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

by N. C. Reed

  “I'll see to it,” Whip told the fussy inventors back as he waddled toward his office. He looked at Carl and Billy.

  “Gather up ever body that's still here,” he ordered. “We got a lot to get done and not a whole bunch o' time. I'm gonna see about getting some help.”

  “Right Mister Hubel,” Carl grinned. “We're on it.”

  ~*~

  “My Lady is it true?” was the first thing Winnie heard as her archery students assembled.

  “I'm afraid so,” Winnie nodded. “We are pulling into the citadel around the palace to make our stand. Help is already on the way so all we have to do is hold until they arrive. We're going to help with that,” she told them proudly.

  “How long until we have help?” one of the older women asked.

  “I estimate four days, but today is one of those days,” Winnie padded the number in case their help didn't arrive on time. “If we are fortunate then the attack won't hit until day after tomorrow. If it does hit tomorrow we will still be okay, we simply won't be able to save so much of our resources as the extra day will give us.”

  “What would you like us to do, ma'am?” a young woman about Winnie's own age asked.

  “We are going to assist Lady Stephanie's people in moving the sick and injured from the hospitals into the soldier barracks inside the palace grounds,” she smiled. “They need assistance badly and we can help.” She began issuing orders, dispatching teams of 'lady archers' to each hospital to help move either medical supplies and equipment or patients, whichever was needed. All of her students were healthy, solid women and more than able to assist with something like carrying patients or bundles of medical supplies, and she knew Stephanie could use the help.

  They all could.

  ~*~

  As it happened, the defenders of the Royal City would have their extra day. Not because Stone made a mistake because this time at least he was making very few missteps. No, the extra time would not really be 'extra', but instead was the result of Pierce's over estimation of how far the northern cavalry had gotten ahead of him. While true they were far enough ahead to prevent Pierce from catching them short of Nasil, they were not nearly so far ahead as he believed. As a result, the defenders of Nasil would spend the next thirty-six hours looking for and expecting an attack that wouldn't happen for another day at best. They would make good use of that time.

  Four groups of people that afternoon, working or riding into evening, fates tied together though they had never met in person. Even as the riders had to finally stop to rest horses and men and take food, and because light had failed them completely, the people hurrying to secure the Royal City continued on well into the night. In fact someone would be working all night long as work crews took turns at the warehouses, moving everything they could into the palace fortress.

  It was very late when Winnie and Stephanie managed to return to report to Memmnon, who had ordered a very simple supper of cold meats, bread and cheese prepared. The two ate hungrily and in appreciation as they informed him of what they had managed to accomplish that afternoon and evening. He was nodding by the time they had finished.

  “It sounds as though you both did very well,” he complimented. “Winifred I must commend you on thinking to take your archery students to assist Stephanie's people in moving the patients. Well done.”

  “Thank you Sire,” Winnie preened and bowed her head in acknowledgment.

  “Doctor have we secured sufficient medical supplies for a siege?” he asked Stephanie.

  “Yes, Sire,” she nodded firmly. “I've taken everything from the hospitals we have abandoned, and pulled the more advanced students from the schools to help aid with patient care. Those less far along in their studies are assisting with food stores or gathering additional medical supplies. Everyone is working admirably together.”

  “I shudder to think what it would be like had Parno and Sebastian not unearthed that Imperial spy network some weeks ago,” Memmnon shook his head. “Things are bad enough as it is. If we had to deal with traitors and saboteurs among us it would be much worse. There is still a threat of such of course, but not nearly so bad as it would have been.”

  “I think barring severe misfortune we will be ready when they arrive,” Stephanie said. “Our weakest and most vulnerable citizens are already inside the walls here. Those still outside are the people capable of working even long into the night.”

  “What are you going to be doing?” Winnie asked.

  “Once we've eaten I plan to return to our new makeshift hospital and inspect it and the patients,” Stephanie told her. “My parents are here and have agreed to help oversee the patient care. I tried to get them to leave but that isn't going to happen.”

