Ah, so they were waiting to see what he would do? Well, alright. Darius could live with that. If I ever lose a battle, though, I’d better start watching my back. “Bohme, is it really that peaceful in the court? The queen seemed to think that no one would dare go against her.”
“No one would,” Bohme said matter-of-factly before picking up his cup and tossing the contents in one long gulp. With a satisfied sigh, he wiped the back of his mouth with his hand. “Queen Treshea ish the worsht kind of enemy. But you knew that.”
Darius couldn’t help but chuckle. “Yes, I suppose I did.”
“They all wonder why you shwitched shidesh sho eashily,” Bohme said cautiously, like a man edging along a path lined with eggshells. He carefully didn’t meet Darius’s eyes, focusing instead on the food. “They wonder why you betray Brindishi.”
For all Darius cared, they (whoever ‘they’ were) could keep wondering. But he needed Bohme to trust him, and to do that, he had to answer that question. “Brindisi has grown too large. They are ripe for self-destruction. But if just one country can repel them, can rebel against them, it will stop their conquering ways. It would save the Sovran.”
Bohme blinked at this reasoning. “Then, Niotan…?”
“I want Niotan to be that country.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing at his chin thoughtfully, and added wryly, “Well, and I owe Queen Tresea for not killing me outright and giving me a chance to live. Serving her seems like a small price.”
This seemed to satisfy Bohme, as he beamed, revealing crooked teeth. Then he happily went back to consuming Darius’s share of breakfast.
Sego arrived just as they were finishing up, three strange men in tow. They looked a little tired to his eyes, as if they had ridden hard to get here. They hadn’t been in the field when called, had they? Actually, they probably had been.
“A fair morning to you, General,” Sego greeted with a bow.
“Your timing is excellent, Sego,” he responded in kind. “Come in. I assume this is my new staff in your wake?”
“Indeed, sir.” Sego stepped into the room just enough to give the other three a chance to properly enter. Then he turned, a hand extended. “This is Navid of Khoor.”
Oh, so this was the man infamous for doing the unexpected? Darius had always expected him to be a scholarly sort of soldier, considering some of the more brilliant tactics this man had pulled, but he looked like a street thug—messy black hair standing out in a deranged halo, a ring hanging from one ear, skin dark and rough from the sun. The only sign of intelligence came from his eyes—those dark eyes calculated and weighed everything they saw. But, Khoor? He hailed from the capital? Sego had mentioned he rose through the ranks, like Darius had, but if he hailed from the city itself, then…maybe he really did hail from the streets? Regardless of his background, getting to this rank all on his own was impressive.
He bowed properly to Darius, who responded with just as much respect.
“Kaveh of Javeed.”
This time, Darius’s imagination had gotten closer to the mark. Kaveh could be used as the example on how a military man should dress. His dark hair was slicked back, every line of his uniform in place. The one thing different was the nose—if that nose had been broken less than twice, Darius would be very surprised. He too gave an appropriate bow.
“And Ramin of Shakham.”
“General!” Ramin gave a choppy bow, his torso jerking downwards before bouncing back up. He had a boyish voice that fit his fair looks. In fact, if this man had been out of his teens for more than a year, Darius would eat his new sword. Well, maybe it was the hair. For some reason, Ramin had dyed his hair a vivid red that stood out in high contrast to his blue uniform. “We were told by Raj Sego that you chose us yourself, sir.”
Brash, indeed. But Darius didn’t dislike that. “I did. Out of all the commanders I faced from Niotan, you three showed me the most potential. You’re also the most flexible—you didn’t try to adhere to any plan, but changed according to what happened.”
“You didn’t give us much choice on that, General.” Kaveh’s tenor voice had a hint of dryness to it.
Darius flashed him a smile. “Alright, let’s get to work. The queen expects a strategy from me on how to win the war. I have a rough idea, but we need to refine it.”
All three of them froze and looked at him in astonishment. It was Ramin, of course, that dared to ask the question. “Sir…you really think we can win?”
“I don’t fight hopeless causes, Commander.”
Perhaps Queen Tresea’s curiosity proved stronger than her restraint, or perhaps she simply grew impatient, but whatever the case she summoned Darius to her hours before dinner. Fortunately, between Sego and his staff, Darius had all of the information he needed to make rough plans and even refine a few details. He would have liked to have gone over it one more time, just to see if he had missed anything obvious, but it would do for now.
He left his office with orders for his commanders, gathered up aide and bodyguard, and went directly to the queen’s personal study. He half expected at least one or two of the generals from the war council to be in attendance but, upon entry to the room, he only saw the queen and her bodyguard.
The room had nothing in it except three long benches, one of which nestled right next to an open window. With the cream walls and light green cushions strewn about, it felt very…feminine. The floral scents coming from the gardens outside the window reinforced that impression. Darius had thought of it as a study, but now that he had stepped inside, it felt more like a place to retreat and relax. Why meet here, of all places?
