by N. C. Reed
“Sire, I was informed that her Ladyship's father has joined you for dinner?” Stang managed to get out without strangling.
“Yes,” Memmnon looked a bit puzzled. “How does that concern you?”
“I would be most interested in knowing how he entered the Palace, sire,” Stang's face reddened further.
“Oh?” Memmnon raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, sire,” Stang actually tried to see past Memmnon into the room.
“Colonel,” Memmnon's voice took on a warning timbre. “I am in the midst of dining with my prospective bride and her father. Your interruption for any reason that does not directly involve our safety or that of the Kingdom is unwelcome. I trust I've made myself clear?”
“Sire,” Stang straightened to attention. “I apologize for the interruption, begging your pardon,” he bowed stiffly.
“Then I'm sure you can converse with Mister Hubel tomorrow. Now unless there is a circumstance of security as I detailed earlier I will bid you a pleasant evening.” With that Memmnon closed the door soundly in the Colonel's face and returned to his dinner.
“I apologize for that,” he smiled. “Shouldn't happen again. While I am thinking of it Mister Hubel, I would welcome the opportunity to visit with you tomorrow, if you have the time?”
~*~
“I want to know how that man got into this palace,” a seething Stang informed his second and third in command and his assembled battalion commanders. “I want to know who let him on the grounds and I want to know right now!”
“We've checked with every post, sir,” his second informed him. “There is no record of his entering the grounds and none of the sentries report seeing him entering the grounds. The only men on duty who report having actually seen Mister Hubel are the sentries at the King's door. We don't know how he got in.”
Resisting the urge to throw something, Stang looked at his assembled officers. Somehow, someway, Hubel had managed to get inside the palace, not just on the grounds. His men had no idea how the man got onto the grounds or even how he got into the building or to the King's own door without being spotted. This was a waking nightmare for a man responsible for the security and safety of the King of Soulan. The only thing that could make it worse at the moment would be-
“So, Colonel,” Parno's voice floated to him from behind. “I understand that Mister Hubel managed to penetrate the grounds and make it to the King's door?”
“I'm in hell,” Stang muttered as he plastered a smile on his face and turned to face the Crown Prince.
“Yes, milord, he did,” he acknowledged. “We're working even now to discover how he managed it.”
“I see,” Parno didn't look overly smug. “I assume that you 'll be taking him seriously after this?”
“Yes milord,” Stang sighed.
“We 'll talk tomorrow then,” Parno nodded, already on his way out. “Good evening, gentlemen.” Stang waited until Parno was gone before wheeling on his officers once more.
“I want to know how that man got in here,” he growled.
~*~
“So, Winnie's father managed to elude security?” Stephanie asked.
“Completely,” Parno nodded. “The only men who saw him were the sentries.”
“You put him up to this, didn't you,” Stephanie accused.
“Possibly,” Parno admitted. “Whip said he had found ways into the palace to try and see Winnie. He hadn't tried to enter yet, but he would have soon if he hadn't come across me.”
“And you think this was a good idea?” she asked.
“We 'll see.”
CHAPTER FOUR
-
“Colonel, I trust that you are ready now to listen to Whip and let him lend you a hand?” Parno's voice made it clear that Stang had better be.
“Milord I've yet to discover how he got on the grounds or into the palace itself,” a red-eyed from lack of sleep Stang nodded. “I would be most appreciative to know how he managed it.”
“I can show you,” Whip nodded easily. “There's a bunch o' ways a man can get in here, was he determined enough, Colonel.”
“I have to assume that our enemies are determined,” Stang said evenly. “Some of them more so than others,” he added darkly, thinking of a certain pair of twins.
“And they have an intimate knowledge of the palace and grounds,” Parno agreed. “Lets not settle just for Whip's counsel in this matter, Colonel. Talk to the staff, especially those who have been here a long time. If there are secret ways in and out of here, some of them will undoubtedly know them. Find them, and seal them. I want nothing happening to my brother.”
