Path of Ruin

by Tim Paulson

  “Yes, you're going,” he said, eyes fixed on her. “You're ready, you're as good with a goliath as anyone we've trained, better than most.”

  “I am the best! You know it,” she said, fanning the fire inside her. “I'll make them sorry they came.”

  “Mmmm,” he said. His eyes said something else though. Concern?

  “They'll be coming here then,” Aaron said. “That's the only reason to bring all of their goliaths. They'll have siege weapons. I'm sure of it!”

  The baron nodded. “That's what I thought as well.”

  “What does King Casimir ask of us?” Aaron asked.

  “We are to send a light detachment to assess their strength and direction-”

  “But we already know that!” Aaron said.

  “-then fall back to garrison the castle here,” the baron finished.

  “That's insane! Castles can't hold against forces with goliaths, especially with siege cannons. You proved that in the last war. It's absolute folly!”

  The baron regarded his adopted son coolly. “I know.”

  Aaron seemed to brighten and leaned in toward both of them as if protecting the most valuable secret imaginable. “If nearly all their goliaths have come here it means they have, at most, a small detachment left defending Magenberg, perhaps only the city guard...” He trailed off but his eyes remained bright, his eyebrows raised to the heavens awaiting acknowledgment.

  “We cannot attack them at their capitol again Aaron,” the baron said, pausing to take a pull on his pipe.

  “Why? It worked last time, they're doing the same thing they did before: sending overwhelming force here. So it stands to reason that-”

  “Only a fool responds predictably. I don't know anything for sure, but I have the feeling that were I to reprise my strategies of the last war I would find they didn't work as well. I might even be walking into a trap.”

  “Absurd! You give the imperials too much credit. You could just as easily imagine they knew you wouldn't want to be predictable so they did the same thing again knowing you wouldn't respond the way you did before. But its far more likely they're just doing the same things the same way they did two decades ago because they're the same people now as they were then, trained by the same men who invaded this place twenty years ago.”

  The baron's eyes drifted to Mia. “Do you agree with your adopted brother?”

  She shook her head waving one hand dismissively. “I'll crush them. I don't care if it's here or there.”

  He looked back to Aaron. “There's another reason we can't send our forces gallivanting into the heart of the empire. These are our lands now, filled with our people. If we send forces ranging the imperials will burn every homestead and town and salt every field they find. Everything we've spent the last twenty years building will be gone. Our people would hate us for not protecting them and they'd be right to.”

  Aaron grimaced. “How long before the royal guards can get here? Tell me they're coming.”

  “A month.”

  “A month? A month!? If the imperials already crossed the border they can be here in two weeks! They'll be at these walls, hammering us to pieces with cannons. We can't just stay here. We won't make it,” Aaron shouted, standing up to pace as he always did when he was upset.

  “Sit down boy! I hate to tell you, but it'll be more like a week and a half if what I've been told is true.”

  “How is that possible?”

  Mia waited. The baron hadn't yet told her to leave. There was a reason. As frustrating as that was, blathering on like Aaron would only make things take longer.

  “The disposition of the imperial forces has changed. I'm told their goliaths are different, faster, more powerful.”

  “Then how can we defeat them?” Aaron crossed his arms.

  “It appears they have a weakness.”

  “Which is?” Mia had finally found something worth asking about.

  The baron leaned forward. “The fire that burns twice as hot...”

  “Lasts half as long!” finished Aaron with gusto. “Of course, they must have enormous fuel needs.”

  “So?” Mia asked.

  “So that's what we attack!” Aaron said.

  “Precisely,” the baron said as the last of a drag on his pipe escaped from the edge of his nostrils. “Every large army that moves any distance must have a train behind it carrying food, armaments and fuel. If these new goliaths burn fuel faster and I'm told they do, the support column will be quite large, likely ponderously slow. As they move faster they will have separated from the support wagons behind them.”

  “So we're attacking that?” Mia asked.

  “Yes,” the baron said. “But we can't go right for it.”

  The baron leaned toward her, his eyes steel sharp.

  “Mia, report to Lord Partham as soon as you leave here. He'll be leading the attack. His orders will be to engage the enemy as far from this castle as possible.”

  “However that is just as a delay tactic. He is to make contact with the enemy, hit them hard enough to make them worry we want a full engagement and then retreat with as few casualties as possible.”

  “I'll be sending light cavalry but they aren't to be used as scouts or rescue. They're to be held in reserve. When the engagement begins I want the cavalry to wheel around the enemy lines and attack the supply train.”

  “Mia, you will be leading a detachment consisting of a third of Partham's force. I want you and your goliaths with the cavalry as cover. Remember, with the cavalry committed against the supply train, any knights in goliaths who lose their rides will have no one to pick them up, they'll be on their own. So it's imperative we lose as few as possible.”

  “I understand,” Mia said.

  “I wouldn't mind if you destroyed a few of those siege weapons as well. They're usually around the rear of the formation,” the baron said as he brushed a few coals of escaped ash from his desk.

  “Why won't you be leading the attack?” Aaron asked.

  “This mission requires speed. You strike and then run. That's why our heaviest slowest units have to stay here. That includes Marian.”

