“When?”
“Three weeks ago, Most Excellent General.” Captain Evenston bowed again.
“Send another patrol, a heavy one. I want to know what’s happening out there.” General Gavington turned and began pacing his study, his hands clasped tightly behind his back.
“With your permission, Most Excellent General, we need more magi for the patrols. All of the lesser magi are in service.” Captain Evenston bowed low, hoping that he hadn’t overstepped himself.
General Gavington turned to look at the captain, frowning. “What happened to our magi, Captain?”
“Most Excellent General, we lost eight magi with the towns in the area, and three with the first patrol. All others we might have used are already in place. With all due respect, Most Excellent General, we need an Adept. Six of the eleven missing magi were Masters.” Captain Evenston stood at attention when he made his request, knowing that the only Adept in the command was the general himself.
General Gavington looked closely at the captain, looking for some sign of deceit. Finding none, he nodded. “Very well. Have my valet lay out my winter gear. I want one hundred men ready to ride at sunrise. We will see what’s happening to our people.”
General Gavington rode out of his command post three hours after sunrise the next morning. One hundred picked men, along with eight Masters he had pulled off other duties, rode behind him. They had a long way to travel to reach Covan’s Bridge, the closest of the towns that had not reported, and the general was not in the mood to waste time.
Three days passed as the force rode on. Nothing out of the ordinary happened. Every town and hamlet was neat and orderly. Every post reported no unusual happenings. The general was beginning to think he was on a fool’s errand as he neared Covan’s Bridge.
Then he saw the stockade across the road.
Raising his hand, the general halted his troops. “Magi, to the front!” he called, causing his corps of Masters to join him.
Master Mage Vandin bowed in his saddle to his general. “Most Excellent General, with your permission, I will ride forward and ascertain the nature of our opponent.”
The general nodded and watched as his most powerful Master rode up to the gate across the road. “I am Master Mage Orland Vandin, servant of the Most Excellent General Gavington. Who dares to bar our way?”
*
Corporal Mesta Wainwright had been on long-range scout when she’d seen a column of men ride into Esthom, the next town up the road from Covan’s Bridge. Beating a hasty retreat, she’d run the night through to reach Lieutenant Sheridan.
“Lieutenant,” she panted as she gulped air, “there’s a large contingent of men riding in from the east. They’re in Esthom now. I think they were stopping for the night.”
“How many, Mesta?” Java asked as she placed a mug of hot kay in her friend’s hand.
“Couldn’t count exactly, but about a hundred. The leader was dressed out real nice. Lots of gold glinting in the sun.” Mesta sipped the hot kay to relieve her frozen throat and breathed the steam for her cold-burned lungs.
“We need to reinforce Covan’s Bridge, Java. I want the triplets up there along with whatever troops are ready to fight.” Lieutenant Sheridan looked Java in the eye and grinned as the princess quickly departed, still following orders like a scout.
The triplets, Java and Robin, and two hundred volunteers from the Army of Lender’s Dale made their way to Covan’s Bridge during the early morning, bringing the total number of defenders to three hundred. Non-combatants who would go were sent to Brian’s Ford or on into Greencastle. Those who wouldn’t flee were put to work supplying the fighters with hot food and drink.
It was late in the day before General Gavington’s force reached Covan’s Bridge. As the mage rode forward, the triplets surveyed the enemy.
“This one is a Master, Java, but the pretty one up front is an Adept. Not a very high Adept, but an Adept nonetheless. There are seven more Masters besides this one. We’re going to have to take the Adept while Robin and the others do what they can against the Masters.”
Java nodded and glanced at Samantha. “I really hate having you here, Sam. This could get nasty.”
“I have to be here, Java. Even Lieutenant Sheridan admits that. She doesn’t like it, but she admits it.” As Master Vandin shouted up, Sam looked Java in the eye and grinned. “I think I will do the honors. Think he’ll be surprised?”
Sam came out into clear view to answer Master Vandin’s question. “I am Duchess Samantha of Lender’s Dale,” she shouted to the general, ignoring the Master below her. “Who are you?”
