Stoc (A New Druids Series Book 3)

by Donald D. Allan

  "Sir?" probed the Colonel a little more forcefully.

  The Baron gave a drawn-out sigh and turned his head toward the Colonel. "Yes, what is it this time?"

  "We seem to have resolved some of the kinks in the formation, sir. We've sorted out the pulling horses and paired them better. We should make better time now, sir."

  "You're blaming the horses?"

  The Colonel opened his mouth and then closed it. The Baron raised an eyebrow at him. "Sir? No, of course not."

  "It sounded exactly like that. I need this army moving faster, Colonel. Am I being clear?"

  "Yes, sir, very clear. We are doing our best. The soldiers are a mix of experiences, sir. My men and women from the battalion are not used to marching like this. Garrison work is much more sedentary. Also, if I may speak freely, the garrison men and women are not always open to responding to my orders. This is causing problems."

  The Baron ground his teeth. He couldn't hide his anger and he drew satisfaction seeing the glint of fear in the Colonel's eyes. "Then Colonel, I suggest you find a way to become the leader you have been promoted to. I can't say I am surprised to hear the men and women are struggling. They could barely hold their own against those invaders. Plus, women shouldn't be allowed in the army. They slow everything down."

  The Colonel's face flashed with an expression that the Baron was sure was disgust and he glared at him. The Colonel mashed his lips together and said nothing for a moment. "Sir, as you say. You might be interested to know the garrison women are helping share the load off the backs of our own men. Now sir, I must go back and make sure this train stays steady. I beg your leave."

  The Baron's face flushed crimson. He opened his mouth to yell at the insolence and then shut it. He thought for a moment and then smiled. "Better yet, call a halt. Have my tent set up over at that lovely meadow. We'll start moving again in an hour."

  The Colonel stared back at the Baron with a blank face. The Baron could see the muscles at his jaw flex and twist and he grinned wider.

  "Have I made my wishes clear, Colonel?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Then carry them out."

  The Colonel saluted and then yelled out for the train to halt.

  Two hours later the train was moving again. The Colonel was pleased to see that it was moving at a brisker rate. His officers were moving through the garrison soldiers and correcting everything from how to wear a backpack to how to properly wear a sword when marching. He was very concerned about their future. He knew they were marching toward Munsten and would see battle against the army of the Realm. He had expressed concern with the Admiral before they had left Jergen.

  "This is suicide, Admiral."

  "Yes, perhaps."

  "And?"

  The Admiral had laughed, surprising the Colonel. "And? Why then we win, of course! What other option do we have?" The Admiral had sobered then and laid a hand on Robert's shoulder. "You're a good man, Robert. This is a shitty time to be in the military but what other options do we have? The Realm is in ruin. What you may not be hearing is that the towns and villages in the north and south are starting to rise. The same fear that struck our people during the Revolution is rising again. This time the swing is to the Church. Fear needs something to bring it back down. Across the land people are turning to the Church for answers and getting answers that will see us descend into anarchy.

  "You say suicide, I say we fight to do our duty. We swore oaths to the Realm. I mean to uphold mine. It is on our shoulders that the future lives of everyday citizen depends. So, we fight. We do our best. I expect every man and woman to do his or her part.

  "I understand your fear and share it. You march with a man I love, but know in my heart is a fool. He will need your leadership in the end. Mark my words. You are not his to command. Remember I tell you this: I am the senior officer in the Realm who sees the threat for what and where it is. I order you to get this band of unlikely soldiers working together.

  "This is a difficult task. You will need to do this despite the Baron. Do you understand?"

  Robert nodded. "I do, sir. Thank you."

  The Admiral looked sad then. "You're welcome, Robert. I'll leave you with a little information that might give you hope. Steve Comlin should join you, I hope. I am certain he is off to convince a group of people that Comlin says will change the tide of this war. He's a brilliant man. Expert military man and tactician. He gives me hope. I hope he does for you, too."