  “So stubbornness runs in the family then?” Memmnon asked playfully and even Stephanie had to contain a snort of laughter as Winnie's laugh peeled away.

  “I'm afraid it does, Sire.”

  “Again it sounds as if you two have done well for us,” Memmnon repeated. “Winnie, what are you going to be doing?”

  “I'll be with my students after meal time, getting a last bit of instruction in,” the flame haired archeress said. “They should do okay but I can probably make that better just by spending a bit of time with them tonight building their confidence and talking about what's coming.”

  “I assume they all wanted to serve?”

  “This is what they signed up for,” Winnie nodded. “To be here to help in times just like this. They're ready to go.”

  ~*~

  “Made good time today,” Hildebrand noted from his side of the small fire.

  “So we did,” Chad nodded, poking the fire with a stick. “We'll need to tomorrow as well.”

  “No way we can make Nasil by tomorrow,” Hildebrand said. “Too late a start today.”

  “At least we're off the mountain,” Chad shrugged. “That will help. We should be there by noon, day after. No later than mid afternoon, anyway.”

  “I hate to bring this up,” Hildebrand spoke again after a minute of quiet, “but if we arrive alone, we won't last long against so many.”

  “True,” Chad agreed, not looking away from the fire.

  “So, what do we plan on doing?”

  “I haven't worked that out yet,” Chad admitted. “If Pierce is already there we 'll join on him. If not, we can harass the enemy flank and wait for Wilbanks. We can scout things out for when he gets there, and lend a hand anywhere the fortifications look weak by trying to pull enemy away. Once Wilbanks and the 1st arrive we can join on them. We'd still be outnumbered, but only something like two-on-one. We should be able to win that exchange.”

  “Should be,” Hildebrand nodded. Unless something else happens, he didn't add. There was no real need. It wasn't anything that all of them hadn't thought about today already.

  ~*~

  “What do you mean 'lost them'?” Raines was incredulous. “How the hell do you lose an entire division of cavalry? Four of them at that!”

  “They disappeared from view and didn't return to it,” Simmons shrugged, pointing on the river model to show where they had lost sight of the Norland force. “This stretch is heavily forested and it's nearly a mile across at that point in some places. Even with a good glass it's difficult to see over much. The road or trail or whatever it is they were using apparently ran behind a line of brush and trees and they never emerged. They could still be going north, or maybe west or back south now for all we know. We stayed around rest of the day trying to get a glimpse of them. Nothing. Rode another five miles up river to see if they had emerged from the woods. Nothing. It was almost as if they disappeared. They didn't of course, but what direction they took we can't know. Sorry General,” the younger man shrugged.

  “And no sign of the others either?” Raines clarified.

  “No sir,” Simmons confirmed. “I don't know where they went, sir, but they didn't keep following the river. Of that we're certain.”

  After Simmons was gone Raines looked at his m
odel and then looked at his maps. They knew so little about the other side of the river. His men had been stationed here primarily as a deterrent to Tribal raids in times past. This was the first time he knew of personally or in history that the Tribes had worked with the Nor. Seeing Imperial troops on the far side of the bridge had come as something of a shock to him when it had happened.

  In times past they had been reluctant to risk angering the Tribes, so information about the far side was limited. No scouting parties had gone over the bridge in many years. A few less than intelligent people had ventured across for one reason or another, but most never returned. There were no accurate maps that he knew of that showed any reliable information about the western shore and beyond.

  For all Raines knew it was desert just beyond the trees that lined the river banks. Or it might be an oasis that all the Tribes shared among themselves, though that was doubtful. When there was no one else to make war on the Tribes tended to practice on one another. He couldn't really see them sharing anything much. Not for long anyway.

  That thought made him wonder what the Empire had promised them to get the Tribes to cooperate with them and with each other. Had to be something special, but there was no telling what that was. He shook his head. That wasn't his problem at the moment.