Master Vandin launched a magebolt at Sam, only to see it spatter harmlessly against shields he hadn’t even detected. Then an arrow shot out from a hole in the wall so close to the ground that he hadn’t noticed it. He hadn’t thought to shield himself from physical attack, either. No one had ever dared to attack Frander’s Army. His arrogance cost him his life as the arrow sliced through his chest from the side, spitting his heart and lungs.
General Gavington saw Vandin go down, surprised by the simplicity of the action: They had distracted him, then shot him. Readying his own shields to deflect such mundane things as arrows, he ordered the attack. Riding forward at a gallop, he launched magebolt after magebolt against the Covan’s Bridge stockade, but to no avail. Someone was shielding the entire wall.
The triplets had linked and thrown up their most powerful shield around Samantha as soon as she stepped forward. Java had slipped away and taken a position at an arrow slit off to the side. Their tactics had been set well in advance. Once the first mage was down, the triplets went to work against Frander’s force.
Mayrie led her sisters in an attack against General Gavington. Though he was an Adept, he was no match for the combined powers of the triplets. Mayrie’s magebolt sliced through his shields like they weren’t even there, killing him and his horse instantly.
The Masters that General Gavington had brought along as his back-up stared in horror as their master was killed. Their tactics turned from attack to defense, each seeking nothing more than to escape. But there was no escape from the triplets. Mage after mage fell as arrows rained down on the fighters. Men who had won engagement after engagement fell as their magi failed to protect them. A cheer rose above Covan’s Bridge as the last of the attackers fell.
“We did it!” Samantha yelled, bouncing up the stairs to where Java was standing beside Robin.
Java nodded, not taking her eyes from the killing ground below. The bodies of men and horses littered the ground like storm tossed sticks. Interspersed with the dead were the dying. Some of them were moaning, some crying pitifully for help, and a few poor souls screamed in agony. Samantha quieted when she heard and saw the carnage.
“Java, what do we do?” she asked, her eyes fixed on the men below her.
“We do nothing, Sam. Let the troops handle this.” She turned away and placed an arm around Samantha’s shoulders, guiding her down the stairs so she wouldn’t witness the slaughter. Duke Kaster and the assembled captains had agreed: No prisoners were to be taken from among Frander’s regular forces.
*
The Battle of Covan’s Bridge, as the fight became known, was the first major fight in the effort to retake Lender’s Dale. Samantha, however, was forever more to think of it as “The Slaughter.” The bodies of one hundred and nine men were piled up and burned before sunset, darkening the sky with smoke. The dead horses had been taken away to be butchered, food for the Army of Lender’s Dale.
Sam had never been near a large pyre before, and the smell drove her running and retching out of Covan’s Bridge. Java rode up beside her, leading her horse, and Samantha mounted on the run. “Get me away from here, Java! Please! I have to get away!” Samantha sobbed.
“Ride hard, Sammy. We won’t stop until we reach Brian’s Ford,” Java shouted back, staying beside Samantha all the way.
In their room in the Dragon, Samantha threw herself on the bed and bur
ied her face in the pillows, sobbing. “Oh, Java, you told me, but I never believed it. I never believed anything could smell so terrible.”
Java sat on the edge of Samantha’s bed and stroked her hair. “They never sing about this part, Sammy. But it’s always there. Be thankful it wasn’t your people, your friends who were burning.”
“I can’t do this, Java,” Samantha whispered once her sobbing slowed. “I can’t lead them into this, knowing what’s waiting.”
“You don’t have to, Sammy. You have plenty of people who will do it for you. Let them. Don’t tear yourself apart. Duke Kaster and Duke Arten aren’t generals, and neither was your mother. Let the captains do this.” Java massaged Samantha’s shoulders, trying to rub away the pain in her heart.
“I need a general, Java. Lender’s Dale needs a general to lead her army,” Samantha said as she sat up, rubbing her nose. “I need someone I can trust. Someone who will lead my army to victory, not to the slaughter like that general did.” Samantha was staring at the floor, watching as her tears spattered between her feet.
