Captain,” Therron complimented as he wiped his mouth. “That pork might be the best I've eaten.”
“I shall inform him of your compliment, milord,” Chastain raised his glass. “I'm sure he will be delighted to hear it from someone of your station.” He fell quiet for a moment, considering his next question. Therron saved him the trouble.
“You're wondering why the Coastals would assist me,” he smiled slightly.
“Not why as much as if,” Chastain admitted. “We're in the middle of a nasty war with the Empire at the moment, milord. What profit is there for them in aiding us at all?”
“First of all, they won't be aiding us, but rather aiding me,” Therron steepled his hands before him, bracing his elbows on the table. “I have an excellent working relationship with their Defense Minister, Picon Charleston. I've helped him considerably over the years since I became Marshal and his position in his own government has improved greatly because of that.”
“Second, they want to ensure they stay on the good side of the ruling family because Soulan is all that keeps the CPC out of the clutches of the Empire. They know that any successful coup will not be good for them in the long run. We can trust them to do what's best for them, much as anyone else would.”
“And finally, Governor Princeton is somewhat taken with my sister,” Therron smiled in a way that made Chastain's stomach want to send the excellent food he'd just eaten back the way it had come.
“So I shall dangle dear Sherron before him as an enticement,” the Marshal finished. “Governor Princeton is only marginally intelligent, but he is prone to allow his nethers to do his important decisions making. If necessary I shall have Sherron 'take one for the team' as the old saying used to go.”
“Well, that does sound as if it would work,” Chastain managed to keep his voice calm for the most part.
“I'm sure it seems distasteful to you, Captain,” Therron smiled again. “The truth is, however, that such arrangements are all too common at our level. Sherron has expected something like this and planned for it all her life. It will not surprise her in any way. I'm sure she'll be running their country inside five years,” he laughed. “And in any case, it's not as if it will be a hardship. Thanks to our protection of their cities, the CPC is quite wealthy. She will not be lowering her standard of living any, you may be sure of that.”
“Of course, milord,” Chastain nodded. “If I might beg your pardon, milord, but I need to check the watch. I try to observe the watch change every few days without warning. It keeps my men on their toes.”
“Excellent practice Captain,” Therron approved. “Please, don't let me keep you from your duties.”
Five minutes later Chastain was on the observation and command deck of his cruiser, looking over his ship. He really did observe his men every so often without their knowledge to make sure they were not shirking in their responsibility, but tonight he knew that if he had waited any longer to get some cool sea air, he would not have been able to keep his s
upper down.
I have made a monumental error and I have no way at all to undo it. None. I have tied, no I have chained myself to this revolting man and have no way to free myself from him. My career, indeed my continued living, now depend entirely on his whims. What have I done?
That less than happy thought was all that was on his mind as his men went through their watch change minutes later.
~*~
“There's nothing we can actually do at the moment,” Memmnon decreed finally as his chief advisers continued to pass the problem around the room.
“Sir, this is a direct threat to your rule!” Brock insisted.
“More direct that a half-million Nor soldiers?” Memmnon's voice was light but his meaning was clear. “Therron cannot possibly be more of a threat to us at the moment than the Imperial Army. Regardless, we can't do anything about it at the moment, as I said,” he shrugged. “He's at sea. If Semmes has anything that can put to sea and try to stop this moronic Captain I'm sure he will try, but remember that the Navy essentially destroyed itself protecting our shores and enabling Parno to consolidate the army against the invasion. If they cannot stop this Chastain person, then it will be difficult to hold it against them, wouldn't you say?”
“True,” Brock sighed. “My man Johnson will be remaining behind with the wounded until they can travel, then coming north for reassignment. He told us repeatedly that he needed more men and we didn't heed him. If we had, if I had, we wouldn't be having this discussion in all likelihood.”
“And if my father hadn't insisted on a cock-and-bull story about Therron being 'ill' instead of the traitorous snake that he is, Johnson wouldn't have been there needing more men to start with,” Memmnon shrugged easily. “There is where the true blame likes, General. With Therron, and with my father. Johnson acted to save his men. From what I have read, all he could have accomplished was to ensure the death of every man in his command for absolutely no return. He did nothing wrong. Thanks to him we still have his men to serve where they are needed.”