by N. C. Reed
Inside, Parno was less than impressed with what he saw. The hall wasn’t unkept, exactly, but it was untidy. The desk constable looked up at the new arrivals, frowning at the sight of a constable being held prisoner.
“What the blazes? Who are you, to be holding a constable captive?” The stout constable was on his feet, projecting his voice. Several constables sitting in the hall roused themselves to see what was happening.
“Are you in charge here?” Parno inquired politely. “I’m afraid I have some unpleasant business to attend to. This constable has misused his authority.”
“And who are you to make that determination?” the desk constable snarled. “I’ve a good mind to teach you - ” The sergeant’s tirade cut off abruptly as both Willard and Nidiad stepped in front of their Prince. Both were in the uniform of the Royal Military, and while neither spoke, their anger was evident.
“My name,” Parno answered agreeably, “is Parno McLeod, constable, and I asked if you were in charge.”
The constable’s face paled. His fellow constables were suddenly studiously seeing to their own affairs. Licking his dry lips, the desk constable nodded.
“Y-yes, Milord,” he finally croaked. “Constable Sergeant Nevers, sire.”
“Very well, Sergeant Nevers,” Parno smiled. “I wish these men held here for trial. The charges are attempted murder, inciting a riot, and for the constable here you may add dereliction of duty and abuse of office. I will return in the morning to speak with the Chief Constable of the District and take care of any formalities. Please ensure that the Chief knows that I will call upon him and ask that he make himself available.”
“Of course, Milord,” the Sergeant replied at once. “Turner, Miller! See to the prisoners. At once!” The last command was bellowed as the two constables detailed to take charge of the prisoners didn’t move fast enough to suit the Sergeant.
“Should the Chief Constable desire to speak to me before morning, Sergeant, he may call for me at the Royal Barracks. Understood?”
“Aye, Milord. I shall so inform the Chief of Constabulary.”
“Thank you, Sergeant.”
“Let’s go,” he added in a quieter tone to his men. As the soldiers filed back outside, the priest could still be heard, yammering constantly.
“What a mess,” Nidiad snorted as the men stepped outside. “I could understand it if we were in a smaller settlement, but this is the Provincial Capital, for Crown’s sake!”
“Judge not,” Parno smiled. “And let us waste no more time with such matters. There’s baths, women, and strong drink awaiting us!”
“Hear, hear!”
The column moved along the street, eager for the promised recreation after over two weeks in the saddle.
*****
“Milord! We were not expecting you! Had we known, proper accommodations would have already been prepared. I assure you, however, that we will - ” Parno's raised hand silenced the young officer in mid-apology.
“Proper accommodation for me is with my men, Captain,” Parno said quietly. “If it’s good enough for them, then it’s good enough for me. I would appreciate it if suitable barracks were made available for my Company to bunk together, however. And if you could have the stables care for our horses? We really are in need of a hot bath and cold beer, preferably with as little delay as possible.”
“Of course, Milord,” the Captain replied with a grin. “I’ll see to it myself. If you and your men will follow me, I’ll get you to your barracks, and then have the stable hands retrieve and care for your animals and wagons.”
“Thank you, Captain.”
*****
“Well, these ain’t bad,” Willard said, as he followed Parno and Nidiad into the transient barracks assigned to the men in Parno’s command.
The barracks were austere, of course, as all such buildings were. As transient barracks the interior lacked the touches of soldiers who called barracks home. There were no soldiers permanently billeted in these quarters and the walls and desks were empty. The barracks themselves were spotless.
“Whoever runs this place has things right on rail, seems to me,” Nidiad agreed. “This place could stand inspection right now.”
“Well, all I want to inspect is the tub,” Parno said with a grin. “And after that, the nearest good beer.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Willard replied, his own face split by a grin. He turned to address his troops.
“All right, lads! Pick your bunks, by rank, then seniority. I expect every man back here in time for morning assembly. Leave until then.” Cheers erupted from the soldiers at that news. After so many days on the road, they were more than ready for a few days in barracks, along with a few nights in town.
“First round is on me, boys!” Parno called, and the cheering increased. Parno laughed. “Course that means I get first crack at the bath!” General laughter followed that remark, as the men all piled in to shake down into bunk assignments.
Over the last month, Parno McLeod had proven to be most un-prince like, the soldiers had decided. Instead, they regarded the scion of their ruling family as one of them, high praise indeed from combat soldiers. While Parno’s brother, Therron, commanded all the Soulan Armies, he was not considered a true soldier by the men he commanded. The Lord Marshal, as Therron insisted on being called, traveled in comfort wherever he went and would never dream of sharing a barracks, let alone a campfire, with ‘common’ soldiers.
