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Parno's Gambit: The Black Sheep of Soulan: Book 3

Page 5

by N. C. Reed


  “I need time, but I cannot trade space for time because I cannot spare any more farm land in enemy hands. I need men, but I can't grow them like grain. I need horses but trained war horses take time. Years. I need supplies, which at the moment are plentiful but not unlimited.” He paused and looked at Feng.

  “My enemy occupies a position that he knows I must attack sooner rather than later,” he sighed. “If he has patience, he need only wait for me to come to him. In the end I will have no choice.”

  “Very good,” Feng complimented. “What are you doing about this?” he asked.

  “I'm moving 2nd Corps to Shelby and taking Raines' Mounted Infantry as well as the Mounted Infantry I sent him just a few weeks ago back. 2nd Corps will be able to rest and refit while serving as a reserve for 3rd Corps and I will have additional usable manpower where I need it.”

  “Once all my forces are up and concentrated, I plan to take the combined cavalry strength of the army and sweep around the enemy right, coordinating that strike with a determined infantry attack against his right flank. I will have to maintain my line and the anchor on the river while threatening their right at the same time. If successful we maybe can roll them up from the flank as we did the first time, but with greater success and better results.”

  “A risk, but an acceptable one,” Feng noted. “What are your other options?” he demanded.

  “I see none,” Parno admitted, hands raised in a helpless gesture.

  “Then you are not looking,” Feng replied, arms crossing over his chest. “There are always options, Parno. They may not be tenable, but they are there. What else can you do here?” he demanded.

  Parno looked at his teacher. Feng was trying to Make A Point, he knew. This was what he always did when trying to Make A Point.

  “Cho, I cannot see another alternative,” he said finally. “I must have that land to feed my people, let alone my army. I can't let them stay there.”

  “How many of your men die because of this attack?” Feng asked, pressing his charge. “How many horses? How much treasure expended to return how much land to your use? Land that you might ultimately lose again if the enemy mounts a strong counter-offensive?”

  “I. . .” Parno began a reply but halted it as he considered. He would lose men there was no doubt. Horses too and expend a great deal of resources. But try as he might he couldn't see an alternative.

  “What am I not seeing?” he asked, sitting down and looking for all the world like a kid in school.

  “What is the objective of this offensive?” Feng asked.

  “Retaking crop land,” Parno replied.

  “So actually the objective is to secure more land to plant crops, no?” Feng prompted.

  “Yes,” Parno nodded, still not seeing it.

  “So then, is there no other way to secure land for planting than to hurl your army recklessly against a prepared enemy in a place of their choosing?” the oriental sword master's words were almost scornful.

  “I. . .” Parno tried to reply but brought himself up short. Was there another way?

  “Is there no land in this kingdom not currently in use that can be pressed into service to maintain stock or grow food?” Feng's eyebrows rose.

  “Well yes, of course, but you're talking about places strung out all across the kingdom!” Parno protested, finally seeing Feng's point. “Some of them barely accessible, even!”

  “Could they sustain a group of people sent there with the tools to care for themselves for the duration?” Feng asked.

  “I suppose so,” Parno nodded, though reluctant. “But wouldn't it be better to retake all this prime farmland?”

  “Can you be assured of holding it?” Feng asked. “What happens if you expend so much in resources to take this land back, then to plant it, only to lose it before the grain can be harvested? You have fed your enemy's army in your own front yard and lost how much in doing so? How much labor, time and resources expended for no return of any kind save loss?”

  Parno sat back in his seat, his entire plan crumbling before his eyes, cut to ribbons with just a few short swaths from Cho Feng.

  Had he become so accustomed to casualties that he had began to ignore them? Had he been so focused on kicking the Nor out of his Kingdom that he lost sight of the real objective, which was to never have to do anything like this again?

  He had known that any plan he had devised would include losses and so he had ignored that as a consideration? Since he couldn't prevent it, he wouldn't factor it into his thinking?

  “Now,” Feng continued. “If you can feed your army and your people without sacrificing so much to the enemy to do so, on a gamble that may not pay off for you, why not do so and allow them to keep that land for now?”

  “Because it's ours!” was Parno's immediate reply.

  “How long to grow grain?” Feng demanded.

  “Four to six months depending on the grain, the soil, things like that,” Parno shrugged.

  “How long to grow soldier?” was the next question and it caught Parno flat footed. Cho's accent tended to come out much more when he was exercised. Which he was now.

  “I-you can't just grow soldiers!” he complained.

  “Of course you grow soldiers, just as you grow craftsmen and artisans,” Feng snorted. “Soldier growth starts at birth! Foolish boy,” Feng was pacing now. “Soldier must attain adulthood before training can begin. How long?” he demanded.

  “Sixteen to eighteen years,” Parno nodded, the light beginning to dawn.

  “How long to train soldier?” Feng was relentless.

  “The way we're doing it now, nearly another year, total.”

  “So…nineteen, perhaps twenty years to replace soldier who falls in combat,” Feng stopped pacing and faced Parno suddenly, having made his point. “Six months to grow grain. Starve a little now, or allow your enemy to overwhelm you later. Make sacrifices at the table, or on field of battle. From which can you recover more quickly?”

