by N. C. Reed
“I'm aware of the changes, sir.”
“I appreciate your time, Captain, and your service,” Parno stood, offering his hand. “Don't fail me, please.”
“Not so long as I draw breath, sir.”
“Good man,” Parno slapped his shoulder. “Carry on.”
The young Captain saluted and left, Parno following him out of the tent to find Karls waiting.
“He looked a lot more happy when he came out,” Karls noted.
“Well, he said you hadn't told him anything about what he was doing,” Parno said. “Apparently, being trusted by even the lowest member of the Royal Family is a big deal to some people.”
“Some people are just too easy to impress,” Karls said dryly.
“Speaking of which, you can use your imaginary authority to go and tell Simmons he won't need to divide Stephanie's escort after all. And we probably need to find another squadron or so for it, too.”
“I'll just imaginary that up for you while I've got all this other imaginary work to do,” Karls promised.
-
“Last wagons, sir,” Rucker sounded tired. Case knew the young Lieutenant had been helping his men with their labor. He shouldn't have, but then a good officer led by example.
“So, I see,” Case nodded. “You've done well Lieutenant and so have your men. I want you to start leaving squads of your most overworked troopers on the other side with this trip,” he continued. “The last men across will be the men in Garrett's company and they can pull themselves over. Your men, when fully across, will mount up and proceed to the nearest available campsite that will serve our needs, preferably with a good clean creek nearby. We will camp for two nights before continuing, allowing your men time to rest and bathe. Lady Winifred's orders,” he added softly. Rucker's eyes showed his surprise but he said nothing.
“Carry on,” Case ordered.
“Sir,” Rucker was so shocked he almost forgot to salute before returning to work.
CHAPTER TWENTY
-
Therron was 'summoned' just at sundown by an orderly informing him that 'the colonel has returned and will see you now'. Incensed, Therron gathered himself and followed the aide to the Colonel's bungalow, an actual bungalow of all things, to 'be seen.'
“Prince Therron McLeod, Colonel,” the aide announced after knocking. He opened the door and ushered Therron inside.
“Ah, Prince McLeod,” said the middle-aged man just starting to gray that met him. “I am Colonel Nathan Cavendish of the-”
“Yes, yes, delighted I'm sure,” Therron waved him away. “I need to be taken to see your Governor at once. At once do you hear? I have been shuffled around for over a week only to get here and find you 'out', forcing me to wait another two insufferable days for you to return while my Kingdom is in the throes of revolution!”
The colonel had grown more and more red-faced at Therron's dressing down until he matched one of the lobsters that Therron had always heard of from the northern coastal areas. Good, he had the man's attention.
“Now, I demand and require a suitable and immediate escort direct to the Governor's Palace! Do I make myself clear?”
“Quite clear, Prince,” Colonel Cavendish nodded, his voice strangely soft. “Is that all?”
“Yes, that's all!” Therron snapped.
“Then be prepared to leave in the morning,” Cavendish said. “I shall have a suitable escort ready to carry you directly to the Governor's Palace without delay. It will be a ten-day journey to the Palace from here by the most direct route. I must warn you that it is a rugged trip to take that-”
“It can't be any more rugged than getting here was!” Therron interrupted yet again. “Just have them ready to go at sunrise! And inform my marines of that as well!”
“As you wish,” Therron missed the odd light in Cavendish's eyes as he was so busy berating the man. Without even the barest hint of courtesy Therron turned and stormed out, returning to his small bungalow. He sat down at the desk and continued to write his formal request for assistance. The wording had to be just right.
-
It was the last group. Garrett and his last twenty-five men and horses, working their way across the river. Rucker's men were already gone ahead as Case had ordered, leaving Fain's Company still with the wagons. Case had almost sent them all on ahead but had decided against it. Rucker's men deserved the rest, but he wanted to maintain as much security as possible for the wagons and for Lady Winifred.
“Lieutenant Fain, let’s make sure all the wagons are ready to roll as soon as this last-”
It was an odd noise that cut him off and Case had no idea what it had been. Fortunately, one of Fain's troopers did.
“Line break!” the trooper shouted. “Grab the line! It broke free on the other shore! Ferry's free!”
The ferry was indeed free, already moving north with the river and gaining speed every second. Garrett's men were not nearly so exhausted as the others were but the rope was coated with grease and that made it hard to hold.
Garrett knew at once what had happened, having been looking back at the eastern shore when the rope separated from the post it had been anchored to. As rope began whistling through the iron rings he grabbed the rope trailing behind and began to pull it on to the raft.
“Hand over hand!” he called to his men. “Get the end into the boat and then we can jam it up. They can pull us in if we can keep hold of the line!”
The men not engaged in trying to hold and calm the now skittish horses began to do just that, helping their commander haul the greasy and wet rope in as quickly as they could.
One especially alert trooper at the 'front' of the ferry, the western side, grabbed the steel bar used to pull the ramp up and jammed it into the last ring on his end of the ferry, using it as a pry bar to pin the rope to the rail beneath the rings. While it didn't stop the rope from moving it did slow it down. Seeing that, Garrett ordered two men to go help the trooper, seeing that it would give them more time.
