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

by N. C. Reed

  The front ranks took the brunt of the first volley as only a few archers thought to loft their arrows over the foremost riders. Several Imperial horsemen hit the ground with multiple arrows in them. Many of their horses suffered just as badly with some taking as many as a dozen hits.

  The battalion commander was not in the front rank, his horse not being quite as fast as the men of the leading company. Seeing his men being torn to ribbons, he immediately began to scream orders to his men.

  “Pull back! Fall back! Take our wounded with us and fall back!”

  His men didn't have to be told twice. Grabbing fallen comrades who were still showing signs of life, they began to try and get clear before the next volley. They almost made it.

  The second volley was lofted higher this time, Chad taking the time to order such before releasing the second round. Arrows once more flew down the street and again many of them found targets. More men falling, dying, screaming in pain and fury. More horses injured, though not so many as before, more blood shed in the streets of Soulan.

  “Retreat!” the battalion commander gave up on the notion of an organized withdrawal, electing to try and save as many of his men as he could. “Everyone pull back now!”

  One final volley of archery fire caught the rearmost ranks before they could pass out of range, felling still more and ensuring a route of at least that one battalion.

  “Cease fire,” Chad ordered, his voice calm but carrying. “Cease fire! Report damage and casualties.”

  There were none. This time. The Imperials had been caught flat footed and it had cost them, but they wouldn't be caught like that again Chad knew.

  From here on in, things would get messy.

  ~*~

  “Is it me?” Stone looked from one division commander to the next. “Do I not speak clearly enough? Is that the problem? Because it's obvious there's a problem or my men wouldn't continue to die doing the very things I tell them not to!” By the time he finished he was screaming at nearly the top of his lungs, clearly excised.

  “Did I not say to advance cautiously, with an eye toward the enemy having set an ambush for us?”

  “Yes sir,” the three men all nodded.

  “And did I not say that if they were in that palace that we would sack the town rather than try to attack fortified positions manned by archers?” Stone pressed, his anger not easing in the least.

  “Yes sir,” the trio acknowledged.

  “And yet, here I am, receiving a report that my vanguard battalion is a complete wreck that has suffered over thirty percent casualties in the very attack that I said we weren't going to attempt!”

  “Many of that number are only slightly injured sir,” Jerome Baxter tried to help the situation. “And we can place those who lost horses on the mounts of those who have fallen and regain some of th-”

  “How does that make it better!” Stone cut him off savagely.

  “I just meant that the losses would end up being somewhat less than first thought, sir,” Baxter fought the urge to sigh. It hadn't been his me so he wasn't really in any trouble for this, just a co-recipient of an ass-chewing.

  “Which still leaves-, never mind,” Stone made a sudden slashing motion with his right hand. “Enough. What's done is done. Get scouts out around the city. Find any militarily important buildings, storehouses, armories, sundries and the like. Get a report on what's here and what we can do to it. We need to be moving as soon as possible, but I want to do as much damage as we can before then. Go!”

  They went. Leaving a still seething Stone looking at the palatial fortress in the distance. Mocking him.

  ~*~

  “Tom, you may well have been right,” Chad noted as he watched the activity of the Norland cavalry through his scope.

  “Huh?” Hildebrand looked at him in surprise. “What did you say?”

  “I said you may have been right about their intentions,” Chad repeated, not seeing the look on his second in command's face. “I don't believe they intend to attack us. Likely that battalion was acting on their own, possibly even against orders.” He lowered the glass and looked at Hildebrand. “What?” he asked, finally noting the look Hildebrand was sporting.

  “I'm still recovering from shock,” Hildebrand told him.

  “What?”

  “Shock at your saying I might have been right,” Hildebrand delivered straight-faced. Laughter rolled down the line from men of Third Battalion at their XO's antics.

  “Well, it is a rare thing,” Chad replied dead pan, and the laughter grew. “But as I was saying, even a blind pig will find an ear of corn on occasion, and you appear to have found one. I think they're going to do as much damage to the city as they can, but not attempt to carry this place.”

  “How much damage can they do that will affect the war effort I wonder?” Hildebrand mused, his comedic routine shelved now. “I don't know what's out there,” he admitted.

  “Nor do I,” Chad nodded. “But I have to assume that Stang or Moore does. We'll have to wait and see.”

  ~*~

  “We'll have to wait and see what they do, Sire,” Stang said. “They appear to be scouting the city at the moment. It is entirely possible that they will simply sack the city and run.”

  “That's bad for the city but it would mean very few casualties for us,” Memmnon nodded absently. There were undoubtedly some people still in the city, diehards that would have refused to leave home or hearth for any reason. Whether the Nor would spare them or not he had no idea.

  “They will likely destroy the stores we couldn't move,” Stang sighed. “That will be a loss.”

  “It will, but we can move supplies north from other areas,” Memmnon nodded again. “It will hurt us, but with the new settled areas of refugees and our opening of the Reserves for planting and harvesting we should be able to offset the loss. It will likely mean hard times in the immediate future, however, as well as a lean time before next spring.”