“It will be done, milord,” Stang promised, then turned to Whip. “Are you free to show me where and how you managed to get inside?” he asked.
“Sure thing,” the older man said easily. “Have to hurry though. Got to meet with the King this afternoon about something.”
“Meet with the King,” Stang repeated softly. “Of course.”
~*~
“You're enjoying that a little too much,” Cho Feng said once Stang and Whip had departed.
“Am I?” Parno smiled slightly. “Surely not.”
“What profit is there in aggravating Colonel Stang?” Cho asked.
“I need him to be on his toes, that's all,” Parno replied. “He's responsible for Memmnon's safety, and to a lesser extent for Stephanie's. He's got to be on the ball and Whip proved that he's not. It also proved that Stang wasn't even willing to consider that he hadn't thought of every possible way into this place. I can't have anything happening to Memmnon.”
“Because that would make you King,” Cho fought off a smile.
“Exactly. I can't have that. The last thing I need right now, or ever comes to that, is to be King. Or even Regent, now that I think on it.”
“For you to be a Regent, there must be an Heir,” Cho mentioned.
“Memmnon's working on that.”
~*~
“I appreciate your time today, Mister Hubel,” Memmnon said as he limped along through the garden, an attendant far enough back not to overhear but close enough to lend assistance if needed.
“Reckon a man of my station gets asked to speak to the King, he speaks to the King, sire,” Whip said carefully.
“Do not think of me as the King right now,” Memmnon told him seriously. “I realize that might be difficult, but I would appreciate it if you tried. I am talking to you as a man right now and nothing more.”
“Alright,” Whip's eyebrow rose at that but he nodded.
“I know that it came to your attention only recently that I was courting your daughter,” Memmnon stopped to look at Whip, leaning heavily on the staff in his hands. “I am sorry for that, Mister Hubel. I had no idea that her father was anywhere near us at the moment and assumed that Lady Stephanie was acting as her ward.”
“Might as well have been,” Whip nodded. “Girl was supposed to be teaching the bow to a bunch o' new folk at the Canton. I came down here with Finn to work on his gadgets as he calls 'em. Reckon Miss Stephanie took it on herself to invite Winnie along with her when she came down. Didn't know she was here myself until someone got to runnin' off at the mouth about. . .well, that's no never mind,” he waved his hand away. “Anyhow, ain't no need of an apology, Sire. I seen you're treatin' my girl right and proper and that's all that matters to me.”
“Indeed,” Memmnon nodded. He began walking again. “I am pleased to hear that, and I thank you for your forbearance. Now then,” he paused as they came to a bench and looked at Whip.
“Would it trouble you if we sat?” he asked, clearly struggling.
“Course not,” Whip told him. “You hadn't ought to be on your feet much as yet, way I hear it.”
“Yes, so Lady Stephanie takes great pleasure in telling me,” Memmnon chuckled as he sat heavily on the bench. “Thank you. Now then,” he repeated. “I wanted to speak to you concerning your daughter, Mister Hubel.”
“Reckon you should call me Whip, Sire,
” the older man shook his head with a wry smile. “Having the King call me Mister. Ain't that something.”
“Well, for this I feel it needful Mister Hubel,” Memmnon demurred. “Though I look forward to a time when you and I are better acquainted and such formalities are behind us. Speaking of which, the reason I wished to speak to you was concerning my intention to ask for your daughter's hand in marriage.”
“I see,” Whip tried to keep a straight face. “You reckon my little girl, raised in the mountains like she was, 'thout a Ma and all, she'd be a suitable Queen for you?” The question caught Memmnon off guard. Of all the things he'd thought he might hear from Winifred's father, this hadn't been on the list.
“I'm not looking for a Queen, Mister Hubel,” he replied honestly. “True, any woman who weds me will be the Queen, and her children Heirs to the throne. But I am looking for a wife,” he stressed. “I wasn't looking for one, I freely admit, until I met your daughter. I have to tell you that I'm sure I made less than a sterling impression upon her at first meeting. In fact I was likely unconscious at our very first 'meeting' considering I was being kept under sedation. She was escorting Lady Stephanie at the time and came with her to my quarters where I was being kept while they tried to keep me alive.”
