by N. C. Reed
This announcement served to incite a flurry of activity as armor was cleaned and campsites straightened. No one wanted the new Lord Marshall to find them lacking.
Parno and his staff scattered among the various campfires, each man eating in a different unit’s area, listening to the men as they spoke of their actions so far. Parno himself dined with the Brigadier and his staff, but then walked the area, Sergeant Berry and his detail following dutifully.
Parno visited nearly two dozen different campfires, usually company sized affairs, always to the hasty jumping to stand to which he always waved easily away. He sampled the fair at each fire despite not being over hungry and spoke casually to the troopers inquiring about families, home towns, almost any subject rather than the war and the Nor Army not more than a mile distant.
To say that the soldiers were surprised was to put it mildly. But they were also impressed. The same easygoing, casual manner than had allowed Parno to gradually win over the prisoners that had eventually became the Black Sheep worked its same magic here. Men who were professional soldiers, had served in the ranks for years and never been near the previous Lord Marshall were left with a very favorable impression of their new leader. Parno’s only comment about the war itself was a simple one.
“We’re about to start making them sorry they came here.”
By the time a weary Prince of Soulan found his blankets the brigade, indeed the entire division, knew of his visit. Knew of it and found themselves taken with the quiet, unassuming prince and believing his simple statement. Victory would not be easy, nor without cost.
But there would be victory, never fear.
Before morning, the entire line would know that their Lord Marshall had slept on the open ground just as they had that night. Had eaten the same food they had eaten themselves and complained about it just as loudly.
*****
Parno and his staff were in the saddle before dawn and he completed his turn of the battle line following the same pattern as the day before. By now soldiers were expecting him and received him happily, eager to get a glimpse of a member of the Royal Family that would share the same hardships they themselves endured.
Parno was for the most part pleased with what he had found and said so to Enri Willard as they returned to Davies' headquarters in the late afternoon.
“I agree, milord,” Enri nodded. “I confess I expected things to be much worse. And I have to tell you milord that what you have done these past two days was a priceless gift to the men. Seeing you out along the line, sharing their hardship even for a night, was something special. Something that will be long spoke of in the Army or I am sadly fooled.”
“They deserve to know that I’m willing to share the same hardships they are to defend our home,” Parno shrugged. “And I am. The fact that my new position will prevent me from leading as I did at the Gap means that any chance I have to join them I have to take.”
“True,” Enri nodded. “Here, now, you will be directing, not leading. And there is a difference, to be sure. But, milord, word of how you defeated the Nor at the Gap has already spread throughout the Army. Thanks in part to my younger brother if I’m not mistaken,” he added, smiling.
“What do you mean?” Parno asked, then turned in the saddle. “Karls, what have you done?”
“Me, milord?” Karls replied, far too innocently. “Why nothing.”
“Then the Black Sheep circulating among the lines these past two days regaling the troops with word of Parno’s leadership at the Gap was their own doing?” Enri asked, eyebrows raised.
“They are a talkative bunch,” Karls shrugged but there was a light of devilry in his eyes.
“We don’t need to give them false hope, Karls,” Parno chided gently. “There were a great many factors working in our favor at the Gap that we will not have here.”
“I know that, milord,” Karls nodded. “But please consider. This army is about to go into battle under a new commander. One unknown to them other than, well, your ah, previous exploits, let’s call it,” he grinned. “They need to know that you’ve proven yourself on the battlefield. And there’s no better way for that to spread through this army than from the mouths of the soldiers who followed you into battle.”
“I know you don’t like to speak of it, Parno,” Karls rode closer, lowering his voice. “But your exploits at the Gap are the kind of thing that legends are made of. You fought shoulder-to-shoulder with common soldiers, in a desperate last stand where your death and theirs was averted only by the arrival of the King and his men literally at the last moment. That’s the kind of thing they write poems, songs and books about, Parno.”
“I just don’t want them thinking that we’ll be able to pull of something like that here,” Parno sighed in acceptance. “We’re not going to make a hash of this force like we did there. We don’t have the terrain on our side and more importantly we don’t have any of Roda Finn’s gadgetry with us.”
“We will soon,” Karls spoke confidently. “He won’t let us down.”
“It’s not him letting us down I worry about,” Parno said softly. “It’s us buying him the time to make his magic happen again.”
The rest of the ride was silent.
*****
“Billy, Carl, come here!” Roda shouted from the doorway of his new office.
“Yes, Master Roda,” the two answered in unison, leaving the group of workers they had been supervising with strict instructions not to touch anything until they returned.
Roda surveyed the building they occupied, on the extreme outskirts of Nasil. The building was, or had been, a foundry, and its sturdy construction was considered ideal for the dangerous work Roda and his crews would be doing.
Raw materials were still arriving in bulk, and one of his new assistants, a very bright young military engineer by the name of Theodore Belkin was in charge of the unloading and storing of the supplies.
Roda tried not to show it, but he was feeling the strain of his new position as Master Ordnance Officer for the Soulan Army. It was in fact a new position entirely, based on his own work. It was not the position itself that worried Roda, but the fact that Parno was depending upon him to produce as much ‘ordnance’ as possible, in as short a time as possible.
