“Yes, I would. At the express request not only of their chieftain, but also every single female elder of their clan. Perhaps you would not have been informed of this, but anyone who can have been said to have influence amongst the Uhlobo clan has asked me to allow their women to fight. Now, I hardly believe women should be on the field of battle, but when that many people request it directly, I do not believe I can refuse. Especially when we are already at a dire stretch for manpower. If that means relaxing the niceties of war, then so be it.”
“If you hardly believe that, then overrule them!”
“Upton, what you are doing is placing the life of a native woman on a higher pedestal than that of a human aristocrat. Is that what you truly believe, that one of them is worth one of us?”
The company commander sputtered, caught between his belief that women deserved protection, and the ongoing contempt he had for any form of life that did not come from his own civilization. At last, his belief in the total pre-eminence of humanity won out.
“When you are that blunt about the matter, I will take one of our nobility over any ten of them. There is a certain indistinguishable quality to the aristocracy that makes them suited to lead men, to define the very course of history. I am quite sure none of these creatures possess anything of the sort. Very well, I shall accept your decision under the terms presented, now that I understand your reasoning better.”
“You are my subordinate. You do not 'accept' my decisions, you obey them without question. The next time you argue with me in this manner, I'll have you up on insubordination charges so fast your head will spin. Now get out of my office before I decide your presence constitutes just such an argument.”
Upton glared for a brief moment, then realized Jacob was entirely serious and departed with unseemly alacrity.
The regimental commander sighed, and wiped his forehead. Upton was that very worst sort of noble, so convinced of his own superiority he never thought to question whether he had earned any right to it. And as to whether Jacob really considered his own soldiers worth more than the Umkhovu? That was something he did not need to answer, not to himself.
***
“You look uncertain of yourself, Darren.”
It was, once again, another splendid feast by Cook. Fresh vegetables made a cushioned bed for a local fish, lightly sautéed and surrounded by river prawns, with an excellent and slightly tart white to go along with it.
“I am, unfortunately. We've lost contact with several of the furthest farms. All of them are in the direction of Richard's fortress.”
“When you say lost contact, what do you mean? After all, can't your dragoons swing past on patrol?”
“Meaning the peasants disappeared, but there was no carnage visible. There was even food on the table in one of the houses. It was as if they'd stood up from whatever they were doing, and simply walked into the woods. If they had been killed by attacks from the arboreals, we'd know.”
“What you are saying, then, is there is yet another unexplainable occurrence.”
“Well, perhaps. But, given the number of times there have been unexplainable things, I think you and I, at least, have to accept the fact that some of our opponents have gifts that could loosely be called 'magic'.”
Jacob shook his head in disbelief.
“You mean to suggest that these creatures, barely gifted with the rudiments of civilization, have the ability to control the mystic aether, something relegated only to children's stories?”
“If you can do so, create a single explanation that covers the resistance of the Hungry Ones to musket fire, the concerted attacks by woodland apex predators, the wood rotting into nothingness, and now this. And I likely missed one of two occurrences, as well.”
“I can hardly create a single explanation for four different situations, now can I? But we barely know the natural phenomena of this continent, so the arrival of that many predators might have been a migration of some sort.”
The explanation sounded feeble, even to Jacob's own ears.
“Somehow, I doubt you actually believe that. Just make sure you do not discount their capabilities when your men's lives are at stake.”
“I try, and they yell at me for trying. You've heard about this whole mess with the Umkhovu?”
“Well, you did arm their women.”
“Women who can bring down a rabbit at thirty paces with a spear.”
“They are still women, however. We have been trained since birth to offer them deference and protection. Asking those same men to then watch them march into battle with a musket on their shoulder is a bit of a turnabout.”
“I am only too aware, given the harassment Upton has laid at my feet. I had to threaten the pompous creature with insubordination in order to drive him off. His family may be old and wealthy, but I am still his superior officer.”
“Your family being older and wealthier still is probably part of the issue at hand. After all, resentment could also be driving him.”
“Thank you. I do adore having extra blame laid at my feet. Oh well. I hope he refrains from anything overly deplorable.”
“He is a Royal Army officer. Plus, while he might have found appropriate ears to bend back at home, I hardly think he's got many here.”
“I'm more worried about him doing something foolish when the Umkhovu go into battle for the first time. I've attached them to Alastair for that very reason, but Upton is the stubborn sort who could create a problem if he wanted to.”
“Don't claim burdens you haven't earned, Jacob. He's hardly going to do something that could be used to ruin his career. He's bullheaded, but not an imbecile. Anyway, going back to the matter that we started this conversation with, how are we going to deal with these lost farmers?”
“You're fairly certain neither the arboreals nor the pale barbarians had anything to do with this?”
“Judging by how those creatures operated, no.”
“Drat. That means there's a fourth species of native running around here. Unless you have another suggestion?”