  “From the table,” Parno wasn't even paying attention to what he was saying anymore. Instead his mind was far away, turning over what lands were available to him, to everyone, for producing the food they would lose from this year's harvest.

  “Your position is a strong one,” Feng pushed on. “Your army is resting and they need it. Many new soldiers. Need time to train, to learn from those who know what war is now. Your enemy is afraid of your new weapons and may hesitate to push you further, at least for now. Attack in haste. . .?” he prompted Parno to recall one of his earlier lessons.

  “. . .retreat in defeat,” Parno murmured, standing. “I have to go,” he said suddenly, reaching for his sword. “I have much to do. Please find Karls for me and tell him we will not be leaving as I had planned. Our departure is delayed at least one day and perhaps as long as three. And have a courier ready at dawn to carry a message to Davies for me, and another to carry one to Raines.”

  “Very well,” Feng fought off the urge to smile. “It will be done,” he bowed slightly.

  “Thank you,” Parno said softly before stepping out into the hallway, on his way back to see his brother.

  “You are most welcome, my Prince,” Feng smiled at the closed door. “Most welcome indeed.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  -

  “You want to make all these people move when I've only just gotten them situated?” Winnie's voice was as hard as her gaze. Memmnon has chosen well it seems, he thought with a dry mental chuckle.

  “We don't have a choice, Winnie,” he told her flatly. “We can't feed them indefinitely from stores and there isn't enough tillable land here to feed them either. They are going to have to work to feed themselves and anything extra will go to feed the army that's defending them.”

  “They are sick and exhausted!” Winnie objected, forgetting that it had been her own idea just a day ago to do the same thing.

  “They aren't all sick and they've had two days rest already,” Parno was shaking his head. “It will take a
week at least to get things organized to the point that they can head for areas that are open enough to allow them to grow food. Once they've planted, they 'll have the summer to prepare shelter and firewood for the winter. Yes, I'm aware of how hard that will be, but aren't you forgetting that a great many of the refugees themselves are farmers and ranchers? They have the knowledge to take care of themselves and to teach others to do the same. Let them use that knowledge and share it with townfolk driven out of the towns and cities north of the lines.”

  “A lot of them are children,” Winnie's protests were growing fainter.

  “Children who are accustomed to working,” Parno nodded. “And moving them south gets them further away from the war,” he added. “The climate improves during the winter months for every one hundred miles you travel south, too. Here in Nasil the winter can be horrific at times and it's no better in Shelby. Don't even get me started on the Plateau and I shouldn't have to tell you about winter in the Apple Mountains.”

  “No,” Winnie agreed. She knew first hand how hard winter could be in the mountains she had grown up in. “When will we have to do this?” she asked, resigned.

  “As I said, it will take a week or so to gather the needed supplies and sufficient wagons to carry them. Let them rest during that time, but begin organizing them now. Find leaders among them who can get things done and others that know how to grow. Those who can handle stock as well,” he added. “We don't have a great surplus at the moment but we do have enough to allow some swine, sheep and even a few cattle. They will need to allow them to breed and slaughter the new stock for meat, but over the next two years they should grow herds large enough to feed themselves and help feed the army.”

  “Years?” the word was echoed up and down the table, including Stephanie who was there to advise on health issues.

  “Yes, years,” Parno nodded. “We have to be smart about this,” he told them. “We only have so many soldiers. We can only replace so many soldiers each year, and we have to have some able-bodied men to do other work as well, including assist with farm and stock operations and harvest trees. To build ships and forge weapons. No matter how many people you give me, I can find uses for them and still need more. You 'll soon find the same to be true for your own work if you haven't already,” he warned.

  “That is true,” Stephanie nodded, thinking about work in a military hospital in time of war. “No matter how many orderlies you have, it's never enough. There is always work waiting for those just coming on duty.”

  “But years?” Winnie asked again and Parno noted several heads nodding at her comment.

  “If I launch an offensive and fail, then the Nor remain in the Tinsee Valley for the foreseeable future,” he said flatly. “If I succeed, but lose so many men I can't hold our ground, then we still fail in the end and the enemy remains at our door.” He leaned forward.

  “The only way to ensure that we throw the enemy off our doorstep is to build up to the point that once we get them in retreat, we can press them all the way to the Ohi and hopefully destroy them as they try to cross back over.” He stood abruptly, the need to move making him pace a bit behind his chair.

  “I will only have one shot to make all that happen,” he told them. “If I fail, or even if we succeed and the victory is Pyrrhic, then we're finished. The Nor have one huge army in the Valley, another army at least half that size across the bridge in Shelby, and now a new army, at least thirty thousand strong, has joined the army we currently face on the Valley plains.” He stopped pacing and looked at the people before him in turn.

  “If we try and fail, one of those armies will make it into the heartland and we have nothing left to stop them or even slow them down.”

  Heads rocked back as if physically pushed at hearing this.