And right now, they really needed more time.
-
On the shore, men had grabbed the rope but Case stopped them from hauling on it as yet.
“Wait!” he called, hand out in a holding motion. “If we pull before they secure the line then it will just make it harder. Use this time to get everyone lined up. The more hands we can get on that rope the better. If we have to we’ll cut it and tie it off to the horses to help.”
Every available man scurried to be ready to haul the ferry in, assuming Garrett could manage to stop the rope.
-
Back on the raft, Garrett could see the end of the rope coming toward them, still too quick but slow enough perhaps to make his idea work.
“We need to make a big knot in this thing,” he told his men. “Big enough that it won't pass the rings, and maybe even big enough to ram that bar into against the rings. If we can do that then the men on shore can pull us in.”
His men grabbed the heavy line and began trying to bend it into a knot but between the thickness of the line and the grease it just wasn't working.
“What if we cut into the line?” an industrious sergeant asked. “Make a slit in it and use that bar in there?”
“Try it!” Garrett yelled at once. The sergeant produced a massive knife and had two troopers stand on the rope to steady it. Using the knife like he would sword the sergeant rammed the blade into the line. It made a deep cut but didn't go through. Swearing the sergeant tried again but missed as the boat jerked just before impact.
“Dammit!” he yelled and jammed the knife into the slit he had already made and began to hammer at it with his bare hands. A nearby trooper grabbed a saddle ax and knelt before the sergeant. Turning the blade flat he used it like a hammer against the grip of the knife while the sergeant held it steady.
Behind them rope was running out. Garrett and the others had done all they could and now hurried carefully to the front to assist with trying to slow the rope down.
“Go
t it!” the sergeant called suddenly as the knife went through. A few more seconds and he had managed to open the gash substantially without weakening the rope too much. The trooper with the ax didn't hesitate a second waiting for the steel rod, using the handle of the ax instead and shoving it through the gash, using the head of the ax as a stop for it.
With seconds to spare they had managed to make a stop-gap brake for the slipping line.
“Gettin' awful far away there, boys,” Garrett tried to sound calm.
“We got it sir!” the trooper yelled as he and the sergeant worked the rope around just in time. The ferry jarred suddenly as the ax head slammed into an iron ring. For a terrible second the wood of the handle creaked and the sergeant hurriedly worked his now-ruined knife into the gash, using the still strong steel of the blade to strengthen the temporary break. The two men looked at it for several seconds before the sergeant dared to look away.
“I think it's working, sir.”
Garrett sighed in relief as he turned toward shore and swept his hat off, swinging it around his head in a circling motion.
-
“There's the signal, boys!” Case called excitedly. “Pull! Everyone who can, get in there and pull! The rest of you let's get horses ready in case we need them!”
By the time the ferry reached the dock and the ramp came down, everyone on both sides of the affair had calmed down and all tried to act as if it were just another ordinary day in the Army. Men laughed, joked about Garrett and his men joining the Navy, ignoring the fact that twenty-five men and horses had almost been lost.
Case was the last man up the trail. As he topped the rise he looked back at the ferry, still docked and docked it would remain until the rope could be restrung, something he lacked the ability to get done.
They would have to find another way home.
-
It was a tired and disheveled group that staggered into camp that evening. Rucker's men had established the camp but done little else and no one blamed them. As soon as one of Fain's squads had shown up Rucker's entire company was off to the nearby creek to bathe. Tired though they were, it was a happy bunch who made use of that creek, returning to camp just as supper was starting. Excused duty for the evening, Rucker's men relaxed and even dozed waiting on their evening meal.
Winnie prepared a cook pot over her own fire and added the herbs she had gathered slowly, making a sort of flower 'broth' to help wash away the grease smell. She would allow it to steep overnight and then tomorrow there should be enough to add to the soap the troopers would use to wash out their gloves and uniforms in the creek downstream from the camp. The added flower scents would effectively eliminate any remaining smell of the grease. She didn't ask for any help doing it other than for four troopers to get her the needed water and set the pot on the stones she set about the fire herself.
Once the broth was finished, she pulled all but a few coals from under it, allowing the concoction to cool slowly while she made her rounds and spoke to the civilians of the wagon train. She was careful to be courteous to everyone and especially the troopers of her escort. She didn't attempt to speak with Case as there was nothing she needed, and after supper turned in without asking for anything.
Fain's men, as the most well rested, stood the watch for most of the night, with Garrett's men taking the last and the train settled in for the evening.
-
“Sir, are you ready to-”
“Yes, of course I'm ready!” Therron snapped. A night of sleep had not improved his disposition.
“-depart,” the Coastal Captain finished, eyes flickering to his Colonel. Cavendish merely nodded slowly, his eyes somewhat hooded. The Captain returned the nod and made a hand signal to his men who instantly mounted their horses. Twenty-five troopers and five pack animals prepared to take Therron and his ten marines on their trip.