  Robert smiled at the news. "I liked that fellow. And his second, that one armed woman Franky. It was his crew that turned the tide in Jergen. We would have lost many more men." Robert hesitated a moment. "And your guns of course, sir."

  "Ah, my guns. The secret will be out soon. Then everyone will have them. Frightening things. Devastating. I almost threw up when we first hit that ship. A lot of my crew did, too. It's too powerful. No honour. Still, it made a difference." The Admiral took stock of Robert. He looked him up and down. "You'll be fine, Robert. Stay strong. Hold your tongue around the Baron. He's a child and spiteful. He likes to make peoples' lives difficult."

  "Thank you, sir. I appreciate the honesty and the trust."

  "Cheers, Robert, safe travels."

  Robert shifted his focus back to the present and directed his horse alongside Major William Crenshaw. He was the only officer to survive the garrison slaughter in the parade square. They had developed a friendship of sorts. Recently having been a major, Robert understood the role the man had to play and was counting on him to rectify some of the more difficult soldiers they had. "Morning, Bill," he said as way of greeting. The man responded better to informal chatter.

  "Robert," he replied and smiled. "Looks like another good day to be heading north, eh?"

  Robert made a show of scanning the skies. "True. Not much cloud. Just blue sky."

  Bill smiled and looked forward. They were at the middle of the train and up ahead it bent sharply to the left with the road. They were making good speed. Already four miles had passed since the morning late start. Bill stayed with the food carts as directed by Robert. They had the heaviest load and needed a constant eye to make sure the drivers were paying attention to the road.

  Robert watched one of the horses pulling the cart next to him reach over and try to bite the horse next to him. The driver gave a quick whip, and the horse turned his head back to the road. "I want to introduce some night training."

  Bill looked over at Robert in surprise. "Night training? What do you mean?"

  "After evening meal, while there is still daylight, I want the soldiers practicing with their weapons."

  "Bow, too?"

  "Yes, and shield work. We need to get your garrison working seamlessly with my men. That means formations. Defensive positions. The works. We're too different."

  Bill rode in silence for a long moment before he spoke again. "I understand. I'll make it happen. Leave it to me."

  Robert tried to hide his surprise and Bill saw his face and chuckled a little. "Robert, Steve Comlin would have had much stronger words with me than that. At least you respect me a little. Thanks. I understand what you want and why. I'll speak with the others and make them understand. You would think we were just off for an exercise, eh? Marching up the road for a lark. I can see your concern and share it. If we're not ready, we die. Time to get ready."

  Robert felt his respect for Bill rise in that moment. A stirring of hope spun round in his stomach somewhere in the middle and a knot loosened just a little and he smiled at Bill. "Good man, Bill. Thanks."

  "My pleasure. Sir."

  Robert's head tilted back a little at the honorific.

  "Haha!" said Bill. "I respect you, Robert. I'll give you a sir now and then."

  "Ha," chuckled Robert. "Good man. Tonight, okay? We start tonight. At this rate, we should get a good month's worth of training in. One last thing, this is your idea, alright? You and Major Tibert."

  Bill looked up forward to where the Baron was likely plodding along on his wide p
iebald. Easily his horse was the slowest of the lot. Somewhere in that dust cloud the Baron was moping his brow and complaining about his ass. Everyone could see he hated the Colonel and no one could figure out why. He looked at Robert and nodded. "Okay."

  Two weeks later, the Turgany Army approached the Crossroads. To anyone who might have observed the soldiers leaving Jergen they would not have recognised the troops before them now. They were cohesive and professional. Even the Baron up front seemed to sit taller in his saddle. Colonel Sibbald was pleased with the Majors Crenshaw and Tibert. They had pulled the men and women together. Friendships amongst the soldiers had formed, and they had bonded. They were brothers and sisters at arms. Robert knew they were far from perfect but they were as good as they would get. And hopefully that will be good enough, he thought.