  “I had planned to risk everything in one big push to force the enemy back, at least as far as the Kenty plains, freeing up as much crop land as possible. But the point was made to me that every soldier I lost, every ounce of treasury that I expended, every seed we managed to plant and horse that was lost would be for naught if the enemy managed to push back and take that land from us a second time.”

  “Worse, we would have fed the enemy for the winter while our own people starved,” he finished. “Which leaves us with the problem we originally faced; we have to feed our people and we have to keep the army supplied. We either do those things or we fall. It really is that simple, people. I should have seen it sooner,” he admitted, sitting heavily once more, somewhat dejected himself after having said all of that aloud.

  “You have already done more than anyone else to ensure that we remain free,” Memmnon spoke for the first time from the head of the table, his voice calm and reassuring. Every inch the King. “Do not take blame upon yourself for something we all should have thought of, Parno.”

  “I agree,” Gideon Philo, Minister of Agriculture nodded firmly. “This is my area of expertise, my Lord, and I too failed to appreciate the importance of what you have shown us. There are vast acres of unused lands that we can tap into for production of grains and maintaining herds. For that matter, there are thousands upon thousands of acres held in Royal Reserves around the Kingdom that can be planted and where trees can be harvested for dwellings, ship building, and to clear more land for planting.”

  “I dislike the idea of so many women being pressed into the labor force,” Sebastian Grey shook his head. “It isn't right. And younger women who are of child bearing age? When they are with child, how are they to harvest crops and work fields?”

  “Women are already working in all of those areas,” Roda Finn scoffed, two seats down from Parno. “There are women working in the Foundry right now in work at least as dangerous as being on the front lines of combat, and equally important to the war effort.”

  “What?” Winnie's head came up at that.

  “Talk to him about that later,” Parno cut off that discussion before it started. “The point is that women are already working in dangerous occupations throughout the Kingdom. And when we mustered the Militia for service in the Army, who remained to tend the flocks and the fields, Chief Constable? Women.” Parno's voice was flat and final. “Lady Stephanie is perhaps the finest surgeon in the Kingdom, and Lady Winifred one of the best archers in the history of our people. She has spent the last year teaching thousands of men the art of the bow at Cove Canton. Men who are even now the scourge of the Wild Tribes in battle, I remind you.”

  “Indeed?” Grey looked at the blushing Winnie with new respect.

  “Indeed,” Parno nodded firmly. “So we will table any more discussion of how suitable women are for working anywhere. There are observation posts along the Great River and our seashores that are manned and in some cases commanded by women. All of them doing an excellent job. Let us move forward.”

  “Very well,” Grey withdrew his objections.

  “I will see to gathering the resources needed for new settlements to be self-reliant,” Philo said, standing. “Tools, seed, implements and stock, at least to the degree we can in one week,” he amended. “We may have to send the stock by way of herdsmen later on as we gather it, but that can be done. We must ensure in each group that there are those strong enough and able enough to handle a team of oxen behind a plow. We have few horses or mules available for such work at this point.”

  “I will find them,” Winnie promised the Minister. “We must also be careful not to separate families,” she added. “These people are traumatized enough as it is.”

  “I see no reason to separate family groups at all,” Memmnon agreed. “In fact, I submit that such groupings will make everyone want to work harder to ensure that their families are cared for.”

  “True enough,” Philo nodded. “Very well, I must get to work at once. With your permission, My Lord?” this to Memmnon.

  “Of course, Minister,” Memmnon nodded and the older man hustled from the room followed by two aides that had been making notes during the meeting.

  “This
will work,” Memmnon said to those who remained. “Remarkable how this changes things, is it not?”

  “It removes part of the strain from the army,” Parno nodded cautiously. “So long as the enemy cooperates, this should help buy us time. We need time.”

  “What will you do with that time?” Memmnon asked.

  “Train our replacements for one thing,” Parno admitted. “Work them into the units that have suffered such heavy casualties so far, especially 2nd Corps. They are at half strength in most cases. It will also allow for those wounded who can return to duty to do so. Getting back experienced soldiers to fill the holes in the ranks is far better than taking a raw farm boy and placing him in the ranks with a bow or a sword.”

  “True,” Memmnon nodded in agreement.

  “We 'll also use raids and feints to keep the enemy off balance,” he mused. “We have to watch the river now, too,” he added, eyes unfocused as he saw the position of the army in his mind's eye. “After we hurt them so badly last time they attacked, they may well try to bring those boats down river to make a landing behind us. Not to mention. . .” he trailed off as a new thought occurred to him.

  “What?” Memmnon leaned forward, wincing as he did so.

  “The Cumberland,” Parno almost breathed. “They can use those boats and float down the Cumberland,” he voiced it aloud. “I have to go,” he stood abruptly again. “I have messages to send. If you need me I 'll be in your old office,” he told Memmnon, who grinned despite the situation. Parno still resisted calling the room his office.

  “I should go and talk to the refugees I guess,” Winnie said, once Parno was gone. “Start trying to organize them into groups.”

  “Let Philo handle that,” Memmnon shook his head. “That will allow you to be the one they come to when they have complaints. You can solve their problems, which will make you ever more favorable to them. That way when you must ask hard tasks of them, they will respond better.”

 

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