  “We can take the men outside the walls and try to-” Stang began but Memmnon held up a hand to silence him.

  “No, Colonel. Under no circumstances. Parno mentioned something that has stuck with me these last weeks and most especially since this event began. It is easier to grow grain and other food than to replace a solider or horse lost in combat. They will damage the city, but she has seen damage in the past. They will steal and rob and burn, but we will rebuild. We will persevere because we must. Taking your men outside these walls would be tantamount to suicide. You would be outnumbered at least ten-to-one, and those odds are too great.”

  “Let them do what they will,” he ordered. “They cannot remain here long, and we have men coming. So long as they do not try these walls, let them do as they will.”

  “Yes, Sire,” Stang nodded his understanding. “It will be done.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  -

  The occupants of the palace fortifications watched all morning and into the afternoon as the Nor cavalry poured through town, looking into everything they could find. It was a systematic effort, the military officers noted, with no looting or wanton destruction of any kind visible from their vantage point. Instead it was as if the enemy soldiers were taking an inventory of the enemy's capitol.

  Which it turned out was exactly what was happening.

  “Reports, gentlemen,” Stone ordered his division commanders as they assembled with him after lunch. He was still angry about the morning debacle and his terse speech showed it clearly.

  “We have located fourteen storehouses, or warehouse type buildings so far,” Weir began. “Five of them are empty, doors left open and not enough inside to feed a rat if one was inside. The rest are closed up tight still.”

  “Over two dozen sundry stores carrying everything from seeds to tools to clothes,” Baxter went next. “None of them have anything of especially high value, just a lot of the regular kind of things that people need for every day living. We also found a slaughterhouse out on the western edge of the city. There are
twenty-nine head of cattle there and a handful of pigs, apparently awaiting slaughter.”

  “There are a number of high end places that sell dresses, liquor, books and such like,” Blake tallied the last bit. “Again, there's nothing really special about any of it at first glance, though it does all seem to be high quality. Some of the dress shop also have a good bit of high priced jewelry as well. And there are at least nine banks in the city proper that we've found so far. Three of them are pretty impressive looking and might have gold stores inside, though without going in we can't really tell. They definitely look prosperous though.”

  “A few deserted armories around, probably militia oriented,” Weir added. “Some are attached to what look like police offices or constable stations, whatever they call them. Clubs, swords, a few shields, but nothing really high quality. About what you would expect a city police force to be providing to new recruits.”

  “Same for blacksmiths,” Baxter was looking at a piece of paper in his hand. “Seven of them, two that also appear to make swords. I found one beautiful sword hanging in the shop of the second one we visited. As good or better as anything I've ever seen to be honest. Lots of horseshoes, lance tips, arrowheads, the usual run of things that you see in such a place.”

  “”No less than four schools,” Blake reported as if he couldn't believe it. “I had always heard they had a thing for education down here, but I didn't really think it was true. Apparently it is. These are big outfits. One is obviously a college of some kind, but the rest are-”

  “How do you know it's 'obviously' a college?” Weir demanded, cutting him off.

  “Might have been that sign out front that said 'college',” Blake's tone was acerbic at best.

  “Will you two stop that shit!” Stone demanded. “Enough! Going down the list the storehouses are item one. Open them up and let’s feed our troops on their stores, then burn them to the ground. Weir, Blake, your men on that. Baxter, your men on the banks. If there is gold there, we want it. See what's there and get it if we can use it. Keep scouts in place as we have been. I don't want to be caught off guard. Now get moving. I want to be settled in well before dark so we can see where we are and what's around us.”

  ~*~

  “Looks like they're preparing to break into places, sir,” someone called from down the line.

  “Going to sack the city then,” Chad sighed. He wished there was a way to prevent it, but there was literally no way for so few to fend off so many outside these walls.

  “Wish we had the strength to go out and meet 'em,” Hildebrand said softly. “Arrogant bastards.”

  “Reckon they 'bout to get cut down a notch or two,” Whip Hubel was looking through his own glass as he spoke. “They just about the try and force the door into-”

  His sentence was cut off by a distant thunder that actually seemed to shake the ground slightly. Men and women not familiar with Roda Finn's experiments ducked instinctively, while the Sheep all raised up slightly to see the expected damage.

  “Well, there goes that storehouse,” Whip said calmly. “And at least two dozen Norland troopers I'd hazard, though it's hard to get a count from this far out.”

  ~*~

  “What in the hell was that?” Stone bellowed, though at no one in particular.

  “Sir, it came from there,” his aide pointed. Stone followed the point to see a column of smoke rising in the air.

  “What's over there?” he demanded, already taking the reins of his horse from his enlisted runner.

  “Sir, General Weir was examining a Soulanie stores house in that direction,” the aide reported. “Could this be the 'witchcraft' that the infantry were all talking about?” he asked.

  “There's no such thing as witchcraft,” Stone snorted. “Something exploded, that's all. Probably grain dust. Happens once in a while back home as well. Grain breaks down and creates something called methane, which is highly flammable. Just a spark is all you need to set it o-”

  He was cut off by a second explosion and a new column of smoke and fire rising into the air, this one some distance south of the first.