“Another species of native is the most likely cause for something such as this. But how did they manage to extract those people without any violence? If the farmers had seen the natives coming, they would have armed themselves.”
“Unless the natives are able to appear as something that is unthreatening...”
Darren shuddered.
“If there are natives out there that can disguise themselves as something friendly and human, our ability to maintain order is going to collapse entirely. I really do hope you're wrong on that score.”
“Well, before we assume that's the only possibility, how else could they have done it?”
“There was the family that disappeared with a meal on the table, so it had to be something that makes them all get up from the table and walk outside. Which means intriguing but not dangerous.”
“Such as?”
“A visit by their neighbours, children included?” Darren’s answer was clearly a best guess.
“That does work, but presupposes that whatever caused this either coerced the neighbouring peasants into it or acted convincingly as them.” Jacob shook his head, then sipped from the wine glass once more. “We can tie ourselves into knots attempting to decipher this, and we haven't asked the expert. Inceku, could you find Umholi and bring him along? I know he's supposed to be on break.”
The Umkhovu gave a half-bow, then disappeared after clearing away the remains of the meal.
Jacob and Darren filled the time before Umholi returned with wine and cheese, and more unpleasant thoughts.
“Ah, Umholi, there you are. I doubt Inceku was able to explain things fully, so let me try. We've had a few peasants disappear from their homes, some right in the middle of a meal. No signs of violence. Do you know what might have caused that?”
The Uhlobo chieftain paused, although he chose to remain standing in deference to his position as butler. One simply did not sit in the presence of his master unless
invited to.
“I can't say that anything of the sort ever happened to the Umkhovu. Although...” He trailed off and sunk back into his thoughts. “Perhaps there is one such creature who could do a thing. But if they are involved, they are a long way from home. And I am also unsure why they would want humans.”
Darren groaned. “Out with it man, what are these creatures?”
“Their name is long since lost, or at least, whatever the proper title is. But they are small, inquisitive, and generally peaceful. Which makes something such as this all the more distressing. As to what we call them, Forgotten Folk is the name that appears in the stories.”
“And how could they do such a thing?”
“I know you persist in disbelieving me when I suggest there are things such as magic in this world, but it does exist. And nowhere is it more strongly concentrated than amongst the Forgotten Folk, or so the tales go. They are famous for their ability to trick people using sounds and images formed from their own minds.”
Jacob held up a hand. “What you've described sounds like a set of natives who would hardly bother us, much like your own. Why would they be here, and helping spirit away colonists?”
“I do not know. Perhaps there are other matters that might help explain things?”
His master debated for a moment before deciding to speak. “Umholi, what I say next does not leave this tent. When Thomason was here, he told me they were all but certain that Richard and his entire regiment were dead, as well as the rest of the fortress. Too much time had passed since they had heard from him. And these disappearances are moving along a direct line from that direction.”
Umholi staggered, and then shuddered. “That is bad news, bad news indeed sir. You think whoever did it is on the way here?”
“Almost certainly. And if we can't stop them, they'll be on the way to Matthias next.” Jacob sighed. “How well are your tribesmen coming along with their training? We'll need them before this is all done.”
“Well enough, I think. We are hardly going to challenge the Lifeguards in a shooting competition, but a lesser regiment might have some cause for concern.”
“Let’s hope that's enough. So, we have new tactical threats to worry about, and unlike the last assortment, this one is subtle. Darren, have the arboreals been pushy recently?”
“Hardly. They still raid farms occasionally, but at a level lower than it was before the siege. And wherever the Hungry Ones went, it was away from here.”
“Very well, we'll have to play this one by ear. Darren, double up the patrols, both the strength and the frequency. I know that'll put you under a fair amount of strain, but advance warning would be nice.” He paused. “There are times I wish we were a field army, not tied down to this bloody fortress. But where would I go to fight? The natives don't seem to move in discernible formations, and they appear and disappear much faster than any large force has any right to.”
A discrete cough sounded from the corner.
“Umholi?”
“Well, sir, there is the matter of the rest of the Umkhovu. As I think you know, I sent messengers telling them to come here. Some of them might have more information on what is happening, having been free to roam the plains and perhaps encounter what was on the way. Or at least glimpse it at a safe distance.”
“But do you know when those tribes might arrive?”
“None at all. But although the plains are vast, they tend to settle in certain locations each year. A cycle of life, if you will pardon the expression.”
Darren butted in. “I'm not entirely sure another tribe of Umkhovu would be a good thing, Jacob. They're not going to be trained to fight properly, and thus bystanders who consume resources and need defending.”
“For this fight, possibly. But if we can get them ready for the next one? Even if it's only minimally? It would hardly be the first time the Royal Army has gone into battle with barely trained conscripts amongst its ranks. Rather, it would be the continuation of a glorious tradition.”
“I'd still rather not place my neck on the line with such thinly disciplined troops.”
“In that case, I suggest you hope they are all as fast at learning as Umholi is. Anyway, we can fret ourselves all night long over the possibilities, but we should abed before that happens. Whatever comes of this, being well rested will help in dealing with it.”