  The Crossroads was a hamlet of sorts pulled together by the commerce that tracked along the two major roads that crossed the area. The northern road led to Munsten and fed the trade from the southern Turgany County and Portsmouth. The eastern road pulled in the goods from Curachan and the western road the goods from Salt Lake City and beyond.

  Inns and pubs lined the roads one deep. Craftsmen sold their wares and a traveller could get any manner of trade work done; from blacksmithing to barrel repair. They would likely leave the Crossroads with women trailing behind, looking to earn coin during the evenings. His officers would turn a blind eye and allow it. Better the pleasures of life than just the prospect of a grim death. Robert shook the gloom from his thoughts and urged his horse forward to be with the Baron as they entered the area.

  The Baron turned his torso toward him as he approached. "Ah, Colonel. Timely. The scouts have reported favourably?"

  "Yes, my Lord. The crossroads are clear of the enemy troops. No sign."

  "Good, I wish to spend two days here."

  Robert had been told this three times in the past two days. "Yes, my Lord. Two days."

  "Give the men... and women... time off."

  "Liberty, aye, sir."

  "Don't correct me."

  "Sorry, sir."

  'Two days."

  "Yes, sir. Where will you be?" The Baron started to look angry and Robert continued. "Sir, in case we need to hurry out of the Crossroads. It would help to know your whereabouts."

  "Yes, well. Ask my major. You know who."

  "Tibert, sir."

  "Yes, Tibert. If you need me, see Tibert, he'll find me."

  Colonel Sibbald drew his horse a little closer to the Baron so he could speak quietly. "No sir, that's not how this works. I am the senior officer of this army. You will tell me where you are so I can plan accordingly. I will not report to a major." Although he kept his voice low, a few of the soldiers nearby heard the words and heard the chill in them. They grinned at one another and prodded each other to pay attention.

  "Colonel Sibbald! You will speak to me with respect!"

  "My Lord, I am speaking to you as the master of military matters. The time is coming when this army will face great odds. Where you are at the Crossroads must be clear with me at all times."

  The Baron had turned crimson. He looked around to see if anyone had been listening and saw only a few faces turned aside. "Colonel Sibbald, you've gone too far. Your insolence and insubordination is too much!" The Baron yelled out for Major Crenshaw and yelped when his horse pulled up on the other side of him.

  "My Lord, you called?"

  The Baron sputtered. "Yes, I did! Congratulations, Major Crenshaw, you are now Colonel Crenshaw. Colonel Sibbald, you are no longer required. You are dismissed."

  Bill looked at Robert. He shrugged in return and smiled. "Sir, thank you. Where can I find you at the Crossroads?"

  "The Inn of the Spiked Wyvern."

  "Thank you, sir." Bill looked over to Robert.

  "Excellent, Colonel," replied Robert.

  The Baron sputtered again. His cheekbones turned a deep crimson and his cheeks were spotted with broad white blotches. "You are dismissed, Colonel Sibbald!"

  "Yes, sir, so you said."

  "Leave!"

  "I'm afraid I can't do that, sir. I was placed in charge of this Army by the Admiral. He told me the only person who can remove me from my duty is the Admiral himself. My oath is to the Realm, sir."

  "That's preposterous! This is my army! Mine! If I decide to send your sorry ass packing, I will!"

  "Begging your pardon, sir. Again, that's not correct. I am the head of the army that left Jergen. You agreed with the Admiral to merge our army with the garrison. The Admiral promoted me and placed me in charge and in command. You are not in authority and cannot dismiss me, sir."

  The Baron erupted into a long diatribe of expletives that had the army hiding their laughter along the entire train. He finally became too winded to continue and heaved great gulps of air and wheezed.

  Major Crenshaw waited until the silence stretched out and for the Baron to breathe a little easier. "Begging your pardon, sir. It wouldn't do to have two Colonels. Can I wait for my promotion until after the war before I accept?"