  “Yes sir?” the aide asked as Stone looked on, shock evident on his face.

  “Let’s go,” was all the general said.

  ~*~

  “Pass the word to all commands, don't enter any buildings!” Weir was shouting as Stone arrived. “They may all be rigged like this! That's two already and nearly fifty men dead! Get moving!” Two dozen runners headed in all directions to carry the warning to the troops before anyone else fell victim to the traps the Soulanies had left behind.

  “Silas! What the devil?” Stone demanded as he rode up.

  “That's what it is alright,” Weir replied grimly. “They've done something to these buildings, Brent. My men opened one and the damn thing blew up right in our faces. I thought it was a methane build up, like the grain bins back home in the cities?” He paused to see Stone nod in understanding.

  “Then the next one went up the same way a minute later,” Weir continued. “Had to be sabotage. Had to be. Two buildings doing this? One I would have chalked off to bad luck, but two has to be som-” he was cut off by a distant boom that rolled over them, accompanied by an equally distant new fire. The runners hadn't made it to everyone in time.

  “Make that three,” Weir sighed grimly. “This whole city is a damn deathtrap.”

  ~*~

  “How many buildings did you fix that way?” Hildebrand asked Whip as he watched a third column of smoke rising into the sky.

  “Nine total,” Whip answered, lowering his glass. “The hope was they'd hit them first and think all of them are like that.”

  “Looks like they hit them first anyway,” Chad nodded. “That Roda just keeps surprising a man, doesn't he?” he asked with a grin in his voice if not on his face.

  “He does that, Colonel,” Whip nodded. “He does that.”

  ~*~

  “It would seem that I owe Mister Finn an apology,” Memmnon managed to sound calm despite the excitement he was feeling at the trio of explosions in the distance. “He had indeed managed to hurt the enemy at no cost to us so far.”

  “I'd say three storehouses full of supplies is a cost, Sire,” Brock murmured.

  “Stores we had lost in any case, General, and houses the enemy would have almost certainly burned to the ground once they had taken their fill. It's entirely possible they will avoid the rest now for fear of getting similar results in all of them. That will save the remainder.”

  “And they might just burn them all and be done,” Brock replied.

  “Are they any less lost than they would have been the other way?” Memmnon asked, turning to look at his Inspectorate.

  “No,” Brock replied almost grudgingly. “No Sire, they aren't.”

  “Then grumbling about it is useless, wouldn't you say?” Memmnon's voice was still pleasant but there was now a hint of steel underneath. “We will have to observe what happens now.”

  ~*~

  Stone looked at the bodies of his men laid out in the street, covered with saddle blankets and ponchos. Men burned and disfigured beyond recognition in some cases, identified only by personal effects, or by process of elimination.

  The wounded were worse, if only because their screams carried everywhere. Men burned, blinded, limbs torn from bodies, hair and clothing on fire and skin nearly melted off of bone. Clothing and metallic objects melted onto the skin in some cases, with no way to separate the two.

  Damn this country, Stone thought savagely. Damn this cursed country and every person in it straight to hell.

  “Report,” he said dully as his division commanders assembled around him.

  “We didn't find anything like this in the few buildings we had entered, but it was just three buildings of little consequence. Small sundries stores was all.” Baxter knew that he and his men had dodged a very large bolt with their assignment.

  “Lost seventy-three dead and one hundred six wounded, some who are sure not to l
ive out the night,” Weir reported bitterly. “Some of the burns. . . .”

  “Forty-four dead and thirty-seven wounded,” Blake sighed. His men had opened the final storehouse to explode. “And some of mine, perhaps a dozen, also probably won't live through the night. Not if God is merciful anyway,” he added, his voice as bitter as him compatriot.

  “What were they using that could do that?” Baxter asked into the silence. “It was like it made the fire burn hotter. I didn't know that was possible.”

  “What? Something you don't know?” Weir's sarcasm was thick.

  “You know General, no one really likes a smart ass,” Baxter growled. “If you don't want my input, feel free to ride away or close your ears. I'm sorry that you're an ignorant, poorly educated ass who was promoted based on something other than ability, but that does not mean that the rest of us-”

  “I swear, the next one of you who starts an argument like this, dies,” Stone interrupted tiredly. “I'm sick of hearing you three pick and peck at each other, and it either stops here or it stops here. Get me? You don't get other options. You stop doing it, or I'll stop you from doing it, permanently.”

  “Yes sir,” Baxter said, actually contrite it seemed or at least chagrined. Weir just changed his glare from Baxter to Stone but said nothing.

  “Pile combustibles around the storehouses,” Stone ordered. “All of them. Burn every stinking one of them to the ground. Every store, every stable, every shop. Pull the doors from the banks with horses and see if they explode or burn or whatever. If they don't, then see if there's anything of value in there. Burn everything else.”

  “Everything,” he repeated again, his eyes like coal. “Make them pay.”

  ~*~

  “There goes another one,” Hildebrand noted as the fourth building in one hour went up in flames. “They're being a lot more cautious and careful than before, but they're going to burn the town.”