Chapter 21
General Strategy
General Alessa lay on the floor of her tent, curled up in a ball, shuddering and crying silently. The Queen had been secured, the vanguard reunited with the main body of the 9th, and the troops stood down. Alessa then had the luxury of retiring to her tent and breaking down.
The furnishings were soldier-simple. Weapon rack, armor rack, bunk, trunk and desk. Although, as a general, she rated an enhanced tent which could be fully fitted in detail and still be collapsible, she only took advantage of the sound proofing. It allowed her to give in to her insecurities privately.
The burden of responsibility weighed heavily on her. The several thousand soldiers of the 9th, the officers, her fellow generals, the Queen herself; all looked up to her and respected her. They seemed to have no idea just how little grasp she had on what she was supposed to be doing. The General, who had elevated her against her desires to this position, had said that being a leader just means delegating appropriately. He was making a joke, but she had no option but to do so.
A bastard child of an Amazon, she was the lowest of the low. When an Amazon woman desired a child, she went to the temple, prayed and sacrificed to the goddesses. Those the goddesses smiled upon became pregnant. Her mother did not. Not wanting to put up with the social ridicule, she left Amazonia for the slums of Romitu. There she engaged in what her culture considered bestiality, and got her child by means other than the goddesses.
Her mother never said as much, but Alessa knew. Otherwise why not go back to Amazonia, which she claimed to love so much? And, no matter what she did, it was never good enough for her mother. She had to constantly prove herself. To be more of an Amazon than the Amazons themselves. Or, rather, more than Romitu's idea of Amazons. She knew better now. She had marched her army through Amazonia, an early ally of Scioni. They were a nation of farmers, craftswomen, and politicians, much like any other. Yes, they had their own standing army. And, yes, perforce, they were all women. They weren't exceptional. But that didn't make a good story. Amazing women warriors with supernatural skills made a good story. And that's what she had to live up to.
So she became a hack job mercenary. A sword for hire. She painted on her scarlet war paint and made more of her appearance than knowing one end of a sword from another. Fate and luck thrust her in front of The General when he needed bodies and this is where she ended up. In charge of an army. Not just any army, the 9th army. The most prestigious one.
Scioni had put her here. And now he was gone. Swept into the void before her very eyes in that random ambush. If only the deadly gate had materialized a few feet to one side it would be her that was gone and not him. The General would have still been here. She'd have been mourned, but not missed. The world would have been much better for it.
Instead she has Jesca as the Queen. Alessa loved her almost as dearly as The General, and wished she was as competent a general as the Queen deserved. They floundered in their strategy; caught in an awful quagmire with no end in sight. The Queen all but abdicating and, horror of horrors, trying to elevate her to the throne! As if she hadn't done badly enough as a general. Almost in revenge she goes off on some mad, noble gesture. Alessa had lost The General on her watch. She nearly had apoplexy at the thought of losing Jesca as well. Gods know they probably wouldn't punish her for it as she deserved but instead raise her to Queen in tribute to Jesca's obvious wish.
She was shaken from her misery by a knock on the tents door. She clenched herself tighter, willing them to go away. “General”, came a voice. “The Queen is requesting your presence.”
Defeated, she rolled on to her back. She drew a ragged breath and calmed herself. She canceled the sound proofing and said “Tell her I am on my way.” After a moment's pause she hauled herself to her feet. She avoided looking in the mirror and wiped her face with water from a bowl. Grasping another ornament she exerted some determination and activated it. Cold rushed up and down her body, quickly removing outward signs of dirt, sweat, and debris. She donned her light battle dress with well-practiced hands, the regulation sword, and strode from the tent with a façade of purposefulness.
On duty troops saluted as she passed. She returned it. Off duty troops cheered her. She gave them a victory sign. The Queen's attaché lead her on. She had expected to be lead through the tri-form arch to the High City in Romitu, but instead the Queen appeared to be holding court in the mess tent.
“Majestus”, said Alessa, saluting her. The Queen sat, somewhat disheveled on the long edge of one of the tables. Food and the remains of food lay scattered about, as well as bits of her personal gear, notes, and odd weapons. Her masters of personal and household security stood a discreet distance away keeping a nonchalant, but wary, eye about the place. Other soldiers came and went from the tent. Some craned their necks to get a look at the Queen, but most gave her the respect her willingness to come to their level deserved.
“Sit. Eat if you need it”, said Jesca, rubbing her eyes. “Oh, thank you for puling me out of that, by the way.”
