All the other men had taken their seats, while Lustral stood by his chair at the end of the room. Given his past, Will felt a strong urge to immediately take a seat at the opposite end, but that would be a mistake. He moved to his chair then gestured to Duke Lustral. “Please, sit.” It was a command, couched as a polite phrase. The other man’s face flickered with uncertainty for a moment, then he sat down.
Triumphant, Will sat last, casting his gaze over the table. All eyes were now on him. Trying to affect a relaxed demeanor, he put one hand on the back of his chair and addressed them, “For many of you, this is the first time we’ve met, so I’m sure you have certain doubts about the situation we find ourselves in. Rest assured, I intend to take full advantage of your talents, wisdom, and experience.” Pulling his chair out, he sat down. “Let’s start with a summary of what resources we will have come spring.”
Gregory Nicht, who had formerly been a knight before Lognion had granted him the title and lands of the late Baron Fulstrom, coughed nervously. “We put together a summary two weeks ago for Duke Lustral…”
Will frowned but did his best to cover his surprise. His gaze drifted to the man at the opposite end of the table. “Lord Lustral, I haven’t seen this report yet. Please give everyone an oral summary to bring us up to date.”
“Of course,” answered Lustral, fingering his fading salt-and-pepper beard unconsciously. “I didn’t mean to exclude you. I asked for the summary to prepare for today’s meeting.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “That’s fine, but in future send a copy to me as well, or better still, consult with me first.” Will could feel sweat starting to gather at his temples despite the cool air, and he hoped he didn’t look as nervous as he felt.
Duke Lustral dipped his head in acknowledgement and then launched into a summary of the troops they expected to muster, though perhaps the word ‘summary’ was a misnomer. He droned on for some time, listing nearly a hundred small nobles and knights along with the number of their expected levies. Eventually he came to the end of that and then began a briefer explanation of the standing army’s forces and which lords would be organized into which divisions. Will did his best to absorb everything, but he knew he would need to refer to the written document for serious study later. Lustral finally came to the actual summary. “All told, Terabinia will be able to field an army of thirty-two thousand and four hundred men organized into six divisions. Sub-Marshal Nerrow will lead Divisions Five and Six, with Division Six being under the command of his assistant, Commander Lambel. Sub-Marshal Spry will lead Divisions Three and Four, with Division Four being under the command of his assistant, Commander Bradshaw. Sub-Marshal Nicht will lead Divisions One and Two, with Division Two being commanded by his assistant, Commander Hargast.”
That delineated the majority of the command structure, with Will as Royal Marshal and Lustral as Field Marshal being in overall command of the three sub-marshals and their commanders. Will was curious which division his friend Tiny and his cousin Eric were in, but he was almost certain that it must be either Division One or Division Two, since those were under Fulstrom’s command.
Viscount Bradshaw cleared his throat, causing Lustral to glance at him, annoyance apparent in his features. Will took note of the expression. Is Lustral one of those that doesn’t get along with Martin? If so, it meant that the viscount had a powerful enemy. Will nodded at the nobleman. “Go ahead, Lord Bradshaw.”
“While our numbers are impressive, I’m not certain we can support that number once we cross the mountains into Darrow,” advised the viscount.
The new Baron Fulstrom spoke next. “If we can feed them here then we obviously have the food. Why can’t we feed them there?”
Martin Bradshaw played with his moustache. “It’s a matter of supply lines. The farther from home we go, the more wagons, horses, and men we have to dedicate to transporting food and supplies. This is complicated by the fact that everything must travel along a single pass through the mountains, and once past that we have to deal with the limited number of bridge crossings over the River Tyrafel. Currently we don’t control enough wagons to support a deep foray into Darrow, at least not with that many men.”
Duke Lustral spoke up. “Once we cross the pass and take control of Klendon our numbers will be diminished, both because of losses and because we will have to maintain a defense of Klendon. The same river you mentioned will make defending our rear supply line easier.”
Martin shook his head. “Even if we lose a quarter of the men, which I don’t like to consider, we still wouldn’t have enough wagons.”
Will hid a smile, thankful once again that he’d married the smartest woman in the kingdom. “Lord Nerrow, your daughter is a key leader of the Mothers of Terabinia, is she not?”
His father looked at him with faint surprise. Curious, he answered, “She is. Why do you mention it?”
Will began to explain, “They’ve devoted a great deal of their resources to creating their own logistics network to move food and supplies to parts of Terabinia that were worst hit by the last invasion—”
Duke Lustral interrupted, “Not a bad idea. You think we should ask the king to seize their resources for the war effort?”
Will frowned. That hadn’t been his idea at all. “No, simply that we can coordinate with them. They will be moving food and supplies in the same direction. Our forces will require more early on, which they can help with. Later they can redirect more of their efforts to feeding the dispossessed.”
“There won’t be any dispossessed in Terabinia,” countered Lustral. “We are the invaders this time, not the reverse.”
“The Mothers of Terabinia don’t confine their charitable goals to just our borders,” Will replied.
Baron Hargast seemed shocked. “Do you intend to let them feed our enemy?”