Parno, on the other hand, held himself no higher, no more deserving of comfort, than the man next to him in the saddle, regardless of what rank that man might hold. Moreover, Prince Parno was by no means trying to convince the soldiers of his own toughness. Indeed, he complained just like the troopers did, of saddle sores, cramped muscles and long rides. But he endured all these things right alongside the soldiers he now commanded.
And that was the difference. While Parno McLeod would never be like them, he was one of them. That, after all, was all that mattered.
*****
The next morning found the Chief Constable waiting upon the Prince’s pleasure in the office of the barrack’s Captain. He was in a somewhat foul mood, having been kept waiting by a mere captain and to see a non-entity like Parno McLeod at that.
Tumar Barone had been Chief Constable of Bingham for many years and was a fairly powerful man in his own right. He knew that Parno was the least favored of the ruling family and that the King couldn’t stand the sight of him. Still, he was a member of the Royal Family and despite his knowledge of the relationship between Royal Father and Royal Son, Barone knew it was dangerous to rock the boat.
“Chief Constable?” Barone’s thoughts were interrupted. He turned to see a young man in soldiers garb entering the door.
A damned aide, Barone thought sourly. Come, no doubt, to explain that his Highness is delayed. Probably due to illness, though no doubt the truth is that the whelp is hung over.
“Yes?”
“Parno McLeod,” the young man said, offering his hand. Barone, taken aback by the off-handed way the young prince introduced himself, Barone took the hand without a thought.
“Milord,” Barone nodded.
“I’m sorry to have brought you such a wad of trouble, Chief,” Parno said. “I found the constable and priest I turned over to your men about to burn a man at the stake, alive, for witchcraft, of all things.”
“I read the report, sire,” Barone nodded. “I must confess, I was surprised. Both by the constable’s actions and the priest’s. The priest apparently convinced the constable and most of the townsfolk that he had some sort of official authority to practice such devilry.”
“Well, he doesn’t,” Parno assured the Chief Constable. “I’ve made sure, as far as possible, that the people in town know that too. But this cannot be allowed to go unpunished.”
“It won’t, Milord,” Barone replied. “I assure you. Both men will stand trial as charged. It will be necessary for you and your men to be here for that trial, however.”<
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“Not a problem,” Parno assured him. “I’ll be here for a week, perhaps ten days. That should be enough time for the trial, shouldn’t you think?”
“More than sufficient, Milord,” Barone agreed. “I wasn’t aware you were going to be staying with us so long.”
“Let me know when you need me. If I’m not around, a message left with the barracks Officer will reach me quickly enough,” Parno ordered, ignoring the Constable’s deftly asked non-question. Normally Parno wouldn’t have hesitated to let the Chief Constable of a town he visited know what he was doing, but there was something about Barone that didn’t set well with him.
“As you will, Milord,” Barone responded with a curt bow. He knew a dismissal when he heard it. “By your leave?”
“Good day to you, Chief,” Parno nodded and the chief left the office, still surly.
“Quite a fellow, aye, Captain?” Parno noted to the Officer of Barracks. The young Captain hesitated for a few seconds, then nodded. “Aye, milord. Quite a fellow indeed.”
Parno was about to ask the Captain about his hesitation when Nidiad opened the door and stepped in.
“Ready when you are, Milord,” the old soldier informed him.
“Very well. Captain, should anyone be looking for me I shall return here this evening. You might make note that my men and I will occupy the barracks for at least ten days. Also note that we will require the training field at dawn each morning for roughly an hour and again before dark. If that interferes with anyone else, let me know. We’ll work something out.”
“Aye, Milord.”
“Well then,” Parno told Nidiad, “let’s be off, shall we?”
*****
The ride to the King’s Prison outside Bingham was uneventful. The warden, a fat, red-faced and effusive man named Brickle made every effort to please the young prince.
Parno, Nidiad, and Willard spent most of the day interviewing prisoners. A number of the men they spoke to seemed ideal for their unit, while others seemed to try a bit too hard to seem ideal.
By the end of the day, another three dozen men had been added to the rolls of what everyone, save the prince, referred to as ‘Parno’s Company’. The warden assured the prince that the men and their families would be in Cove at the appointed time.
As the three men rode back onto town, Parno broached the subject of a name for the proposed regiment.
“Parno’s Company? Who in blazes came up with that?”
“I did, actually,” Willard replied, not the least put off. “The men will need a proper name for the unit in which they serve and you are the commander.”
“Darvo is the commander, Karls,” Parno pointed out. “I’m just along to give the project a royal boost and to keep me as far from my Father as possible, of course,” he added with a wry smile. Parno had never made an effort to hide the problems he had with his family. He had no intention of starting now, least of all with Karls Willard.