  The baron leaned back in his chair, switching his pipe from the left side of his mouth to his right, then taking it out and holding it in his hand. He stared at the ornately carved bowl as if seeking answers from an oracle.

  “And there's something else,” the baron said.

  “What?” Aaron said, now seated and leaning forward with both hands on the desk.

  “We've heard conflicting reports, rumors. We must remain vigilant. I earned many enemies when the king granted me this land. I'm not comfortable leaving this place.”

  Mia nodded.

  The baron's bright eyes flashed in her direction.

  “And Mia, don't be too aggressive. I'm counting on you to help lord Partham. If something happens that makes attacking the enemy rear echelon impossible, it's of paramount importance that our forces retreat and are preserved. More than half of the goliaths will be going, I want as many as possible to return. Just the fact that the imperials have encountered us will slow them down, they'll be forced to be more careful in their approach. That may well be enough on its own. I know that when you get into combat all you think about is winning, but in this case winning is kicking them in the shins as hard as we can before running away. Can you do that?”

  “I will... try,” she said. He was right, she had learned long ago to never run from a fight. It made you seem weak and invited later attacks.

  “Try hard. That's all I need from you. Now go and good hunting.”

  Mia stood. “And when I return, you'll teach me the rest?”

  The baron regarded her, his eyes bored into her core, it was as if he could see through her heart, into her soul. She'd never liked that about him, it made her feel exposed, vulnerable, not something she enjoyed. Though the baroness was worse, far worse.

  “Come back in one piece first, with as much of my army as you can. Then we'll see.” He b
egan to refill his pipe.

  She made a face. We'll see. His favorite phrase.

  “Fine.” She retrieved her pistol, re-seated it in the leather holster affixed to the small of her back, and stalked to the door.

  “Now my boy. Let's have a chat.”

  Something about the baron's tone gave her pause. As little as she cared for the majority of her so-called family, Mia couldn't help but feel some curiosity about Aaron.

  The young man was entirely consumed by books. The only time he could be glimpsed outside of a library was when some official function mandated his attendance. It seemed he feared the sun itself, that he might shrivel up like a slug if exposed for more than a few moments. For this reason when she exited the baron's study Mia allowed the door to hang open a little, just enough to hear. It was childish to eavesdrop but she didn't really care.

  “About what? This month's financial reports are not yet ready but I can already tell you the numbers will be good. Your investments in the villages, mills and mines have really begun to bear fruit,” Aaron said. He choose his words with care as if he were addressing a committee of scholars, not his father in law.

  “Many of those were your ideas Aaron. I have you to thank for their success.”

  Aaron held up his hand. “Not really. I just read a lot. That reminds me! There is a great deal of exquisite new art in Valendam. I'm reading that portraiture is particularly good. You should think about having your portrait done,” he said.

  The baron twisted his beard.

  “I'll consider it, but that's not what I wish to discuss. Tell me, why have you not yet bedded my daughter?”

  “Ah... uh... I,” Aaron said.

  Mia had to slap a hand over her mouth to keep from crying out with laughter. She could see in her minds eye Aaron's face turning purple with embarrassment.

  “Is she not desirable? Do you not like women?”

  “Uh... I.”

  “We had a man in my unit back in the war who was like that. He was harassed for it but he always held his ground and was an excellent soldier so in the end none of us cared. I do care however because Christine and I brought you here hoping you'd become my daughter's husband-”

  “But I thought it was my intellect, my achievements, finishing four years ahead at the Institute of Veil Science, my papers, my-”

  “Yes, of course! Of course you make an excellent adviser but I don't allow all my advisers to marry my daughter. I need grandchildren boy!”

  “But I-”

  “Listen. Your achievements matter. You're absolutely correct about that but it's not everything. You're a brilliant young man, inexperienced and somewhat flimsy true, but brilliant none the less. However, there are many men of intellect. What shines about you is your character. You care about people as I do, about building a place where all men and women may thrive.”

  “Uh... well yes.”

  “I believe in rewarding greatness Aaron. I won't be like the other nobles, especially the Ganex, who marry their children to each other and watch as they decline into stupidity, illness and vice. So which is it, do you like women or not?”

  “Yes! Yes I like them!” Aaron said.

  Mia again wrestled with a powerful urge to explode with laughter.

  “Then explain yourself and it had better not be anything to do with Giselle. You would not believe the suitors that were lining up for her before I announced your betrothal, even after if I'm honest. That Lars boy of the Van Steens asked me for permission to duel you for her hand six times. Would you like to see the letters?”

  “No!” Aaron said.

  He sounded supremely uncomfortable.

  “I... I don't know how to explain exactly,” Aaron said.

  “You'd better get to it Aaron. I don't have all day. I've a war to plan here.”

  There was a soft thump as Aaron slammed a fist on the solid oak of the desk.

  “Give me a moment please! It's... complicated.” He took a gulp of air deep enough for Mia to hear it in the next room, like the frantic last sucking of air a large fish takes after its been hauled into a boat.

