by Katy Winter
When Ensore and Ongwin began to laugh, Sarehl gave in and joined them, pushing a curly long strand back from his forehead. He tossed down the wine and handed the goblet to Kaleb.
During this interlude, Eli was thinking hard and now suggested consideringly, looking at one of the plans, "It would be a huge number of men you're proposing to bring together. They'd have to be thoroughly organised in some way, with levels of command and responsibility, right from the very start."
"Exactly," beamed Sarehl, trying to pull a sheet from under one of the goblets. Ensore did it for him and spread it out, watching as Ongwin and Eli leaned forward interestedly. "This," continued Sarehl, "is what I outlined to Ensore. Briefly it's this. Detail can follow later. There are two variables, but Ensore preferred one option over another. Eli, your and Ongwin's opinions are crucial because you're both directly from the front as it were."
Again Ongwin listened while Sarehl went on to speak of chains of command and, in most cases, but not all, separating the foot from the horse. Sarehl felt that on occasion combined horse and foot could be militarily effective and Ongwin was inclined to agree, where Eli didn't. Ongwin liked the suggestion that ethnic groups all be controlled and organised along identical lines, but agreed that they should be encouraged to keep their own leaders to whom they could owe loyalty and allegiance. He strongly believed, as Ensore and Sarehl did, that an overall commander was essential.
Sarehl then talked of commands. First, he said, you needed a man to command six or up to ten companies of foot. Four or five squads of horse should be under the command of another man of commensurate authority, with this split in command between horse and foot carried on down the line. Below these two men, in rank, would be a leader of a company comprising one hundred and fifty to three hundred men, or a squadron of around one hundred and fifty horse.
Eli and Ongwin calculated they would have about ten to fourteen cavalry companies to start with made up of Dakhilan, needing someone in command of each. There would be considerably more companies of foot. They both went very quiet as Sarehl continued, each man's eyes deeply thoughtful. Below in authority again, would be a man who'd be responsible for each sub-division of a company, either a platoon of foot or a troop of horse. Sarehl explained that these men would be directly responsible to their immediate seniors in rank. The last group in authority would have a sub-ordinate role in the company and be responsible to the man in charge of each sub-division.
Eli rubbed his beard and looked across at Ensore.
"It would work," he said quietly, "if it could be done. We'd have a lot of convincing to do, especially on the acceptance of one man as a leader. Ongwin?" Ongwin shrugged, unprepared to comment at this stage.
"And what about discipline?" enquired Kaleb. "You put that disparate lot together and you may have a potential problem or two." Sarehl shook his head.
"Not as much," he argued, "if you keep your ethnic groups individual. The same structure, but with their own leader." Ongwin nodded and this time he did speak. Respect and admiration for Sarehl showed in his eyes as they rested on the younger man.
"It would work. Just think about it. Dakhilan would fight under me or you, Eli, and certainly for you, Ensore, but Sarehl's correct. They'd be reluctant to take orders from, say, an Ortokian commander." Ongwin saw a delighted smile cross Sarehl's face and looked enquiringly at him.
"We had no military in our city-state," explained Sarehl. "I can't conceive of an Ortokian commander." Ongwin hesitated.
"But you know what I mean, young man." Sarehl nodded. He leaned across the table.
"We were absolutely hopeless against the Churchik. I have to admit that men of learning don't fight very well."
"I think," said Ongwin, looking hard at Sarehl, "had circumstances been different, you'd have made a very fine young commander whom men would willingly follow." He saw a look of genuine surprise and gratification on Sarehl's face and said no more.
"No one's explained discipline," complained Eli, with a droll glance at Sarehl. "Shouldn't we think of that too?"
"I asked about it," put in Kaleb mildly.
"You'd have a separate office for that," offered Ensore. "It would be for one who'd be responsible to those directly under the overall commander."
"You could do that, yes," agreed Eli, and added, "You'd have to have names for all those levels of command, to avoid confusion."
"Ensore tells me the Sushi have a chain of command we could use," Sarehl offered, turning his head to the forester with a smile. "I read of it as a child in Ortokian histories of northern Ambros. We could do worse than follow it."
"What is it?" asked Ongwin curiously.