“Who do you have in mind, Sam? And don’t say me,” Java said affectionately, hugging Samantha’s shoulders.
Samantha laughed a little at that, then shook her head. “No. You wouldn’t do as a general, Java. But what about Captain Freeholm?”
“No. Captain Freeholm has her responsibilities as captain of the Firewalkers. There’s no one available to take her place right now, and you need her there as much as I do. I can think of one person with almost as much experience, who would serve you loyally and well,” Java said, looking sideways at Samantha. “Merrit.”
“Yes!” Samantha looked into Java’s eyes. “Yes, Merrit! Why didn’t I think of that?”
“You did. You started following Merrit’s instructions like she was your general a long time ago. All you have to do is make it official, and convince Captain Freeholm to let her go.” Java’s shrug and smile got Samantha smiling.
Java went with Samantha the next day to speak with Captain Freeholm and Merrit. Marta simply nodded, but Merrit was astounded.
“Sammy, you want me to what?”
“I want you to become my general, Merrit. The General of the Army of Lender’s Dale. I can’t do it. I need someone with the experience, the knowledge, the force of will and personality to lead.” She smiled sheepishly. “I need someone old enough that people will at least listen to what she says.”
“Well, I’m old enough,” Merrit said sourly. “Marta? What do you think?”
“General Marston, I don’t think you have any choice.” Marta said as she grinned. “Duchess Samantha is correct. You’re the best person to take command of the Army. Besides, at least you’ll let the women who want to fight join you. Most men would send them off to cook and clean the tents while the men fought.”
Merrit considered the idea, then grinned. “All right, Sammy. Or, my Lady Duchess.” Merrit bowed from her seat. “What are your commands?”
“General Marston,” Samantha began, grinning broadly, “please begin organizing your force and designating your officers. Princess Java has graciously provided me with a small treasury to begin with, and we must begin purchasing supplies. I leave the major decisions to you, but would appreciate being kept informed.”
Merrit nodded. “Captain Freeholm, I must once again resign from the Firewalkers. I would like to have your permission to recruit my officer corps from your ranks. I’ll limit myself, and I’ll discuss my choices with you before making any decisions.” Merrit looked Marta in the eye and grinned.
“Very well, General,” she said, grinning from ear to ear. “Just leave me a few experienced people.”
“I will. The first people I want, provided they want to go with me, are the lieutenants you promoted to train my army. That leaves your officer corps intact, and gives me people that the troops already know.” Merrit looked at Java and Samantha. “Do you have anyone to add, Duchess?”
Samantha nodded. “The triplets. Marian and Caroline, if they want to come.”
Merrit nodded. “Good choices. We’re going to need uniforms, or at least some clothing. Other supplies as well.”
Java nodded. “I sent an order to Linkville a few weeks ago. Those supplies are for the Army of Lender’s Dale. I also sent an order to the Weavers in Greensboro. With any luck, we’ll have clothing and cloth arriving in the next week or so. The clothing from Linkville won’t arrive until spring, but we should receive some blankets and other ready-made items sooner.” Java had, out of habit, come to attention to report to Merrit.
Merrit shared a grin with Marta before answering. “Thank you, Princess Java. Now, all we need is for Frander to leave us alone long enough to train our people.”
*
Spring arrived slowly, the snow being reluctant to melt in the weak sunshine. The Army of Lender’s Dale had come together through the preceding three months as men and women who had fled from Frander’s advance returned. Merrit was in command of five thousand troops, half-trained though they might be, and had appointed ten captains to handle them. That the ten women who she appointed had all been Firewalkers was understood by the men and women they commanded.
Many of the men who had joined the army had mistakenly assumed that the captains were just temporary commanders until suitable men were available. When it became apparent that the captains were there to stay, a number of men filed a petition of complaint with Duchess Samantha.
“Lady Duchess, please understand. We appreciate the training we’ve received, but it’s just not fitting to have women commanding men in battle. They’re just not suited to it,” an elderly man was saying as he stood facing Duchess Samantha in the Green Dragon.