  The next day, Colonel Sibbald and Major Crenshaw met over by the camp entrance. The army was spread out in a military square, tents arranged in order, horses off to one side, and the ablutions downwind. It was a standard military setup, and the army was adept now at setting it up and striking it down. They had positioned the camp blocking the north road out of the crossroads. They were stopping all traffic heading north from warning the city of Munsten. Scouts ranged well outside the camp to search for spies and so far, had reported seeing nothing.

  The Colonel had agreed to cycle through their people for liberty and gave the task over to the junior officers to manage. A small desk was setup in a tent and a small line formed of those lucky to be next to head into the pubs for a drink or two. The sergeants were in the pubs watching the soldiers and making sure order was maintained. It was a smooth operation and Robert was impressed.

  "They're looking good, Bill."

  "Thank you, sir. You were right about the shield drill, by the way. I think we've corrected the surge in the centre. We should be able to hold the line solid now." Bill looked around the camp. Soldiers milled about fulfilling tasks or sitting relaxed off duty drinking tea or water. It was orderly and made Bill proud to see. It was a combined effort but the main effort had been his. He felt professional pride for the first time and had Robert Sibbald to thank for it.

  "Are you heading into the pubs?" asked Robert.

  "No, sir. I thought I would stay sober and keep an eye on a couple of the young lance corporals. They have a reputation for losing their control after long exercises. They see beer and decide to swim in it. Then they find fights or create them. I've tagged them with two of our more stable corporals to watch over them."

  "Good idea, we don't want trouble here. What about the other thing?"

  "Done. We're watching the Baron. Major Tibert's on him all the time. Pardon the expression."

  "Hmm. Good."

  "You've likely noticed by now: my soldiers and yours are as thick as thieves."

  "Yes, good to see that. Nothing better than knowing the soldier beside you has your back. We're in a better place now than we once were. You and Major Tibert have everything running smoothly."

  "Yes, sir. Makes me proud to see the men and women working so well together."

  "You should be, Bill. It's your leadership. You've earned the right to brag about this."

  Bill looked away a little embarrassed. He looked up to the Colonel. Not that long ago they were the same rank but he could see the leader he now was, and he was a man worth following. He couldn't think of a better man to lead this army. He wasn't alone in that. The soldiers of this piecemeal army trusted him. They watched him all day long moving up and down the line never tiring. He knew most by name and could share a joke and remember a tale a soldier might risk telling him. Many were comparing him to the Bairstow brothers, and that was heavy praise. He knew Robert pretended not to hear. Bill had met Brent B
airstow a few years back at a military symposium in Munsten. The man sweated confidence. He filled a room with his presence and heads turned to follow him and ears soaked up his every word.

  Just then there was a cry from someone in the camp and many pointed up to the north. Both men turned to the sound. A cloud was kicked up and drifting eastward with the winds. Bill looked to the duty officer and he could hear him already calling out orders and bringing the camp to alert. The duty watch quickly formed up and moved to the road. Shields and pikes bristled as they form a phalanx.

  The soldiers in the camp, quickly grabbed weapons and shields and formed up in similar phalanxes beside the first. Robert and Bill stood to the side and watched the cloud get closer. The captains in the centres of the phalanxes called out orders, and the shields braced and locked together with a solid single sound.

  "What do you think, sir?" asked Bill to Robert.

  "I'm not sure, it's too small a cloud to be not much more than a hundred men. That many men on horseback means they're an army for sure but too small to be from the President. Unless he means to parley. This does not bode well, I think we are about to test out the troops."

  "Yes, sir."

  "Dammit, the scouts should have picked this band up."

  Bill grunted.

  Tension filled the air. The army knew this was no exercise. They had fought in Jergen and been bloodied but this would be the first test of their new fighting prowess. Robert felt a trickle of sweat go down his spine. The cloud grew larger and the sound of hooves thundered in the still late-summer air.

  "Steady!" cried out the captain in the phalanxes.

  The army as one responded with the battle cry "For the Realm!"