Prince Memmnon had been true to his word however and no expense was being spared in equipping and manning the Foundry. The name had stuck fast and Roda saw no reason to change it. He would have preferred Arsenal, a term of the Ancients, but it was of no importance.
Prince Memmnon had provided Roda with an educated and skilled workforce, many of whom were women. Roda’s conscience tinged at that, believing that women had no place in such danger, but they were strong, intelligent and willing to work in the dangerous environment for the opportunity to serve their kingdom. No one could fault their bravery or their patriotism.
Roda put those thoughts aside as his two principle assistants arrived.
“How is the training going?” he asked.
“Very well, sir,” Carl answered for them both. “Everyone here is quite intelligent and when they don’t understand have no qualms about asking for clarification. Everyone we’ve trained so far has both a steady hand and a keen eye. I don’t think we could have asked for any better material.”
“I agree, sir,” Billy nodded. “They are eager and while afraid they are not handicapped by their fear.”
“Good,” Roda nodded. “Anyone who isn’t afraid of just being in here is a fool and we don’t need them within a mile of this building. Keep that in mind as you watch them. I hate the thought of women being involved in this kind of work,” he spoke his own fear.
“I understand, sir,” Carl nodded. “But they are doing quite well. And there is a shortage of able bodied men because of the war.”
“I know,” Roda sighed. Most of the men working at the Foundry at present were either too old to serve in the ranks or disqualified by some disability or other. “How long do you estimate before we can begin production?”<
br />
“Day after tomorrow, in limited quantities,” Billy answered at once and Carl backed him up.
“Really?” Roda couldn’t hide his surprise. They’d been at it less than two weeks after all.
“Yes, sir,” Billy assured him. “We’ve reached a point in training where hands on work is soon to be required. Also, I believe that the bomb casings are already being poured as are the spike’s for the Hubbel Arrows.”
Roda nodded, knowing this was true. Other foundries were already tooling to pour the thousands of smaller iron balls needed for the mines and the arrows.
“We need to be producing quickly, but we can’t afford any mistakes,” Roda stressed.
“Any kind of accident here would not only set us back in supporting the Lord Marshall but also cost us trained workers. I cannot stress enough the importance of safety. Neither can you,” he added.
“It’s our first rule, sir,” Carl promised. “And the people sent to us really are quite bright, Master Finn. We’re very fortunate in that.”
“Good,” Roda nodded, his voice more confident. “Then we’ll prepare to begin limited production day after morrow, correct?”
“Yes, sir,” both assistants answered in unison.
“All right then, back to it,” he shooed them away. “We’ve no time to waste.”
He watched as the two hurried back to their prospective teams, already shouting for various workers to attend to them. Roda turned back to his own office, satisfied that things in the Foundry were well in hand. Despite his often ill treatment of his chief assistants he trusted them to handle their work. Carl and Billy had been with him from the beginning, when they worked in cramped conditions at Cove Canton. They knew their business of building, or at least assembling, the ‘ordnance’ as well as he did.
Which left Roda free to do something no one was better at than he was. Design new weapons.
His ballista rounds had been a disappointment. When they worked, they worked quite well. When they didn’t, the results were catastrophic. A round had exploded on its rail at the Gap, causing a rupture in the fortifications that nearly resulted in the loss of the entire line. As a result, the weapons were removed from use.
Since then, Roda had been trying to figure a way to make use of the weapons that would ensure the safety of the artillerymen and still be effective. Using them as direct fire weapons on the ballista was out. Nothing Roda could think of had made the weapons more reliable or safer to use.
He was still convinced however that the weapons could be used. Perhaps not in their current state, but in some way. A more or less directed weapon that, when fired, would fall among the enemy and cause maximum damage as well as shock value. The weapons worked, in so far as causing damage. It was the delivery system that was unreliable. Even dangerous.
A casual conversation with Cho Feng had given Roda an idea, one that he had shared with no one else as yet. Not because of any trust issues but because he simply wasn’t sure it would work. And he had yet to develop a plan, or even an idea of a plan, to develop it.
Thus it was that Billy and Carl would supervise the work in the Foundry for now, while Roda went back to his design table. There had to be a way to make his idea work. Soulan needed every advantage it could get. Parno McLeod needed it. And Roda Finn promised himself if no one else that he would not fail Parno McLeod.
CHAPTER THREE
-
Stephanie Corsin-Freeman arrived at Cumberland House just before lunch. Edema Willows was sitting on the front porch with Dahlia Nidiad and both rose to wave at the carriage. Stephanie’s escort, ten men from the Black Sheep who were well enough to work but not yet well enough to stand the rigors of combat, rode around to the corral where the Willows’ servants waited to help care for the horses and see to lunch for the men.
“Hello, dear,” Edema kissed Stephanie’s cheek lightly. “How was the ride over?”
“Uneventful,” Stephanie smiled. “Hello, Dahlia,” Stephanie smiled.