“She wasn't raised to look down on folks on account of such,” Whip shook his head. “Doubt she thought anything of it, especially considering the circumstance.”
“Fortunately that seems to be the case,” Memmnon ventured a small smile. “At any rate, when I saw her, I admit that was the moment I began to think about a wife. No, that isn't accurate,” he shook his head and looked off into the distance for a moment.
“At that moment,” he continued finally, “I began to think about her being my wife.”
“And why would that be?” Whip asked, again catching Memmnon by surprise. Anyone else would be fawning over him by now, thrilled with his wanting to marry their daughter. His respect for Winnie's father climbed a notch.
“Her beauty of course,” he acknowledged freely. “But more than that, her strength. There she was, bow in hand, short sword on her hip, protecting Doctor Corsin from any threat, including me apparently,” he laughed at the memory. At Whip's questioning look Memmnon began to relate the tail of those dark days.
The two spent an agreeable time together, talking as just two men. It was the best hours Memmnon had spent outside Winnie's company in a long while.
~*~
“That him?” Sergeant Carl Anders asked. The owner of the sundries store nodded jerkily as Anders pointed to his delivery driver, Havrel Denton.
“That's him, but he-” the man dried up as cold eyed troopers looked back at him. “That's him,” he managed to squeak out again.
“Thanks,” Anders nodded. Motioning for the other three troopers to follow him, Anders waited until Denton was out of sight behind the building before sending two men around one direction and taking the other with him a different way. A minute later they approached Denton from both sides.
“Havrel Denton?” Anders called out. The man looked up sharply.
“Who's asking?” he called, then froze as he recognized the livery of the Sergeant and his companion. Two seconds later he was running, only to plow straight into two more troopers coming from the other direction, one of who felled him with a blow to the forehead.
“Havrel Denton, we need to talk to you a bit about that mouth of yours,” Anders looked down at him. “Take him boys.”
~*~
“No.”
“I'm not asking for that much, am I?”
“Stephanie, we already had this discussion,” Parno sighed. “And if not for my realizing what terrible mistakes I was making, I'd already be gone. I gave you my reasons, and I feel they're good ones. I've heard nothing from you that outweighs those reasons, either.”
“Then you aren't listening,” Stephanie almost pouted. She was seated on a sofa in the receiving room of what was now Parno's office, stocking feet drawn up beneath her in a most unladylike but comfortable pose.
“I am listening or I wouldn't be replying to you, now would I,” Parno stated more than asked. “As bad as I hate to admit it, there are protocols I need to follow here. I'm the stupid Crown Prince now,” he sighed, shaking his head. “I can't just elope for God's sake!”
“I'm not asking you to 'elope' Parno McLeod,” Stephanie huffed. “I'm asking you to marry me now, before you go and get yourself killed. At least give me the chance to give you an heir first!” she almost stormed.
“I'm not going to get killed,” Parno tried to calm her. “I'm not allowed to get close enough to anything dangerous to get killed.”
“You're at war and entirely too disposed to be close to the fighting,” she shot back. “There's every possibility that when you leave here you won't return.”
“I admit that I have done that in the past,” Parno tried being more reasonable. “But as I've said, it's been pointed out to me rather firmly that I am no longer a mere regimental commander. As such I can't run off on foolish flights of fancy and engaging in combat. I have to command. And so, I am. I am delegating my duties to others and commanding.”
“That is still not a good reason not to-” she broke off at a knock on the door.
“Come!” Parno called as Stephanie put her feet back down, straightening her clothing from where she had been reclining on the soda.
A trooper wearing Parno's colors entered and offered a message to the Prince without speaking. Parno read it, nodding as he did so, then looked at the trooper.
“Tell him excellent and I 'll get back to him. Meanwhile, let him stew.”