  His problem was the disappearance of four divisions of Imperial horsemen. That was something that could become everyone's problem.

  ~*~

  “So, the problem now is that we don't have any idea where Therron has gone.”

  Beaumont, Whipple and Johnson were seated around the portico table, sharing a meal and beer. Whipple had just put into words the problem they faced now.

  “He can literally go anywhere he chooses along the shore,” Beaumont made a helpless gesture with his hands. “And there's a lot of shore.”

  “He's got to go somewhere he can commandeer troops and supplies,” Johnson shook his head. “He's not going to let go of his chance to have the throne so easily, gents. He will try to take it again, somehow. And unless King Memmnon has done more to spread the word about his traitorous brother than King Tammon did, then he can likely spin a good tale and get that help somewhere.”

  “King Memmnon is spreading the word, but it can only spread so fast,” Whipple said. “Arrest warrants have been issued for both of the twins in fact, as well as Callens and his senior officer, for Crimes Against the Crown, treason and the murder of the King. But until that word gets out to every post, it's a race to see who gets where, first.”

  “I think Moble would be among the last to get word,” Johnson mused. “But it's possible that Jayville or Red Rivera would be later than them, too,” he added, thinking of two major cities north of them. “Both have naval ports but no ships based there that I know of. Certainly not since the Keyhorn Squadron went north.”

  “What if he just left?” Beaumont asked. “What if he just gets this idiot, Chastain, to drop him somewhere in the Sea of Storms? Or in Berma, for that matter? There are any number of places within easy sailing distance that he could choose. Places where who he is would matter. He could claim to be a ruler in exile, forced from the throne by his family, all that sort of rubbish. Some would probably believe it.”

  “Might at that,” Whipple nodded thoughtfully. “And he is a silvery tongued bastard for sure.”

  “He is that,” Johnson agreed. “As it is though, I don't see any way for us to know wh-”

  “Captain!” a shout from a running Lieutenant Smith made Johnson go quiet. The young lieutenant ran up the steps two at a time, gasping for breath as he plowed to a stop before his commander.

  “Easy son,” Johnson said, rising to his feet. “What is it?” Johnson wasn't nearly so worried at the moment about pirates or Chastain returning or anything else for that matter. Two brigades of troops could do a great deal to ease one's mind.

  “Sir, look!” Smith gasped, thrusting a rough piece of paper into his Captain's hands. Johnson took it and opened the small roll, moving to the recently lit lamp. His mouth worked at first as he read, but then fell open as he finished.

  “Well,” he tried to keep his trademark calm as he lowered the note and looked at his guests. “I guess I made more of an impression on Major Guilford than I had realized, gentlemen.” He passed the note to Whipple, who read it aloud.

  “'Captain Johnson, I am unconvinced that we are doing the right thing, but I cannot prevail upon Captain Chastain to see reason. While you have no reason to believe me, myself and my marines are in fact loyal to Soulan, even before we are loyal to the Crown or the man who wears it. The Marshal has told us that he is being held as part of a coup attempt, and asked that we carry him to Norfok, where he hopes to gain assistance from the Coastal Province government. He believes they will lend him material aide in returning to his 'rightful place' as the ruler of Soulan. Please remember that I tried to help in the event he is insane. Major John Guilford, Marine Detachment Delta, commanding.'” Whipple lowered the note as he finished.

  “I'll be damned,” Buford was the first to speak. “Where did this come from, lieutenant?” he demanded.

  “From this, sir,” Smith held up a bottle that had the neck broken from it. “One of the men found it on the beach today during police and wondered what the note said. That's when we discovered the note, sir.”

  “Guilford had to have dropped this right under Chastain's nose,” Whipple was shaking his head. “You did say he was reluctant.”

  “He was,” Johnson nodded. “From the outset I believe. He tried more than once to get Chastain to stop but idiot that he is, the Captain kept plowing ahead. It's possible that Guilford felt that his men might side with Chastain if he tried to go against him, or that he's trying to play both sides against the middle. He warns us, but supports Chastain.”

