by N. C. Reed
But there was no Brigadier and no division of troops. There was one coming and he had a force that was roughly equivalent to about half a division, but they were independent commands tossed together for this particular mission, which meant that their actions would not be nearly so well coordinated as an actual fighting division would be. It was possible that there would more help coming from Cove Canton, in the form of part of Prince Parno's personal regiment and the 1st Soulan Cavalry Division, both of which were elite units and would definitely make a difference, assuming they made it here before everything was done and over with. But until and unless all of those units arrived, it was his regiment and Robert Moore's and a smattering of other small units and individuals pulled together on the spur of the moment.
Using the Royal Palace Citadel as the primary defensive position was the best decision possible in their circumstances, but it was not ideal simply because the fortifications there were meant to be manned by a full division of troops at a minimum. They had less than half that number available and not all of them would be able to use a bow, the primary weapon of defense in a position like this unless the enemy managed to gain the wall. Should that happen then the sword would become the weapon most needed for defense, and there were too many of the people arrayed for defending the position that had little to no training or experience with a sword.
Two thousand four hundred and nine professional troopers from the combined commands of the Palace Guard and King's Own regiments would be the bulwark of the defensive force. Their number was about one quarter of the minimum needed for defending the palace citadel, but there was no point in worrying about that now. What they had was all they had.
“Scouts are out, sir,” a young lieutenant reported, shaking Stang from his thoughts on the problem at hand. “Orders are to move across the bridge and take post two to three miles up the Trade, depending on the best position they find. At first sign of the enemy they are to immediately return here with word, stopping for nothing.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Stand nodded. “Please inform all battalion commanders to assemble here in twenty minutes.”
“Yes sir,” the young man nodded and hurried away, waving for nearby enlisted runners to attend him. Stang spent the next twenty minutes going over his plan. He could wish for more men, but there was no point and no time to waste on it.
He had what he had. It would have to do.
~*~
“We should hit the capitol by noon tomorrow,” Silas Weir said as he walked his horse beside Stone. “Do we have a plan as such, or will we just burn and pillage and then try to cut out before they can muster a force against us?”
“We 'll play it by ear until we see what's there to oppose us,” Stone admitted. “I'd like, ideally, to do a good bit of damage if we can. Even if it's not damage that would directly affect the war effort, significant damage to their capitol could at least be bad for morale and force them to pull troops permanently away from the front. Anyone we can pull away from the troops opposing Wilson will only help when he starts moving again.”
“Will he start moving again?” Weir asked. “He's been slow in moving since he hit major resistance where he is now.”
“I don't know,” Stone admitted. “I don't know what he will do or not do. He doesn't share with me. He does seem to be getting very good at laying blame for his failures anywhere except on himself.”
“I've heard that's a trait among generals,” Weir snorted. “Assuming we can wreak havoc here and get away without a major engagement, what next?”
“I 'll wait and see do we get away, first,” Stone replied dryly. “I think we can deal with whatever we face here, so long as we don't linger. We need to do what damage we can as quickly as we can and then make with the getting the hell away from here part of the plan.”
“Are we going to try and hit their Royals?” Weir asked. “Hit their palace or whatever?”
“I don't know,” Stone sounded thoughtful. “Depends, I guess. If they concentrate their defense there to protect their King, then that leaves everything else open to attack. If they try to defend the entire city then attacking the royal residence should pull defenders away from other targets to defend their King. We 'll wait and see what we see I guess.” He stopped then and pulled his horse forward.
“Mount up, Sergeant Major,” he said to his chief NCO.
“Sir!” the man nodded and looked at the bugler. “Mount and stand ready,” he ordered. The bugler blew the call and it was picked up and carried down the line. It took about five minutes for over twenty-thousand men to mount and dress ranks.
“Forward, gallop!” Stone barked and the bugler dutifully sounded that call next. The smooth way the entire column began moving was a testament to how well trained and experienced the Imperial Cavalry was compared to past efforts. Five more minutes saw the entire command once more galloping toward Nasil and whatever waited for them there.
~*~
“Take a break,” Winnie ordered her students. “Rest, eat, make sure your families are safe if you have them. Work assignments for this afternoon will be available through Lady Stephanie's chief orderly. We will continue to assist with the hospital until and unless we are attacked.” She looked at the assembly. Her initial students had been joined in the last two days by another fifty-two students. Some would never amount to much as archers went, but at this point every little bit would help.
“You're all doing well considering how short a time you've been at it. In the event we find ourselves fighting, remember your training and you will do fine. Stay calm and keep your focus. And remember this; this is an opportunity for us to prove that women can help defend this Kingdom. Make sure we make the most of it, right?”
Many of the voices, mostly of younger women, added their agreement to her statement.
“Dismissed then,” Winnie waved, and the assembly began to break apart. She watched them go, resisting the urge to shake her head. If only they had begun this earlier. Several of her students showed a good eye-hand coordination that with time and training would make them excellent archers. But time and training would be hard to come by in time for what was coming.