Alessa sat, but did not touch the food. “It's my duty, ma'am. Besides I think your own skill and Sir Valkyr's did most of the work.”
Jesca shook her head. “No. No skill on my part. Just enough magic defenses to make my teeth hurt. Sir Valkry was spirited, but that wasn't enough to turn the demon. I'm told they don't like fair fights. It was the change in tactical situation brought about by your arrival that made it re-think its position. So don't short yourself.”
“Majestus is kind”, said Alessa, dropping the argument. Like intimidating people merely by wearing Amazon war paint. Now just moving her troops saved the day. She hadn't come far at all. She feared the day she was actually put to the test and found lacking.
“It would have been kinder of me not to get into such a mess”, she grinned sheepishly. “For that I apologize.”
“It's your prerogative”, said Alessa. It was such recklessness that won her the position she was in. When Scioni was assassinated there had been a surge from the Republic loyalists. Jesca, not even a force commander, had rode out herself to meet them and embarrassed the garrison into following her. She hadn't even known Scioni was dead yet.
“Yes, but still not very convenient for you. Disturbing your strategic plans and all that.” Jesca reached for a loaf of bread, and then changed her mind. “Which is why I dragged you out of your tent to talk.” She pushed herself up straight, and moved some of the litter from the table. She looked Alessa straight in the eyes for the first time. “We have confirmation: those were demons.”
Alessa nodded. “A shape shifted ruse holding the outer perimeter while a major one manifested the barrier and dealt with you”, said Alessa.
Jesca nodded. “We have not faced demons before. This is a change in tactics.”
“We do not know that we have faced demons before”, said Alessa. “If they were similarly shape shifted...”
“True”, said Jesca, considering. “The complete abandon with which some of their troops have fought...” she shook her head. “Nevertheless. We know that these were demons. And they know that we know that these were demons. The cat is out of the bag.”
“Do you expect that they will use demons now more openly?” asked Alessa. She dreaded the thought. But for the luck of Demara's knight turning up, they would have lost the Queen.
“What would you do if you were them?” asked Jesca. It was a game she played a lot with her generals.
Alessa looked uncomfortable. “I'm really not sure of their capabilities.” She paused. “Certainly the element of surprise is now gone. I would move quickly and deploy them to the best advantage before we had time to develop a counter strategy.”
“Makes sense. And, we don't know what that best advantage is yet.” She pulled a goblet of watered down wine to her and took a sip.
“We have not fought demons before”, said Alessa. “I've heard stories. But that's not really something to base a strategy on.”
“I agr
ee. But we know this: the war is going to change. The stakes in this war have been upped. Yet again. First them with their destructive tactics. Then us with The Oath barring returning fighters. Then them with their berserker hypnosis, or whatever. Now this.” She traced the rim of the glass. “Since we don't know exactly what to expect, a conservative strategy is best. I'm thinking of withdrawing all the armies to the cities with trade gates.” She looked up at her closely for her reaction.
“And give up all that we've gained?” She waved her hands. “We've got camps at tactical gates in strategic positions all over the continent.”
“What's strategic anymore? We can send a vanguard in, form a perimeter, erect a tactical gate, and have an army through in forty minutes. We've trained the maneuver over and over.” Jesca sighed. “The gates destroy any notion of territory. You've told me that. We know that. We just haven't reacted to it.”
“We haven't because we don't know how to react”, said Alessa. “This is all new. Old school training doesn't help here. And now you say they're changing the field again.”
“There was no one more old school than Scioni”, said Jesca. “He managed. We must.”
“I'm no Scioni”, said Alessa, forcefully. She nearly laughed at the understatement.
Jesca smiled sadly. “Neither am I. None of us are.”
The silence lengthened. “They know we can rapid deploy”, said Alessa, eventually. “So there is no element of surprise to hide. Boosting from the trade gates in the cities to a tactical gate uses less mana than from one tactical gate to another. This means we can do it more. Say that as soon as we redeploy the forces to the cities, we make it a policy of doing a rapid deploy to any city we hear about with a cluster of soldiers, or even the rumor of one. Plus some others at complete random. We build our training. We keep them guessing.” The words just tumbled out. It was the first thing she thought of. No thought behind it. Just random nonsense.
“Sounds like a plan”, said Jesca. “Let’s start in the morning.” She stood up, and Alessa left, inwardly terrified.
Red Queen Page 21