“Sir,” the man nodded, nodded respectfully again to Stephanie, and then exited, closing the door behind him.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“Oh, just a man I need to have a word with about something.”
~*~
Lieutenant General Gerald Wilson stood studying his wall map, trying to formulate a plan that would get his army out of the rut they were in at the moment. He had to find a way either to attack and carry the Soulan Army's positions, or to go around them.
Engaging their cavalry was a non-starter he admitted. Stone and his men were excellent soldiers and fair horsemen, but the initial meeting of the two forces had proven rather successfully that Stone's men were better utilized protecting his flank and rear areas than in actual combat against the southerners. Added to that little bit of wake up was the fact that Stone had lost several thousand of his troopers in that engagement, leaving his units a hollow shell of their former strength. For now, Stone and his men would protect the trains and guard rear areas. It wasn't the way it was supposed to be but it was all he could do. Committing his cavalry against Soulanie cavalry in open combat was an invitation to wholesale slaughter.
The Tribal warriors were also reluctant to engage the southerners after getting their asses handed to them in the cavalry battle that had seen Stone's men hurt so badly. On the one hand, it was difficult for Wilson not to smirk at their reluctance after all the arrogance that Blue Dog and his fellow 'chiefs' had shown the Imperial troopers. But on the other hand, it deprived Wilson of a good raiding force that he could have encouraged to go behind enemy lines and rampage through the Soulan rear. It disgusted him to think of the havoc the savages would wreak on civilians, but the thought of himself and his family dying disgusted him more.
He was sure that he outnumbered the Soulan Army on this front and equally certain that his counterpart across the Great River, Jackson Andrews, outnumbered the forces he faced as well. The problem was that the Soulanies had developed those weapons from the old times and used them to wreak havoc on his army.
He paused for a moment to curse his own complacency in rejecting the claims of the survivors of Brasher's force as they ran back to 1st Army with tales of dragons and wizards and witchcraft. Had he not blown these off as the wild statements of an army that had been crushed by inept leadership and a determined enemy then
he might have realized then that the southerners had developed something so destructive. He had no excuse other than the fact that Brasher had been an idiot and he had assumed that the idiot had gotten his command tore to pieces with his idiocy.
Then his own command had been torn to shreds by the same 'witchcraft'. He shook his head at his own foolishness. Dwelling on that would not help him. It was gone and done with, time to move on.
Only he couldn't seem to figure a way to do that. His men were still jumpy weeks after the disaster that had befallen them in the previous battle. The losses of 1st Army had been horrendous. Far higher than the rest of the war combined to that point. His staff was still working to reorganize the army, combining regiments that had all but ceased to exist into new regiments, and them into new divisions. They could do that work without his supervision. It fell to him to decide how to put those reorganized regiments to best use.
And best use did not include another head long attack into the face of those devastating artillery weapons that had broken the back of his first attack. But what else was there? What he had told Daly still held true; they were hurting the south simply by sitting on so much valuable crop land. Their people would be hard pressed to feed themselves and their army without the millions of acres his men now occupied or controlled. Had the Emperor been more patient then he could simply stay where he was, fortify his position, and wait for the enemy to come to him. Which they would eventually be forced to do.
The Emperor was not possessed of such patience however, so that plan was also a non-stater. Asking for more time was akin to asking for more resources; a sure way to end up dead. That meant he had to find some way to get his offensive moving again, whatever it took.
It seemed incredible that after such a rousing success at the start of the war, his powerful forces had been brought to a standstill. Who would have thought when those boats had carried the first waves of the initial attack across the Ohi River that he would find himself standing here, stymied as to-
Boats. The boats! He looked at the map before him with renewed interest. Rivers. Always rivers. These rivers were a natural resource of course, but because they flowed south-north no one considered them acceptable invasion routes. But. . .maybe that was a mistake. There was no need to limit the use of the waterways to invasion routes. While using them to actually invade would not work, maybe they could serve to get his troops moving again. If he could use the boats to get troops behind the Soulanie lines then perhaps he could spring a surprise attack.