"They have a marshal, who oversees all field matters and who's in overall command." Sarehl paused briefly, then went on. "Linked in authority with him, I'd place a strategist whose role would be exactly that and advice. The marshal, in Sushi terms, is followed in direct order of rank, by ronens, captains and quasors, with the man responsible for discipline requiring a title. That I haven't yet considered."
"But I have," chuckled Eli, glancing mischievously at Ongwin. "Ens, do you remember when we were small and our father thought we needed discipline but was too busy to administer it himself?" Ensore caught Ongwin's eye and began to laugh at the older man's look of discomfiture.
"Ah, Ongwin, times have caught up with you," he chuckled. Ongwin glanced helplessly at Sarehl.
"I had to do something with them," he excused himself.
"Ongwin would read from the volumes of the legal system of Dakhilah," said Eli. "Then he'd make us recite everything, until we were word perfect. Only then would he let us go."
"Was it effective?" asked Sarehl, highly entertained.
"Yes," acknowledged Ensore. "Very."
Eli muttered gloomily, "By the time I was twelve cycles, I could recite our laws backwards. I still can."
"So how does this give us a title for our army?" asked Kaleb amused.
"The codified laws of Dakhilah are called the Domona," said Ongwin, grinning at the look on Eli's face.
"You think the title should be domona?"
"No," said Ensore. "It sounds too like a northern girl's name."
"Domon," suggested Sarehl quietly. "It's short, easy to remember and has a ring to it."
There was instant approval and a short break while Kaleb refilled empty goblets. It was Ongwin who brought them back to the discussion they'd begun.
"Do the Sushi follow all you've so far outlined, Sarehl?"
"Not entirely. They have their ethnic groups mixed, but I think we should keep them individual for the reasons we discussed earlier."
There was another long silence, while the five men drank and three of them grappled with the suggestions they'd heard so far. The other foresters, who had sat quietly, without comment, now took part in an animated discussion with Eli. Glancing at Sarehl again, Ongwin thought the young man suddenly looked very tired. Obviously Ensore thought the same thing, because he began to scoop up sheets and had already carefully rolled up the maps they'd been perusing. Sarehl went to protest, but then thought better of it. Ensore looked down at him.
"No more, my friend," he said gently. "You've given us a lot to think about for the moment."
Downing the last of his wine, Ongwin stared more closely at Sarehl; he could've sworn the young man had paled in the last few minutes. He saw the imperceptible jerk of Ensore's head and rose to excuse himself, making up a reason for taking Eli with him. The foresters promptly followed. Within minutes, Ensore joined them and they walked in silence towards the centre of the small camp where men worked on horses and Daxel sharpened knives. Eli left them to make his way purposefully over to Daxel.
Ongwin looked sideways at Ensore, saying evenly, "Are you going to tell me about Sarehl, my lord, or do I guess?" Ensore smiled at him, a keen expression behind the smile.
"What would you like to know, Ongwin?"
"Just how badly was that lad hurt?" Ensore frowned heavily.
"V
ery," he responded curtly. "I see I'll have to tell you all I know of him, or I'll have no peace."
"He interests me very much," admitted Ongwin grimly. "Kalor and Sache said he would."
"I thought he probably would too. Shall we sit and talk?"
With Ensore so amenable, Ongwin led the way to the sluggish fire that he kicked with a booted foot. Ongwin watched Ensore unobtrusively as the forester outlined how he'd found Sarehl, what he knew of the young man's background and his explanation for why he'd remained with Sarehl for so long. When Ensore fell silent, Ongwin drew in a deep breath, staring off into the distance for a long while to gather his thoughts. Ensore lounged back onto his elbows, one leg stretched out and the other raised at the knee. He seemed disinclined for further conversation. Finally, it was Ongwin who broke the silence.
"How old would he be?" he asked softly. "He can't be much beyond boyhood."
"I judge no more than twenty-one cycles, at the most. Dase tells me Sarehl wasn't yet twenty cycles when Ortok was attacked."
"Younger than Eli."
"Aye."
"Will he heal beyond how we see him today?" Ensore pursed his lips thoughtfully before answering.