“And just who would you suggest I replace them with? You? How many years have you spent as a warrior?” Samantha asked, looking at the man closely.
“Well, Lady Duchess, I really haven’t…” the man began, shrugging his shoulders.
“Yet you presume to say these women who, one and all, have been among the finest mercenaries in the duchies for twenty years or more, are not fit to lead because they aren’t men?” Samantha looked at the man and his friends. They were all older men, soft and flabby, and none of them showed any sign of having ever been fighters.
“General Marston is the General of the Army. She makes the decisions as to who leads the troops. Each of the ten captains she has appointed were Firewalkers, women who had dedicated their lives to fighting. Women who, during my time in exile, I willingly and happily called ‘Sir.’ If you cannot, through your male pride or some mistaken belief in man’s inherent superiority, follow these women’s commands, then you may resign.” Samantha’s eyes blazed with anger, and the men stepped back. They had assumed that Samantha, being so young, would be easily manipulated into doing what they wanted. They hadn’t counted on the changes that her years with the Firewalkers had wrought.
Java stood to the side and smiled. She had come with Samantha as a backup, but wasn’t needed. Sam is a match for anyone in the room.
One of the men saw her, and decided to try a different approach. “Lady Duchess, you have been manipulated for so long by these people that you don’t recognize their deceit. That woman beside you,” he pointed to Java, “has been using you for her own ends for years. All of them have.”
“Silence!” Samantha shouted. “One more word out of you, and you will be jailed.” Stepping down, she approached the man with careful, measured steps. “Princess Java rescued me. Princess Java was my mentor and guardian for years.” Her voice had started soft, but grew in volume as she confronted the man. “Princess Java has risked everything on my behalf. Who do you think paid for that uniform you’re wearing? Those boots? The food that fills your fat, sagging belly? Princess Java has given over her entire personal fortune, the produce of two counties, for the Army of Lender’s Dale. If it weren’t for her, none of this would have been possible. Frander would still have control of this area. How dare you accuse her of manipulating me!”
/>
The man retreated in the face of Samantha’s anger. He hadn’t really considered that Duchess Samantha might have a mind of her own. After all, she was just a child. Seeing her like this, eyes ablaze, was a thoroughly confusing turn of events. The men left the Dragon with the feeling that the situation was significantly different than they had assumed.
Other changes were happening as well. Captain Freeholm had promoted her ten most senior noncoms to train the fledgling army. Now those women were captains, each in charge of as many troops as Captain Freeholm, though the men and women they commanded would never be the equals of the Firewalkers. The promotions had left holes in the Firewalker ranks. Holes that needed to be filled, and the captain once again promoted women to fill the need.
Java watched Sergeant Lenver Portsmouth straighten her blouse, a shy smile on her lips. “It suits you, Lenver.”
“It scares me, Java. I’m not ready for this.” Lenver looked Java in the eye. “I’ve always, well almost always known I would follow Anness. But I didn’t think it would happen so soon.”
“You’ll handle whatever comes your way, Lenver. Just remember that you don’t have to do it alone.” Java placed a hand on her friend’s shoulder and squeezed.
Other promotions from the Firewalkers had included Perris Petersburg. Her replacement as Sergeant of Infantry was Sharese Terington. Emily Whitehall had been replaced by Morgan Roseville as Sergeant of Archers. Other women moved about to fill other holes, but the Firewalkers’ Command Structure reformed without any major changes. The one change that left Java feeling both happy and sad had been the transfer of Caitlin Shawnessy as Captain of Cavalry for the Army of Lender’s Dale.
*
Captain Freeholm called an officer’s meeting as the spring advanced toward summer. Java and Samantha were asked to join them as a courtesy, as was General Marston.
“Ladies, it has been pointed out to me that I am getting old,” she said, smiling at her friends. “Not by just anyone, but by the Gods Above. It is therefore my duty and pleasure to announce the name of the person I have selected to replace me. Klamath, step up here please.” She grinned and reached out to a stunned Klamath Rivers.
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