“Women and children are not our enemy, Lord Hargast. In fact, the opposite is true. The purpose of this campaign is to reunite our two nations into one. We speak the same language and share much of our history. Assuming we succeed, the people you propose to starve will be the citizens of a larger Terabinia.”
“They won’t be citizens until they’ve tasted our boot leather for a few generations,” said Duke Lustral, disgust obvious in his tone. “They made their choice when they chose to follow their blasphemous prophet.”
“That was generations ago, Duke Lustral,” argued Will. “These people had no choice in what their ancestors did. Moreover, I have promised to give His Majesty a functional asset to increase the power and might of Terabinia, not a war-torn husk. We are not going to burn and pillage our way through Darrow, because every farm, every mill, every town and city, is going to become part of the wealth of our greater nation once this war is brought to a close.”
The duke’s cheeks were beginning to color. “I’m not sure you’re thinking clearly, Lord Arenata. I’m aware that you aren’t of gentle birth, but surely as a native of Barrowden you bear some justifiable animosity against the people who burned your village?”
A vision flashed through Will’s mind, his little cousin Doug, being kicked to death by soldiers while Barrowden burned. The memory still filled him with anger, but the lesson he had learned was not the one that Duke Lustral seemed to expect. He caught the duke’s eye as he replied, “Have you ever seen a child kicked to death by soldiers, Lord Lustral?” When the other man didn’t reply, Will continued, “I have. I also saw my aunt dragged from her house and stabbed to death. I’m still furious about it, but the men that did it are dead now. What I won’t do, is repeat their mistakes by visiting the same kind of misery and suffering on the innocent citizens of another nation.”
“No one is advocating for the murder of children—” Lustral started to protest.
But Will cut him off, “No one ever advocates for it. But men easily become beasts in time of war. Whether it’s because of the cruelty we all hide in our hearts, or a reaction to the fear and adrenaline that comes in battle, I don’t know. What I do know
is that we must guard our actions carefully to avoid becoming the very thing we hate. Discipline and communication are key. Our soldiers will know what we expect of them, and they’ll also know the consequences for such behavior.”
The duke’s eyes narrowed to angry slits. “You intend to destroy morale by starting this war with warnings of what punishments will be meted out to men who fight too enthusiastically? Don’t be naïve. Certain things, while distasteful, are a necessary evil.”
“I was a soldier, Duke Lustral. I’ve stood shoulder-to-shoulder in a shield wall and felt the icy chill of fear as a thousand men came at us with their spears pointed at our hearts. What kept us in that wall weren’t thoughts of vengeance. Morale is built upon the trust of the men on either side of you, and that trust comes from training and discipline. Rewarding your soldiers by allowing them to rape and pillage doesn’t breed discipline, it degrades it.”
“You’re wrong,” said Lustral, grinding his teeth.
“You’re welcome to your opinion, Your Grace, but I’m the one that’s been put in charge of this campaign. Until such time as that changes, I expect everyone here to make sure their soldiers maintain proper discipline. I will outline exactly what that entails at our next meeting. Just remember this. We lead by example. Whether you agree with me or not, I expect you to make the men believe you do. I will hold not only the soldiers, but those in charge of them responsible for any barbarity. Depending on the circumstances, that could go all the way up to those of you in this room with me. Am I understood?”
“You don’t have the right!” spouted Lustral, outraged at the threat.
Will kept his face calm, or at least he hoped he did. “Here at home? No, I don’t. But from the moment you put your uniform on and we go marching to war, you will fall under my authority. Not only will I hold my officers to the same standard as our soldiers, I will hold you to a higher standard. As you pointed out earlier, I’m a peasant by birth. I don’t give a damn about conventions, etiquette, or titles. Cross me at your own risk, because I will have justice on any man who disobeys me, and consequences be damned! I never asked for this title. If the king decides I’ve overstepped my bounds and strips me of it after the war is done, I won’t complain, but don’t think your rank or station will prevent me from exercising my authority until that time comes.”
The room fell silent, and Lustral stared at him as though he’d grown a second head. After several seconds, Will spoke again. “I asked a question a moment ago. Am I understood?” The lords sitting around the table answered with a quick chorus of ‘yes sirs.’
Chapter 17
Two hours later, Will was walking home by himself, following the short road between the palace and the college. His father had tried to talk to him after the meeting, to warn him about the enemy he had made, but Will was too nervous to listen. It was all he could do to escape before the exhaustion that comes after too much adrenaline caught up with him. His legs felt shaky as he followed the familiar route home.
As he reviewed what had happened, it was hard not to doubt himself. He’d made a few allies and at least one dangerous enemy. Overall, he’d followed Selene’s advice, but he wasn’t sure that he hadn’t gone overboard in how he phrased things. She’d had a lifetime training in the art of diplomacy. He’d also been caught off-guard by the strength of his emotions when Lustral had mentioned the destruction of Barrowden.
Did I go too far? he wondered, but just then a strange feeling swept over him, as though he was being watched. Will lifted his gaze from the path and looked around. There was no one nearby, but something drew his eye to the trees to the right of the lane. A large owl sat on the limbs of a graceful elm, watching him with viridian eyes.