"Kaleb believes he'll gradually increase in strength as he's done already, though he tells me there'll always be weakness in Sarehl's left hip and in both legs. He'll also always have a limp. Apart from that, Kaleb seems sure he'll once again lead a normal life. Even," added Ensore with a faint smile, "the scar is much less noticeable."
"I'm surprised he's alive," commented Ongwin.
"A lesser man wouldn't be," returned Ensore. Ongwin nodded in agreement, turning his gaze to where Eli helped Daxel finish sharpening the knives.
"And that boy, what of him?" Ensore frowned.
"He had a bad time of it too. He and his little brother were apparently brought in unconscious. Both of them were in shock, I gather, and Dase has severe scarring from burns on his feet." Ongwin's expression softened as his eyes rested on the thin figure that worked so industriously sharpening knives.
"Where's the little brother then?"
"No one knows," replied Ensore, in a pensive voice. "He was most likely sent north to one of the orphan camps. There was so much confusion at the time, no can be sure of anything."
"I hope they find him."
"In time, doubtless they will. We've no knowledge of that lad's," Ensore nodded over towards Daxel, "twin brother either." Ongwin looked startled, and raised a mobile eyebrow at Ensore.
"His twin?" he repeated.
"Apparently he has one," murmured Ensore quietly. "There's no comfort there for the boy either. He says he knows Luton isn't dead but knows he's hurt, even though they can't reach each other." Ensore got to his feet. "I've never fully comprehended what being a twin must be like, but I understand the suffering of one is shared by the other, especially by identical twins such as Lute and Dase. Dase seeks his brother every day. It must make life doubly difficult, don't you think?"
Ongwin had automatically risen when Ensore did and now stood ruminatively, asking carefully, "What do you and Sarehl plan for the boy?"
"I'm still thinking on that one," came the non-committal reply.
Ensore began walking towards Daxel, so Ongwin fell into step beside him. Just before they reached the boy, Ensore turned his head to Ongwin.
"You'll seriously consider what you heard this morning, won't you?" he asked.
"Certainly, my lord," was the prompt response. "I was very impressed." The smile was back in Ensore's eyes.
"I thought you would be," he said calmly. Then his gray eyes shifted to rest on Eli who flexed one of the swords Daxel now picked up. "And what about him, Ongwin? Was he impressed?"
"Aye, my lord. Against his will, mind you, but aye, he's thinking hard." Ensore gave a low laugh and strode forward to Daxel.
"Well, you lazy pup," he greeted him indolently. "Have you finished?"
Ongwin watched the young face upturned in greeting and admiration. It made him pensive. Once Daxel wandered off with Eli and Kalor, Ensore knew Ongwin was next to him again and looked thoughtfully at the older man.
Ongwin said composedly, "What, my lord, do you plan for the boy? You mean a great deal to him. Are you bringing him north with you?" Ensore continued to look where Daxel had gone and sighed.
"Kaleb and Sarehl think that'd be best," he admitted, in a tired voice.
"And you, my lord, what do you think?"
"I'm simply not sure, Ongwin. He's so young - only a boy."
"He's surprisingly mature for his cycles," observed Ongwin, thinking how very surprised he was when told the boy was barely fourteen cycles. "Who," he continued quietly, "would be responsible for him if he went north?" Ensore's eyes went wide with surprise.
"Why me, my dear man, who else?"
"Will you have time for him, my lord?"
"You're not raising obstacles, are you?" enquired Ensore sheepishly. Ongwin smiled broadly.
"Not at all, my lord. As you say, he's very young and couldn't just be left to amuse himself. Trouble comes quickly to boys of his age."
"Gods," agreed Ensore, momentarily baffled. He glanced speculatively at Ongwin, a look the older man didn't miss.
"Yes, my lord, as you're about to say, I've dealt with boys his age before. That's what you were going to suggest, isn't it?" Ensore burst out laughing.
"Damn you, Ongwin. Am I so easy to read?"
"I've known you from the day you were born, my lord," answered Ongwin, a lurking smile in his eyes. "And you've much of your late father in you as well." Ensore nodded and went contemplative for a long minute.