“Your orders are to escort the Prince McLeod directly to the Governor's Mansion using the Ginia Road, making no deviations in your travel, regardless of whatever other orders you are given save from a higher Coastal Province authority than mine.” He handed the Captain a pair of rolled scrolls sealed with wax and a family crest that Therron couldn't make out, nor did he care to.
“Yes sir,” the Captain saluted, placing the scrolls in his shoulder bag. “Permission to depart.”
“Be on your way and Godspeed, Captain,” Cavendish returned the salute. “Safe travels for you and your men.” The young Captain mounted his horse and turned to his column.
“Move out!” he waved them on their way.
“I'll be sure and mention your cooperation favorably to the Governor,” Therron promised as he passed by Cavendish, offering what he considered a boon to a lesser life form.
“You do that,” Cavendish's slight smile should have alerted Therron but again he had already looked away, uninterested in Cavendish's response.
In ten days he would finally be at the end of his journey. The end of his journey and the start of his quest.
The quest to be King.
-
It was not always good to be King.
That was a truth that Memmnon's father, Tammon, had kept to himself until the trouble with Therron had arisen, and Memmnon was almost certain that had said trouble not erupted then Tammon would have went to his grave laughing that he had not warned his oldest son of the difficulties associated with ruling Soulan.
Like this, for instance.
“Milord, placing women in the militia, even the unorganized militia, is a far cry from simply using women in a limited role for defense of the realm!” Sebastian Grey was on his feet. “I cannot sit idly by while-”
“Sebastian,” Memmnon's voice was soft. “I grow weary of this. Very, very weary,” he emphasized. It was not lost on the Palace staff, save perhaps for Grey, that Memmnon's attitude had grown steadily worse since Winifred's departure. Grey seemed to have missed that memo.
“Milord,” Grey proved that with his next sentence, “we have never in all the years of this Kingdom placed women in comba-”
“ENOUGH!” Memmnon's shout, coming as it did from someone who rarely raised his voice in any setting, was enough to stun even Grey to silence.
“Read your history, Sebastian,” Memmnon's voice was almost a growl. “The very foundation of this Kingdom was forged in part by women who were capable warriors! Does the name Donovan not ring a bell from your history lessons, or are you so far removed from them to have forgotten that she was one of the very people who first served Tyree in your own capacity!”
“There were women in combat roles from the very beginning of this Kingdom,” Memmnon reminded him. “It was only the institution of silly traditions and customs that eventually removed women from such roles, and then later on from most positions of authority. Women were restricted in their roles not by lack of ability but by men such as yourself who refuse to see their true and complete value to this Kingdom!”
“I warned you once and I will not do so again,” he brought the argument to a close as brutally as he had opened. “Raise this objection again at your own peril. Are we clear, Sebastian?”
“Very clear, Your Majesty,” Grey fought not to swallow loudly into the silence around him. “Please accept my apology,” he bowed.
“Sit down,” Memmnon waved his apology away. “Now, on to other business. How are the repairs to the city progressing? And how are we doing on the refugee problem?”
Just another day in the life of the King.
-
The troopers were very appreciative of a day off, and Rucker's men were even more appreciative, as were Garret's for the flower 'broth' that Winnie had made to go with the soap they used to wash their uniforms. All went out of their way to give her thanks for thinking of them.
“Nice work,” she heard Case say and turned to see him watching from the shade of a tree. “I appreciate it.”
“Didn't think you needed it,” she said lightly, smiling ever so slightly. It was the first more than civil thing h
e had said to her in several days.
“My men did,” he said simply. “You did something good for my men and I'm appreciative of that. Thank you.”
“You're more than welcome,” she nodded back. “That little bit of rain last night maybe settled the dust for a day or so?” she changed the subject.
“Hopefully,” he agreed. “We’ll have to see once we're back on the trail. If it rained harder further west it may complicate our travel, but it will be nice to have a day or three without eating dust.”
“How long you think before we hit Jason?”
“We’ll hit a major trade route tomorrow afternoon, barring any severe problems,” Case replied, taking a small map from his tunic pocket and opening it to show her.
“We're here,” he placed a finger near the river. “We’ll follow this route through two other towns to reach Jason. Four, maybe five days at most. We should make Cams Den before lunch tomorrow. I suppose we could overnight there, but with the light growing longer it would mean a big loss of travel time. The most ideal situation would be to stop there for perhaps...” he trailed off, an idea forming.
“What is it?” Winnie asked when he didn't say anything.
“We're not far from the front,” he told her quietly, still thinking. “There may or may not be anyone left in Cams Den. We came this far north to avoid crossing more than one major river. We’ll have to swing far south to return home after losing the ferry behind us. That won't be a problem since our ultimate stop is in Shelby, or rather just outside there to be more specific.”
“We could overnight in Cams Den, assuming there's anyone left, and start your objective there. The engineers can get them started on their own earthworks or palisades, whichever they choose, and you can demonstrate how good it would be for the women to know the bow and perhaps to a lesser extent the sword. Any who wanted to go to Jason could follow along with us in better safety than if they traveled on their own. They'd be on their own returning, but it's better than nothing.”
“So, what does that do to our schedule?” Winnie asked.