He’d seen the owl before, when Tailtiu had shape-changed into one, one with the same green eyes. Stopping dead in his tracks, he stared back for half a minute and then his lips muttered, “Tailtiu.” As soon as the name left his lips, he felt the connection. There was no doubt, it was her.
With a flash of wings, the owl lifted off and vanished through the trees, and within seconds he had lost sight of it.
He stared after her for several seconds. What was that about? he thought silently. She came to spy on me, but she won’t answer my call? No matter how long he considered it, it didn’t make sense. Unable to do anything else, he finished walking home, where he found Selene waiting for him.
He entered the house without a word, though she was standing just inside the door. From the side of one eye, he could see her watching him intently as he patiently scraped his boots before removing them. Although her outward expression was one of calm composure, he knew Selene was anxious to hear how the meeting had gone. Feeling contrary, he innocently asked, “Do you feel like some tea?”
“You’re tempting fate, you irksome man,” she growled quietly.
Will smirked. “You seem tense.”
“Spill it! How did it go?”
“I really would like some tea,” said Will, turning toward the kitchen door.
“Jeremy! Tea!” barked Selene, her voice carrying clearly through the reaches of the house.
Will silently envied her ability to make herself heard so easily. Because of the lower register of his voice, he had to yell twice as loudly to be understood, but her clear tones were intelligible from anywhere within their home. With a sigh, he told her, “You really take the joy out of things. I rather like making tea…”
She took him by the arm and led him toward the parlor. “Jeremy can get it. I want to hear everything that happened.”
Somehow, her anxiety dispelled the remnants of his own. What was done was done. Will carefully related what had happened, beginning with the conversations beforehand and leading up to his confrontation with Duke Lustral. Selene merely nodded at that point without commenting, which surprised him. She waited until he had summarized the more mundane matters of planning and logistics that had occupied the end of the meeting.
“That went relatively well,” she remarked at last.
His brows went up. “That’s it? You have nothing to say about my argument with Lustral?”
She shrugged. “You made a powerful enemy, but that was expected. I already knew the two of you would never be friends. Putting him in his place early on was the best outcome we could expect.”
You could have warned me then, he thought dourly. “They seemed surprised at the suggestion of getting the Mothers of Terabinia to assist with logistics. I was tempted to tell them you and Laina had already agreed to it.”
Selene shook her head. “It’s better this way. Your next meeting is a week away. That will give them time to realize the advantage and appreciate the idea better. Plus, this way it won’t seem like something I suggested. Instead, it was your idea and you convinced me to cooperate.”
“You really are sneaky.”
She sniffed. “I prefer cunning. Besides, at this point you need every advantage to persuade them to follow you.”
“They sort of have to,” observed Will.
“On the surface, yes,” she replied, “but if you don’t dispel their doubts, they could cause you all kinds of trouble with minor acts of defiance.”
“Well, good or bad, I think I made an impression. I stayed out of the way while some of the planning was brought up for discussion, other than to explain my idea for the magical support troops.”
She nodded. “It isn’t that unusual an idea, and while you may be completely new to leadership you’ve got more magical combat experience than any living sorcerer in Terabinia. Add that to the fact that you’ve actually stood in the line during a war and there’s no one more qualified to train the sorcerers for the upcoming campaign.”
Will’s cheeks flushed. “Thank you.”
She smiled. “It’s the simple truth, even though I might be a little biased. When will you meet with them?”
“Wednesday,” he answered. “I’ve got some ideas, but I need a sounding board to make sure I’m not crazy.”
“I’m all
ears.”
They discussed plans and ideas for the two hundred student sorcerers who would be accompanying the army until late into the afternoon, when Blake finally interrupted them with the news that dinner was ready.
***
A few days later Will found himself standing in front of two hundred of his fellow students. Once again, Selene had declined to join him, citing her belief that she would once again undermine his authority, but today he did have at least one old friend there to back him up. Janice Edelman stood beside him, looking uncomfortable to be standing in front of such a large crowd.
The students that were gathered were the same two hundred who had been given elementals by the king when the city had been dealing with a plague of vampires. None of them were strangers, as they had helped assist with the ritual that had saved the city. He knew a few of them by name, and many of them had faces that were familiar.
Of course, all of them knew him on sight, though whether that was because of fame or infamy was debatable.
They were gathered near the relatively new range that Will and a few others used to practice their aim with combat spells. A few feet to the right of Janice was a long, wooden table which held ponderous stacks of leather-bound travel journals. Unlike the more ordinary journals sold by the school, these had large flaps that folded over the edges before being tied shut by heavy thongs. The design was meant to protect the interior in the event of rain or other inclement weather.
He’d already given a short introductory speech, followed by instructions for them to move up and each take a copy from the table. One student, whose name he failed to recall, paused and looked inside before asking, “Are they supposed to be blank?”
Will nodded. “You’ll be filling the pages.” It took a while for the line to finish, and eventually everyone returned to their places in front of him. “Someone has already remarked on it, but you’ll notice the pages are blank.” He tried to project his voice, but he could tell that some were frowning as they failed to make out his words. I should have looked up a spell for sound projection, he chided himself.
Disciple of War (Art of the Adept Book 4) Page 15