The queen must have come from doing something official, as she wore the blue of her country. The gown was sleeveless and flowing, made in a light material that would breathe well in this heat, and there was a delicate crown of gold around her forehead. She didn’t rise, but her hand gestured him to the bench across from her. He silently bowed and took the seat, a little cautiously, because the furniture frankly didn’t look up to bearing his weight.
“General,” she said with frank anticipation, “what plan do you have for me?”
“This plan is still very rough in areas.” He felt it only wise to put a disclaimer out there now, before she started picking holes in it. As he spoke, he turned and pointed Sego to sit next to him. He could see the almost instinctive objection forming on Sego’s face and he made his expression more stern. They were likely going to be here for hours, and he wasn’t about to let the man stand around on a bad leg that long.
Sego clearly realized that arguing would get him nowhere. He looked to the queen for permission, which she granted with an inclination of the head and an amused look at Darius. Cautiously, Sego eased onto the bench.
Satisfied, Darius continued, “I still need more information to plan everything out fully. But I can give you an overview of the first stage.”
“First stage?” she repeated, forehead crinkling into a frown.
“The reason Niotan has managed to fend off Brindisi for so long is because of your mountains to the north,” he explained calmly. “The open plains on your eastern flank and the ports on your western side are the only places that an army can easily invade. Your generals are obviously aware of this—they’ve put all of their energy into protecting that eastern side, making sure that no one can easily pass through the plains. That area is certainly my highest priority. But if I were in command, I’d change tactics at a certain point and circumvent the plains, heading directly for your ports. You have many able sailors and trade ships, My Queen, but you have no navy to speak of.”
She watched him with unfathomable eyes. “They have never attacked my shores before.”
“That’s because I was this close,” he held up an index finger and thumb, holding them a scant inch apart, “to conquering you by land. Brindisi is in essence land-locked. They’d have to use the navy of one of their conquered nations to attack you by sea. So of course they’ll avoid that and use it as a last resort.”
“So the second stage will be to focus on our shores,” she concluded thoughtfully. “Very well, you have made your point. So tell me of the first stage.”
“King Baros has overextended himself,” he started, wanting her to understand his reasoning. “Because he’s so focused on conquering, like his father, he’s losing his ability to govern what he already has. At the rate he’s going, the Sovran will crumble in another twenty years or so. I saw the signs even before the attack on the capital.”
He could see by her expression that she didn’t quite believe him. Shaking his head, he rephrased is so that she could understand.
“My Queen, it’s not just a matter of supplies and fresh troops. Every army has to have unification in order to fight successfully. The reason Brindisi’s armies could fight so fiercely in the beginning is because they were accustomed to fighting with each other. They’re all from the same culture, they speak the same language, and they’re fighting for the same purpose. That solidarity is one of the most important strengths for any fighting force.
“But Brindisi’s armies now…aren’t Brindisi’s. They’re a hodge-podge collected from every culture and countryside imaginable. Never mind being from the same culture, they don’t even speak a common language! Orders are constantly mistaken, garbled in translation, or even ignored. No one reacts the same way on the battle field, no one can predict what their comrades in arms are going to do, it’s madness. The Sovran will fall for the simple reason that no one can successfully point that army in the right direction.”
“That’s the hazard that any Sovran faces,” she observed. “I grant you, I can see how it would cause many difficulties. You think you can use this to our favor?”
He nodded in confirmation. “With an army that haphazard, conquering yet another territory is madness. Even if you won the battle, you could not win the war, for there is no way to maintain control. At this point, just one successful rebellion would undermine the king’s authority and the whole illusion of strength he has will topple overnight.”
She listened to his words patiently, without expression, until he stopped speaking entirely. Then she nodded thoughtfully. “I see. You do make an excellent point. History has shown us that conquerors often make this mistake.”
“We’re very close to being conquered, but conversely, we’re also very close to being the one country that prevails against them. It’s largely because the armies fighting us have no unity or strong leadership.” Glad she understood him, he took out the map he had brought with him and knelt on the ground so that he could roll it out for both of them to see. “I need time to build fortifications here, along the mountain passes, and here, along the open plains. To do that, I’m going to employ two tactics that will buy us a little time to work with. First, are you aware that in order to pass through the mountain highways, it takes wagons with a special springboard?”
Her smile became wry. “Indeed I am. I often hear merchants requesting a highway built northward for that very reason.”
“Be glad you didn’t do it,” he responded with matching wryness. “It just saved you from being conquered that much faster. I propose that we destroy the wagon train that is sending supplies here, to Brindisi’s troops, and also destroy the companies making those wagons.”
She blinked. “Isn’t that difficult? How many companies are we speaking of?”
“Only two, actually. Because there’re not enough demand for that many specially made wagons. In fact, the only people that really need them in this area are the ones that pass through those mountains.”
“Hmmm.” She lifted a hand thoughtfully to her chin. “So, in fact, it would be very easy to do.”
He pointed to the three springs residing near the mountain’s base. “I’d also like to dam up the mountain water that feeds these springs. With limited food, and no water, the troops will become easy targets.”