Umholi bowed and slipped from the room, while Darren raised his glass in a final toast before he too departed, leaving Jacob alone with his thoughts. Rather than face what ran through his head, the regimental commander, responsible for the lives of everyone in this fortress, tucked himself into bed with a distracting manuscript.
***
Jacob woke the next morning to a thought, one that burbled around the inside of his mind while he sat for the full and proper breakfast that started every day. He played with it while he strolled through the camp, greeting his soldiers as they polished their equipment next to the morning fires. And finally, when he was ready to discuss it, he called Darren to his tent.
“Darren, your 1st Royal Dragoons are useful soldiers, but I am surely right in saying they're cramped inside the fortress. You can't use the horses, and your carbines are otherwise less powerful than infantry muskets.”
“Of course. Dragoons are open field units.”
“Then let’s use your soldiers to their best effect. We know something is coming down from Richard's fort. So we go and meet it. We'll be able to trap it between your cavalry and my infantry if we play our cards right. Regardless, you'll be far more effective. It's ideal cavalry country, and none of the people here have ever seen anything like the Dragoons.”
“That's all well and good, but we're supposed to protect the fortress and surrounding lands. How can we do that and send out an effective field army?”
“Leave behind a skeleton force and the heavy artillery. It's already in place around the fortress and sighted in after that scrap with the Hungry Ones. Keep them ready with grape or canister, and any of these silly native forces will be torn to shreds.”
“And if there's as many of the Hungry Ones as there were last time?”
“Last time we could barely use the artillery because of gunpowder constraints. This time, we wouldn't need to worry about that. And you know how good my gun crews are.”
“Army champions three years running at the Royal Tournament, aren't they?”
“Precisely. Now, before we can get our men on the road, we need to know where we are going. We know some of the places this mystery force has been, but I'd like to know if there was any more incidents. It would give us a location to start operations at. If you could send out a few patrols… and take along an Umkhovu or two. They are better at knowing the local inhabitants than we are.”
“A good point. I'll order the rest of my men to prepare while the ready company goes out.” Darren paused. “You do know that if this goes wrong, it's going to fall on your shoulders.”
“I've known that since the day I was handed command of this fortress by Colonel Sherman. The assaults by the arboreals and the Hungry Ones settled the matter. However, we are the Lifeguards. We simply do not lose.”
“Well... there was that one time in 879, at the Battle of the Tannenberg Forest.”
“A trifling three hundred years ago. I think even the Lifeguards can afford one defeat every three centuries.”
“How very modest of you.”
“We do try and accommodate to the needs of the rest of the service, but it is such a low target to aim at.”
Darren glared at him, amused. “If you keep this up, I'll tell the Nightwatch Fusiliers you insulted their choice of beer.”
“You wouldn't!”
“So there is a unit that even the Lifeguard Infantry are afraid of.”
“Anyone with a modicum of sense should be frightened of the Nightwatch Fusiliers. Their battle tactics make the berserkers of yesteryear blush with envy.”
“Not us. We're on horses, so they can't keep up. Even if
we are riding away from the battle.”
“With some of their legendary forced marches, you really presume they couldn't hunt you down over the course of a week?”
“Well, perhaps. But thankfully, that is never a tactical problem I am going to have to solve. You, on the other hand, might have to outrun them if you keep teasing the rest of the Royal Army.”
“Point understood. Now shouldn't you being seeing about your men?”
“Yes, yes. I'll go inform them forthwith.”
Jacob watched as Darren disappeared from the tent. Despite the Lifeguard commander’s outward assurances, he still had worries about the logic of leaving the fortress. The world was a large place, and it was certainly possible the two forces would pass one another, leaving his base far weaker than it should be. But war had its risks, and this was merely another one of them. Muttering, he called for Inceku, and a stiff drink.
***
The Dragoons had found another two farmsteads gone, both smashed to pieces, destroyed down to the ground as if a great storm had come upon them. The surroundings had been heavily flecked with red and animal debris. Whatever had destroyed the house had butchered the livestock in horrific fashion. And...
Jacob turned away. That had been the farmer. Or his wife. And over there was a firepit. His brain came to the inescapable conclusion, but he preferred to avoid it all the same. Gesturing at the soldiers with him, he led them away from the farmstead. There was not enough left to bury.
“We'll get them, sir, don't worry.”
Jacob glanced over to see Fredericks walking next to him. In his funk, he hadn't seen the private approaching.
“We need to do more than just get them. We need to make such an example of them that the rest of this continent quakes when we approach. That the sound of our arrival is enough to make a city surrender in fear.”
“Sir, we are still civilized men. That is what separates us from these barbarians.”
“Sometimes, what we hold most dear must be sacrificed on the altar of duty. And no normal action on our part has dissuaded these creatures.”
Our Land (Queen's Own Book 1) Page 13