  “She's like my sister!” Aaron said, his voice searching. “I've been here four years. I know I passed all the exams with honors sir... but I was still just a boy. In many ways I still am. To me the soldiers, the goliaths, the horses, bags of grain and pigs, these are all like the pieces in a grand game, a game of control, of prosperity. I know how to play this game, it has rules I understand. People are... not like that. I have a hard time with them, you know this...”

  “I do,” said the older man. Mia heard more puffing on the pipe. Through the crack of the door she could just see how the embers cast an orange glow across his face with each pull.

  “I spent so much time with her when I came here. I learned to love her gentle way, her smile, her laugh. I do so love that laugh, like sweet chimes... but, pushing her for... relations. It just seems wrong somehow. How would I know if she wanted it?”

  “Good God boy, had you no men in your life at all?”

  “No! My father died when I was but a boy. I did not know him. You knew this! I told you years ago. Books became my mentors but it's not as if I know nothing. I learned quite a lot about ladies from the poems of the classic romantics.”

  The baron sighed. “So you know nothing. I should have spoken to you sooner.”

  “I'd have died of embarrassment!” Aaron said. “I may still!”

  “Nonsense. Now let me tell you two things you ought to have been told long ago. First, if you aim to wait for a woman, even your own wife, to make the first move, you'll be dead before you ever find out what's under her skirts. Do you get me?”

  “I believe so.”

  “You need to go to her. You need to make your amorous intentions plain and curtly now, no dissertations on love, just tell her what you want.”

  “Oh.”

  “Secondly, I'm going to be honest here and betray my daughter's confidence because, God help me, I think it's the only way. She came to me and asked me to talk to you about this.”

  “She did? She wants me to ah... ”

  “Yes you imbecile! Of course she does! Did you think I betrothed you two without consulting my own daughter?”

  “Well... no, I just thought she might prefer a man of action and muscle like those guardsmen the ladies enjoy viewing.”

  “Giselle has told me she wants you. I cannot make it any clearer. However, I have it on good authority the young Van Steen is still available. If you aren't up to the task.”

  “I am sir! Eh, father... I am up to it! Truly!” Aaron said.

  “Good! I just hope we don't have similar problems when it comes time for Liam's betrothal to Mia.” The last part was said loudly, too loudly.

  He knew!

  She bolted down the hall as quietly as she could, face reddened. How could she be wed to Liam? The baron's son had only just seen fifteen summers and she was, well she didn't exactly know her own age, but certainly older than that, by a lot. The idea of being married to Liam... it had to be a joke and a cruel one.

  That's what filled her mind as she turned the corner and nearly plowed right into Giselle and her lady in waiting. Mia could never remember the other girl's name, all she knew for sure was that she had the bearing of someone who could handle herself. That was clear every time Mia laid eyes on her and no less so now. Startled the girl had retreated just enough to create the space to wield a knife, only long training gave those kinds of automatic reactions.

  “We were going to the garden. Join us?”

  As usual Giselle looked radiant in a vibrant green gown with lace trim in the shape of flowers. The girl's light brown hair was impeccable, flowing down from her tiara like a torrent of luscious chocolate, a waterfall of curls that was somehow simultaneously untamed and perfectly arranged. It was a look that surely took twenty times more effort and time than Mia would ever bother with.

  “To do what exactly?” Mia asked, folding her arms.

  “Wel
l it's not time yet to read stories to the little ones so I thought perhaps a morning walk while it's still warm enough to do so. Soon the frost will come,” she said, smiling.

  Even the cold of the coming winter couldn't cause Giselle to have a bad thought.

  “I'm sure,” Mia said and moved to step away from the pair but Giselle blocked her path with surprising rapidity.

  “Did you come from father's study?”

  “Yes.”

  “Was Aaron there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well, how did he look?” Giselle asked, blue eyes burning like miniature furnaces.

  Should she tell?

  “Like usual,” Mia said, though she must have done something wrong. Either she spoke too slowly or too quickly or made some hidden expression. Whatever it was, it gave her away.

  “You know something!” Giselle shrieked.

  Mia pursed her lips. “I shouldn't say. I was eavesdropping.”

  She would tell of course, Giselle would be impossible otherwise, but she did need to beat around the bush a little. Mia had no interest in adding “insufferable gossip” to the long list of things people said when they thought she couldn't hear.

  “Oh but you will!” Giselle's lady in waiting said with a crazed look in her eyes. Celia was her name, Mia remembered. Though more of a protector than a servant, there was something about the girl that gave Mia pause. There was a darkness to her. It was the kind of feeling she got from thieves and cutthroats just before they, foolishly, decided to follow her into an alley.

  “You must!” said Giselle, appearing to float from the floor in anticipation.

  “You wouldn't tell that I said anything?” Mia said, enjoying herself a little by drawing things out. It was like the last moment of a duel when your opponent was winded and all but disarmed but instead of ending it you feigned a stumble just to give them a little hope so they wouldn't resign themselves to their fate and give up. People frowned on killing an opponent who'd dropped their sword, it started the wrong kind of rumors about you, the kind that drew the attention of investigators.

  “No!” the two girls chimed in unison.

  “Alright then.” Mia paused, watching Giselle bite her absurdly full lips. “The baron spoke to him about his duty... to you.”