"You've not heard Sarehl on communications," he murmured provocatively. "We could use boys as young as Daxel to act as messengers, well back from any line of action, of course. He says if we had a network of trained, reliable boys riding as couriers from one point to another, it would relieve men for fighting. I wonder if that's what Sarehl had in mind for Daxel all along?" As he listened to Ensore, Ongwin was quite sure it was exactly what that young man had in mind.
He said tentatively, "How would Eli react to that, my lord?"
"I've no idea," replied Ensore blandly. "No doubt he'll tell us in his own good time."
~~~
Eli was impressed both with Sarehl and Daxel. He confided to his brother that he thought Daxel would shape into a very competent officer if given the chance, and admitted Sarehl was well worth listening to. Ensore said nothing in response, and, as the meal progressed, was content to sit back and listen as Eli and Ongwin outlined Sarehl's proposals to the men. The other foresters, already cognisant of and supportive of proposals, lounged back without offering any further comment.
There was much lively debate and argument, but the consensus was very positive, the counter arguments canvassing a wide range of ideas. Sifting through them all, Ensore could perceive one significant area of concern, implementation. His guard consistently questioned the morality of imposing any new order on people who had their own ways of doing things.
It was Eli who surprisingly put that argument into perspective, by saying bluntly,
"None of us are in a position to argue morality." There was an astonished silence, into which Eli continued. "We're in a situation that demands we take whatever action's necessary to ensure our survival. I'll only accept the argument of morality when I'm comfortably ensconced in my own country, with no overlord demanding tribute from our people. Morality's a luxury I can't afford at the moment." He paused, then added with his roguish twinkle, "Sarehl's quite right."
"Well, well, well," breathed Ensore to a bemused Ongwin. "Now who'd have thought it?"
The discussion then followed the line of how best to reorganise the Dakhilan men, before there could be any suggestion to other groups who already worked randomly in the forest. When the talk briefly stilled the guard, Eli and Ongwin, all turned to look at Ensore. He acknowledged it with a rueful lift of his eyebrows, aware too of Daxel's upturned face. He made no effort to s
peak.
Ongwin broke the silence, by saying steadily, "My lord, you'd have to be Marshal." There was a chorus of assent but Ensore frowned heavily. When he spoke, he did so deliberately.
"We should, I suggest, take one step at a time."
"I agree, my lord," concurred Ongwin quickly, with a shake of his head at Eli, and his eyes coming back to rest on Ensore.
"We should begin by organising our own men as Sarehl suggests. Once the others see us successfully working as military units, they may well follow."
"Possibly, my lord," said Ongwin, also frowning deeply. "But if they don't?"
"We're the biggest force en masse at the moment, aren't we, brother?" asked Eli, collecting the gravy in his bowl with a large hunk of bread.
"Aye," answered Ensore noncommittally.
"Then it goes, doesn't it," continued Eli, holding the bread to his mouth, "that if necessary, we could enforce a new order?" Ongwin's frown became ferocious. Ensore held up his hand.
"Aye, brother, we could but it'd be very unwise. I think, don't you, Ongwin, that we should invite the leaders of all the groups to a discussion such as we've had and ask for opinions and advice where their own people are concerned?"
"Yes, my lord," agreed Ongwin with relief, his frown lightening.
"And tell them," went on Ensore, "what we propose to do ourselves and initially invite them to join us?"
"I suppose," muttered Eli with his mouth full, "that we can but try." Ensore looked over at him affectionately.
"Indeed that's all we can do, little brother."
He exchanged glances with Ongwin, who lowered his head to hide a smile.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Over the next few weeks it was clear Eli's initial scepticism gave way to an avid interest in anything Sarehl propounded. Often Ensore found him walking slowly in company with Sarehl, asking questions, shaking his head, or more often than not laughing in concert with the tall young Ortokian. Ensore reminded Eli that Sarehl shouldn't be overtaxed and made his brother promise not to haunt Kaleb's tent when Sarehl was supposed to rest.
As the days passed, Sarehl's continuing suggestions were the main talking point among all the men. They gained increased acceptance. Ongwin was clearly delighted and became anxious to return further northwest to effect changes. Ensore saw Sarehl become stronger with each succeeding day.