She gave him a complicated smile, half-sympathetic and half-perturbed. “That is a rather ruthless tactic in this desert land.”
“Less bloodshed,” he pointed out calmly. “We need every day that we can steal. The two missions I just spoke of can be handled by a small, elite force. While they are working, I need to train your soldiers more. Half the reason they’re failing is a simple lack of stamina. After two or three hours on a battlefield, they start to flag. They need to fight for at least eight hours in order to stand a chance.”
“In this heat?!” she objected while pointing at the sun blazing through the open window.
“Even then,” he answered firmly. “Granted, I will avoid that whenever possible. But even then, they must be able to fight.”
A disbelieving laugh tumbled from her lips. “My generals always claimed that the men under you were monsters, like tireless demons. I think I see why, now. Very well, General, bring them up to pace. What else?”
“A few innovations with the shield designs,” he added while rubbing at his chin. He sat back on his haunches a moment, hand flat against the map. “As it stands now, the men can lock their shields together for protection, but the opposite side will do the same, and then they get into these useless shoving matches. I’ve seen one battle where that’s all they did, all day, just shove at each other with their shields. All it did was sap the men’s strength without winning them any ground.”
“I’ve been told of this. If you can think of a way to avoid it, do so,” she commanded. “Now, you spoke of armaments that need to be built?”
He sat back up on his knees to point at the map. “Along this mountain pass. Built correctly, a minimal force can hold off an army for an unbelievable amount of time.” Ruefully he added, “I used to have nightmares that one of your generals would figure this out.”
She rubbed at her forehead. “It worries me that none of them did.”
Yes, me too. Shaking his head, he continued, “But these defenses are not effective until they are all built. And that will take at least three months of solid effort. In reality, they are something I want to keep out further invaders. The first task I really need done are wooden barriers built here,” his finger trailed along the plains on the map, “so that we can control how many troops can come at us.”
“Wood?” she questioned in bafflement. “Wouldn’t stone be better?”
He met her eyes unflinchingly. “Wood burns.”
Her eyes widened in understanding. “No man would go too near a fire. But stone they would try to scale, is that it?”
“Yes.”
She leaned forward in her chair to study the map more intently. “So first you want to take away their supplies, then their water source, and make them desperate enough to where they have to enter the city just to survive. Then with them in that irrational state, you put in burning barriers to prevent any sort of successful charge. Good gods, they don’t stand a chance.”
“They’ll be forced to retreat back into Brindisi,” he agreed. He couldn’t help but smile at her in approval. She had a good head on her shoulders. Granted, he’d explained everything as simply as possible, but he’d made those easy explanations to “veteran” generals and wound up repeating himself several times before it seemed to make any sense. “I know from experience that it takes a good two months to move troops through the mountain passes and back onto Brindisi soil. And that’s if things go well. So, conservatively, I estimate that they will need two months to retreat, another month to gather up supplies and troops, and then another two months to get back here.”
“Five months.” A fierce light of triumph blazed in her eyes. “You said it took three to build those armaments.”
“By fall this land should be well prepared to expel invaders from the eastern front,” he concluded. “That is stage one.”
She nodded in satisfaction and leaned back. “And stage two?”
“I need more information before I can really plan that,” he admitted frankly. He didn’t have any experience with naval battles, so he’d have to do a lot of research and consult with other people a
s well before making any plans.
“Tell me as soon as you have it planned out,” she ordered.
From his seat, he gave her a bow. “Of course, My Queen.”
“Very well.” Smiling beatifically, she commanded, “Now, let’s go over this again in more detail.”
~~~
The door shut quietly behind them and Darius heaved a sigh of relief. Three hours. The queen had asked him pointed questions for three hours and most of the time he hadn’t known the answer. Thank all the gods for Sego, who usually had the answer or could promise to find it. Otherwise that meeting would not have gone as smoothly.
They had another hour or so before dinner would be served (and the queen had made sure he understood that he had to attend) so he thought he might as well deal with the lack-of-clothing problem. Turning to the man at his side he asked, “Sego, is there some sort of clothing market nearby?”
His aide, for some reason, gave him a weary look. “General, I believe I told you earlier that the queen gave strict instructions that you are to only use the royal tailors.”
Oh. That’s right, he had said that. But… “Even for informal clothing?” Darius objected in surprise. “I don’t just wear uniforms all the time!”
“Everything,” Sego insisted firmly. “But I do agree that you need to build a proper wardrobe. I took the liberty of instructing the tailors here to begin making several outfits for you, but of course they cannot finish anything until they have properly measured you.”
Now when had he found the time to do that? Darius had kept him running with errands since the first night they’d met. For a crippled man, he certainly got around. Raising a hand to his chin, he rubbed it ruefully.
“Alright, then.” Darius looked around him, but he had so little experience with the interior of the palace that he couldn’t begin to figure out how to go from here to there. The entirety of the place had white tiled floors and walls painted in pale colors with windows at every turn. It all looked exactly the same to him. “Sego, why don’t you lead the way?” he suggested.
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