“Winnie gal!”
Hearing her father calling her broke Winnie from her regretful rumination. She turned, looking around her until she spotted her father riding a wagon being drawn into the center of the palisade.
“Pa!” she waved and started forward but he held up a hand.
“Wait right there, girl!” he ordered firmly and turned to the wagon's driver, whom she recognized as one of Mister Roda's assistants, Billy. After speaking to him, Whip jumped down from the slowly moving wagon and made his way to his daughter.
“How is things moving here, gal?” he asked without preamble, embracing his daughter as he spoke.
“It could be better,” she admitted. “I should have been training these girls a long time ago instead of trying to get myself sent to the front to fight alongside the others.”
“That bad?” Whip asked, ignoring his daughter's admission that she'd been trying to make her way into combat. It wasn't as if he hadn't known about it.
“It could be worse as well as better,” she amended. “Many of them show great promise, but there ain't-there isn't, time to develop their potential right now. Assuming we live through this, I'm gonna make it my mission to train 'em up to make a defense force for the city. Assuming it works, we should be able to do it for ever major city in the Kingdom.”
“Sounds like my girl is startin' in to thinkin' like a Queen to me,” Whip teased. “That sounds like a good idea Sweet Pea. I think it 'll work out fine if'n you was to do it yourself.”
“I would, though I'd take some of my better students from here to help,” she nodded. “And of course was a certain grizzled old archer to offer to help, I'd likely accept it,” she teased back.
“Well, the only grizzled old archer I know of around here close by is plumb busy at the minute, but if I can get the time I'd be proud to hel
p,” Whip promised.
“What are you doing?” she asked, and he pointed toward the gate in answer. She looked to see a team of oxen pulling a trebuchet inside the walls, with another behind.
“We're bringing the stuff Roda uses to test his what-nots before sending 'em to the Army,” Whip told her. “Ain't like having a great bunch of artillery but it's a help I reckon, since we brung along most of what he had ready to go. We can shoot so long as them two pieces hold on,” he told her.
“Does Memmnon know?” Winnie asked, trying to keep her excitement down.
“You know, I doubt he does,” Whip mused. “We just decided yesterday evening to do this here, and been working at it pretty much since then. Got a whole bunch o' Roda's goodies coming, assuming we get the time to put 'em where we can use 'em. Mind you it takes a good shot to set off some of 'em,” he eyed her warily.
“We need to poll the regiments and find any high skilled archers among them I suppose,” Winnie bit her lip as she thought. “Some probably are okay with a cross bow. Comes to that, some of that River Guard that's still around should be good with an arbalest since they use them so much.”
Whip tried not to preen too much as he watched his baby girl making such plans and figuring far in advance. She had grown a great deal of late and while he was tickled that she would some day sooner than later become Queen, it was her ability to lead and to plan that his pride was complete in. She was a force to be reckoned with, even at her young age. How could a father not be proud of such a daughter?
“Sounds like you got work to do too, baby girl,” he winked at her. “I better go and see to this here other. Roda 'll be like to have a spasm o' some kind soon and some of us needs to be 'round to keep him from running off the help. Love you gal,” he kissed her forehead lightly and hugged her tight.
“I love you to Poppa,” Winnie said softly. “Come eat supper with us tonight if you can,” she said.
“Will if I can,” he promised.
~*~
“Stephanie, you look tired, dear.”
Stephanie looked up to see her mother hovering over her, concern etched on her face.
“I haven't had time to be tired, mother,” she smiled wanly. “There is too much yet to do if we are to be prepared for what is coming.”
“Stephanie, you are one of the few physicians here in this city,” Madelaine Corsin told her only daughter. “You cannot allow yourself to fall into poor health at a time like this. Come,” she ordered, holding out her hand. “I have a small lunch waiting for you in the office your father is using. We will sit quietly for a few minutes and eat while you rest. And all of this will be waiting here when you are finished, unless of course someone else comes along and takes care of it in the meantime. Now come.”
Stephanie thought of resisting but decided it would waste more time and energy to argue with her mother than to simply acquiesce to her demands. Leaving her inventory where it was she followed her mother to the small cubbyhole of an office in the back of the barracks where there was indeed a small meal of fresh fruit, bread and cheese waiting along with wine.
“So,” Madelaine said once they had settled and took a plate. “I received a very interesting letter from Edema Willows of Cumberland not long ago,” she dropped this tidbit out of the blue. Stephanie had been about to take a bite of apple and froze with the fruit still poised for that purpose.
“Close your mouth dear,” Madelaine smirked. “That is in no way an attractive look for you.” Red faced, Stephanie went ahead and bit into the apple, though unaware of the taste now.
“Edema tells me that you and Prince Parno have become very close,” her mother continued. “I must say I was surprised to hear that from her rather than you, considering that you have been here over a month now at least. Of course, you haven't really taken the time to visit us much, now have you?” her tone was more amused than disappointed, but the words still hit Stephanie hard.