  “Or he had a change of heart after hearing you out and was already in a bind,” Beaumont mused. “Maybe this was all he could come up with,” he shrugged when the other two looked at him. “Chastain is a Captain, but in a Commodore's slot, commanding a naval task force at sea. Puts Guilford in a bit of rough place, doesn't it? Hung for mutiny, or hung for treason.”

  “Hadn't thought of it that way,” Johnson admitted. “But once they found out the truth, that should have stopped them. They should have backed down and left.”

  “Well, now we know where they're going,” Beaumont said. “Makes cutting them off easier.”

  “We know where they told Guilford they're going,” Whipple amended. “Doesn't mean they're going there. Or that they were and might change their mind. Still, it's a start. We can now send a courier to Savannah with this information. If Chastain is taking the bastard to Norfok, them the Navy will have time to get someone there to cut him off, assuming we still have a Navy.”

  “And we should probably send a courier to the Marshal, reporting what we know and asking for instructions,” Beaumont nodded. “We can head for Cove Canton in the mean time. Be in a position to cut off Therron McLeod and any help he manages to get from the Coastal Provinces Coalition.”

  “I can't see them offering him any help,” Whipple shook his head at that. “Therron is a good a talker, to be honest, but he's got nothing to bargain with. I suppose there may be something he can offer, but what it might take to get the CPC to aid him, I can't say. I can't imagine them helping him at all, especially with the Nor on the prowl. We're all that keeps them from being annexed by the Empire.”

  “True, but Therron likely has some contacts among their military,” Beaumont offered. “If there's a way, you can bet he will find it.”

  “I will send two of my men to Nasil with a full report from me and you,” Johnson said. “If you can provide an escort of maybe ten men to ensure they can complete the mission that would be a great help. And they can carry your, uh, evidence I guess, to the King as well. Not a job I would relish, to be honest. Long way to carry something like that in this heat.”

  “We can place it in formaldehyde, in a glass jar,” Beaumont's voice was
cold. “I wouldn't bother but orders are orders. They want to make sure there's no way for someone to say later that either one is still alive in the event they end up dead and can't be brought back for trial. Makes sense, distasteful as it might be,” he admitted.

  “We can do that,” Whipple told Johnson. “Makes sense to let your men go as well. This is your post. We'll be leaving a reinforced company of men here with you for security while our wounded recover. And in case Chastain comes back or pirates try to take advantage of the war.”

  “I appreciate that very much,” Johnson nodded. “We'll take care of your wounded. Once they're all able to travel, we'll see them home. I will arrange some ambulances from Jayville if nothing else.”

  “Better sound officers call,” Beaumont sighed. “We need to be on the road when the sun gets up high enough.”

  “I was hoping for one more easy day,” Whipple echoed that sigh. “Oh well. We can always sleep when we're dead I guess.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  -

  Colonel Mason Stang had more jobs than he had people to give them to. That was a problem that wasn't going to change any time soon he knew, but that didn't make things any easier to get done.

  Two days ago a courier had entered the city riding hell bent for leather on a horse that was closer to glue than not, bringing news from a Brigadier named Pierce that a large Imperial cavalry force was headed for Nasil on the Lovil Trade Road. Trade Roads in Nasil were ancient roads once called 'highways', (why he had no idea). These roads ran all through the Kingdom connecting most major cities and allowing ease of travel on major trade expeditions. Many of those routes ran through to the north as well. The Tyree Dynasty had always made it a point to maintain these routes both for trade and for defense use. A fine idea save for times like this when it left a wide and well maintained road right into the heart of the Soulan capitol and the seat of government for the entire Kingdom.

  As senior officer and commander of the Palace Guard, Stang was in overall command of the city's defense. Normally that job would fall to at least a Brigadier, but there wasn't one around at the moment. He wished there was one around, since he would likely also have a division of troops at his command and right now that would be a welcome sight indeed.