“Hello, Doctor,” Dahlia smiled slightly in return. The young woman was still suffering from the death of her father at the Gap. Add to that was the fact that Karls Willard, whom she had grown very fond of, was now far to the west with Parno and Dahlia had little to be happy about these days.
“Dahlia, please call me Stephanie,” the doctor insisted. “We’re practically the same age for goodness sake and it’s not like we don’t know each other!”
“Yes, Stephanie,” Dahlia smiled again, perhaps a bit brighter this time.
“We’ll be having lunch soon, dear,” Edema told Stephanie. “I assume you’ll be joining us? Perhaps stay the night?”
“Would it be an imposition if I did?” Stephanie asked. “I would like to talk to you about something rather. . .personal,” he cheeks colored. Edema smiled.
“You are never an imposition, dear, you know that,” the older woman assured her. There was little doubt in her mind what the young doctor wanted to talk about.
“Then, yes, I will. Will the escort be a problem?” She was not allowed to go anywhere off the Canton without an escort. By orders of Parno himself. While Stephanie wielded a good deal of power herself, no one would dare defy Parno McLeod. Especially not where Lady Corsin-Freeman’s safety was concerned.
“Of course not,” Edema assured her. “We were always accustomed to Parno’s escort.” Edema’s face faltered for just a second at the thought of those happier times, but she recovered quickly. “I’ll have Benson see to their quartering. And you shouldn’t be so put out by them, dear. There is a possibility of marauders in this area after all.”
Stephanie nodded, understanding Edema’s meaning. It was possible that Nor troopers who had survived the battle at the Gap could be roaming the countryside, though no one had seen or heard of any so far.
Stephanie followed the other two women through the grand house out onto the veranda where lunch was waiting for them. The three of them talked pleasantly while consuming the light lunch, exchanging items of news and discussing recent events. Finally, with the meal finished, Edema leaned back in her seat and smiled at the young physician.
“So, you’ve set your cap for Parno, have you?” Her tone was conversational and it took Stephanie a minute to realize what the older woman had said.
“I beg your pardon?” was her instant reply, eyes darting toward Dahlia.
“Oh, please,” the younger woman raised a hand to ward off objection. “Parno and I were raised together. It’s not like I’d want him around all the time.” A bright smile robbed her words of any sting and Stephanie found herself smiling in return.
“Am I so obvious?” she asked, hating the heat on her face.
“Well, perhaps not to strangers,” Edema admitted. “However, let’s be honest, dear. Your arguments are the stuff of legend among the people at Cove Canton.” Stephanie’s face grew even redder at that, realizing the truth of the statement.
“He is just so. . .so. . . .” she sputtered.
“Obstinate?” Dahlia supplied. “Pig-headed? Stubborn? Immovable? Stop me when I get warm,” she laughed.
“So you do know him well,” Stephanie sighed and Dahlia laughed out loud. Edema was secretly thrilled to hear the sound of the girl laughing. She had been through a great deal of late and this was the first time Edema had heard Dahlia laugh since the younger woman had come to stay at Cumberland House.
“I do, indeed,” Dahlia nodded, unaware of Edema’s scrutiny. “And I’m guessing you’ve got it pretty bad or you wouldn’t be here.”
“What makes you say that?” Stephanie asked.
“You’re here to ask Edema what to do about him,” Dahlia said, as if she was announcing some great state secret.
“I might as well be wearing a sign,” Stephanie grumped, leaning back in her chair. “I tried to make him take me with him west, but he flatly refused.”
“As well he should have,” Edema said at once. “The campaign field is no place for a woman, Stephanie.”
“I was
with him at the Gap!” Stephanie complained. “How much worse could it be?”
“You were there for a few days of fighting, the rest was camp life,” Edema reminded her. “The battle in the west is being fought daily. There will be no down time, no waiting, no privacy of any kind. You have no business being there.” She leaned forward.
“And you would be a distraction that Parno does not need. Not now.”
“What?” Stephanie spluttered.
“Oh, my dear girl,” Edema leaned back again, fanning herself slightly. “It’s obvious that he cares for you very much.”
“It’s not so obvious to me,” she admitted.
“Yes it is,” Dahlia almost giggled. “Face it, Stephanie. You’ve met someone who is just as stubborn as you are and isn’t cowed by your family’s name or influence.”
Stephanie’s face clouded as she heard that, not wanting to admit that it might, might mind you, be true.
“I’m afraid Dahlia has you pegged, dear girl,” Edema smiled gently. “She and I know Parno fairly well, she much better than I. If we can see his concern, his attraction to you, then I assure you it’s there.”
“Then why wouldn’t he-” Stephanie began, but stopped as she realized the question had already been answered. Parno didn’t need the distraction of her being with him in the field. Intellectually, she knew that to be true.
“Stephanie, the best way you can help Parno now is to finish the work you’ve started at Cove Canton,” Edema interrupted her thoughts. “He needs, his army will need, the people you train to treat their sick and wounded. Without you, without your students, men who might otherwise live will almost certainly die. Men that Soulan needs right now more than ever.” Edema paused, as if considering her next words carefully. Finally, she seemed to come to a decision of some kind.