“I've been rather busy, mother,” she temporized. “Not just in caring for the King, but in starting new training programs. Also I am serving as the official Chaperon for Winifred during her courtship with the King. That takes a great deal of time as well.”
“I'm sure it does,” Madelaine nodded. “And I'm glad to see you doing such a thing as well,” she added. “It's good that the poor girl hasn't been thrown into this life without anyone she can depend on to help her adjust. She's fortunate to have you, dear.”
“Thank you,” Stephanie bowed her head slightly at the compliment.
“That does not explain, however, how it is that I have to learn of your. . .arrangement, with Prince Parno by letter from an old classmate,” Madelaine continued, her eyes literally dancing with mirth. “I wish to know all there is to tell from you, daughter.”
Stephanie felt tears welling in her eyes despite her best efforts, but she managed to keep them at bay and force her voice to be firm if not strong.
“I'm afraid there is no longer anything to tell you, mother,” she said calmly. “The Prince and I did indeed have an arrangement of sorts, assuming he lived through the war, but I'm afraid that in my haste I pushed him too far, and then responded to his concerns with derision and anger. As a result, I do not believe that such a relationship exists between us any longer. Indeed, he departed the next morning before I could take the opportunity to make things right between us. I'm afraid that my final words to him the evening before could have been interpreted to mean I had no desire to see him again. That was not what I meant, at least not really, but it could have been taken that way.”
“My poor dear,” Madelaine said after a moment of silence. “You never have learned to get a handle on that mouth, have you my daughter?”
“That's very helpful, Mother, thank you,” Stephanie replied dryly. “What would I do without your insight?”
“Don't sass me, Missy,” Madelaine shook a finger at her daughter. “What have you done to correct this mess you've made?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Stephanie replied flatly. “There is no need. Parno McLeod is many things, Mother, but forgiving isn't one of them. I made a terrible hash of things and put him in a terrible position out of pure selfishness. And then accused him of selfishness when he wouldn't accede to my demands. I. . .I said a great many things in anger and disappointment that were designed to hurt him, and it apparently worked. As you said, I must learn to control my tongue better.”
“So you're just giving up, is that it?” Madelaine asked, her tone and facial expression indicating what she thought of that plan.
“Mother, this city is about to come under attack in the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours,” Stephanie resisted the urge to roll her eyes. “I really do have more important considerations at the moment than my failed love life!”
“I see,” her mother nodded slowly. “Don't have the courage to face him then. Well, I'm not surprised,” she sighed theatrically. “I blame your father for this, really. He was a lot like that when we married. Always trying to avoid anything that might be a conflict.”
“If you talk to anyone at Cove Canton then you'll know that there was no shortage of 'conflict' between Parno and I,” Stephanie said acerbically. “And there is a difference, Mother, between lacking the courage to do something and knowing there's no point.” She rose from her chair, only a few bites of her food eaten.
“I am indeed fortunate to have so many people around me who know so much better than I what it is I need to do, or to say, or what I am lacking in the way of courage, strength, or whatever else you can come up with. Now if you will excuse me, I have work to do.” Before her mother could respond Stephanie was out the door and gone, fighting to hold back the tears that her mother's words had threatened to release for the first time in many days.
It was really too bad that her parents had decided to remain here and help out.
~*~
Edema Willows bit back a curse as her carriage struck yet another obstacle in the road causing it to bump and buck. Traveling to Na
sil was normally a much easier and more comfortable task, but apparently the war was delaying work on the normally well maintained roads between Cove Canton and the capitol. She had also requested that the trip be made as quickly as possible, which was not conducive to comfortable travel.
“Benson, do you think the driver could miss at least some of the bumps we encounter?” she asked dryly.
“Sorry milady, but the road is a bit of a mess,” her foot man reported from his post beside the carriage. “At least we'll soon be in Nasil, milady. By noon, most like.”
“Excellent,” Edema smiled in spite of the harsh traveling conditions. A courier had reached her home just five days ago with a message from Winifred Hubel explaining how things had suddenly deteriorated between Parno and Stephanie Corsin. She frowned for the umpteenth time as she recalled Winnie telling her that Stephanie had reportedly pushed Parno into a corner on something private and then spoken harshly to him when he had resisted her.
Of all the childish things to do, she thought not for the first time since receiving that letter. She should know better than something like that! After all that boy has been through, pressing him on something he's uncomfortable with is a bad plan from the very beginning.
She broke out of her train of thought as her carriage began to slow.
“Benson, what's going on?” she demanded out the window.
“I'm not sure, milady,” he admitted carefully. “We're coming into the edge of the city and…well, it appears almost deserted. Abandoned, even.”
Edema felt herself growing cold at that pronouncement.
“Benson, listen carefully,” she ordered as calmly as she could. “Order the driver to head directly to the palace and do not stop for anyone not in the Dynast's colors. No one. Hurry now!” she urged.