“That may be how it came about, milord,” Willard replied, “but my own men have already accepted as fact that you command. There is no grumbling, no murmuring, either. They are proud to serve with you. Whatever they may think of you elsewhere, you have earned the respect of these men and that’s not something that’s easily done.”
“I agree,” Nidiad spoke for the first time. “The regular soldiers of the King’s Army are not, by and large, easy to impress. Nor is their respect something that is freely given.”
“Look, it’s well and good in such a small setting, for you and them to feel that way,” Parno said. “And I’m honored, to be sure. Even more, if I’m honest, I’m pleased that I’ve been able to earn that respect. But the fact remains that I’m a figurehead. The only reason I was given this position was to get me out of Nasil.”
“Mission accomplished, then,” Karls grinned. “You are out of Nasil.”
“So I am,” Parno grinned back. “And up a creek.”
The three men shared a laugh at that, and the conversation turned to other matters as they continued back into town. The subject of Parno’s Company was raised no more.
*****
The trial lasted only a half day, a busy morning of testimony and sputtering. The former from Parno and his men, the latter from the priest. The Constable spoke only twice, once to point out that the priest had presented official looking documents supporting his claim of royal authority and again to apologize for his ineptitude.
In the end, the priest was sent to prison for ten years, the charge of attempted murder guaranteeing him a cell for that long. The constable was dismissed and given a much lighter sentence, two years. All in all, Parno was quite pleased with the outcome of the trial itself. Yet his concern about the root cause of the incident refused to go away.
Was the royal family that out of touch with what was going on in its Kingdom? He knew that he hadn’t made much effort to stay on top of events in the kingdom. There hadn’t seemed much point to it. He knew, now, that was an error in judgment.
The problem was one of communication as much as anything else, he knew. Situated in the second most northern province, it took a long time for a message to reach Nasil from the southern part of the kingdom. Even Royal courier relays required ten to twelve days to make the journey from the Sunshine Peninsula, and that was in good weather. If a faster, more reliable method of communication was possible, then such problems as the one he had encountered might be reported long before conditions grew so serious.
Then there was the matter of the Provincial Capital’s own Constabulary. Darvo had been right that the office was a mess. Parno had never had a reason to doubt the validity of Soulan’s Justice system. Now, he had two reasons. First there were the cases of Cho Feng and Brenack Wysin. There had been no justice there, Parno was certain. Now, the apparent lack of concern over a constable who was party to what amounted to a lynching, albeit with fire rather than rope, and the pitiful state of Bingham’s Constabulary. These two events had rocked Parno’s faith in his Kingdom’s justice system and he didn’t like that feeling.
In the end there wasn’t much he could do about it, Parno knew. He was able to circumvent things in both cases, but the fact that the incidents occurred at all was troubling in the extreme and he was powerless to do anything about it.
Parno decided he would lay the problem before Memmnon upon his return to Nasil. He was better placed to investigate such an upheaval, anyway. His words would also carry far greater weight than that of a black sheep prince who would never ascend to the throne.
*****
“So tell me, Roda, how it is that you invented this ‘blasting’ powder of yours.”
Finn looked at Parno. The two had not had much chance to speak since the prince had saved him from being burned alive. Between his work, which somehow involved prisons and the trial Parno had been quite busy. Now, as the group headed out of Alma, Parno had eased his horse into position alongside Finn’s wagon.
“I didn’t invent it, milord,” Finn replied, appearing to weigh his words with care. “I simply rediscovered something that the ancients used. Before the Dying.”
“Indeed?” Parno looked a tad surprised, though not shocked. “I didn’t think there was much left of their knowledge.” The world they lived in now was the by-product of a great dying time. Through the generations after that great dying much of the ancient’s knowledge had been lost. There were simply too few people left in the world at that time who were capable of understanding and preserving it.
True, some things had survived, such as the technology for windmills and the ability to harness certain element found in nature. But compared to what legend said of the ancient’s once proud world, it wasn’t much.
“There isn’t much in general use, that’s true,” Finn nodded. “The knowledge, at least some of it, remains, however. In books scattered throughout the kingdom and doubtless throughout the world for that matter. It’s a matter of finding those bits and pieces that we can still make use of today.”
“
And that’s something you do as what? A hobby?” Parno asked. “I remember you saying that you had been a teacher at some point.”
“I was, milord,” Finn nodded again. “I have served on the faculty at three of the King’s Universities, teaching chemistry, mainly. It was only recently that I retired to pursue my studies of the ancient’s knowledge full time.”
“Fascinating,” Parno shook his head. “I had no idea. I would imagine that you have read some very wonderful things, Roda Finn.”
“Very, milord,” Finn smiled.
“How did you come to study these things?” Parno asked, curious. “If so many believe that the knowledge is lost for all time, what made you look there at all?”