“That's a tactic taken from the old days, is it not?”
“Served our forbearers admirably in several battlefield engagements with charging opponents. Another would be to use the supply wagons as a barricade, but that would risk us being unable to carry said supplies after the battle was over, or being able to retreat with them should that become necessary.”
“The Queen's Lifeguards never retreat!” Upton was up in arms at the mere mention of the idea. “We have stood our ground protecting her since the day we were founded! We never concede!”
“I believe our missing battle honour from the Battle of the Tannenberg Forest would disagree with you, Upton. Now do be quiet unless you actually mean to contribute something useful to the conversation.”
Upton sat back, aghast at the dismissive manner with which Jacob had just dealt with him. It was not done to speak to a gentleman that way, and it was a slight he would have to answer. But only after the campaign was over, and they stood on safer ground. It would have to be a grave personal slight indeed for an officer to be able to challenge their commander in the field.
“What you are saying, Theodore, is that there is very little we can do with the currently available supplies, and that we will have to rely entirely upon weight of shot to keep the lines clear.”
“Unfortunately so.”
“We cannot find our enemy, we have no brilliant ideas as to how to defeat him, and we have little in the way of knowledge about his capabilities. If any collection of officers in the Queen's Army has gone into battle with less information about its opponents than us, I would be surprised. That being said, I am sure we will bring the barbarians to heel and show them the proper characteristics of a civilized people. Now, before Cook accuses me of spoiling his sumptuous dinner, I suggest we begin the repast.”
***
Having completed the furthest outward sweep the force was going to, Jacob turned his three regiments around and cut back across the line of his march, this time edging somewhat closer to where he thought the forest might be. Perhaps the Mountain Lords were getting assistance from the arboreals or the Hungry Ones, now that they had arrived in new territory. Although, given the stories that Umholi had told about the nature of the Mountain Lords, that seemed unlikely. Given the Mountain Lords supposed overall prowess in martial matters, he was somewhat surprised that they had not taken over more of the continent than they currently claimed.
But of course! Umholi had mentioned that the Mountain Lords had lifelong enemies in the Ngaphansi, who no doubt had kept them from expanding their limits, however much that might be desired. Unfortunately, given the reaction of the rest of the continent to the arrival of the Queen's forces, Jacob thought it rather inadvisable to send a mission to the Ngaphansi asking for their help. What he was most likely to receive in return was an army on the wrong side of the line of battle. Best not provoke the sleeping giant until such time as he could be dealt with easily.
Today, the only major feature of their route that worried Jacob, and the only one that would incur any interest at all, was their passage near the base of a hill, although in these plains even so grand a name as “hill” was a fair stretch. It was only two hundred feet tall, more a swelling of the ground, no doubt caused by some entirely uninteresting geological feature that a natural philosopher would witter on about for hours. How such men could find the dullest things exciting he did not know. A proper man thought of war, of honour, of fortune, of things that would support his family. Instead, these benighted creations thought of mineral properties, mathematical equations, and philosophical histories of culture.
The only group that he had any respect for were those who engaged in the development of military arms, for there he could see a clear benefit and contribution to society. Those natural philosophers had chosen to use their natural intellect in the defence of the realm, and while it might not be so direct as the engagement of men such as Jacob, it was still important and not to be overlooked. And on that particular note, he hoped that the reports returning from the front lines and making their way across the long sea voyage to home were inspiring those gentlemen to create new and deadlier weapons of war to counter the challenges presented by the continent on which he stood. There were enough of them.
On that note, perhaps he should place a formal request for some of the military engineers to be placed in New Town. There were enough resources, as well as ample room for safe testing facilities. Well away from any human habitation, as always needed to be the case with those men. Of course, they would likely object to being moved so far from high society and their extended families, but perhaps there were a few adventurous types amongst their number. There had to be, given they toyed with new and untested ways of killing other men. That would hardly appeal to the safe and the rational.
Anyway, back to the matter at hand. According to the reports of the scouts who had ridden today's route, that small bump offered the only place that could actually be used as an ambush spot. Although as the top of the mound was entirely visible from where Jacob stood, he could only assume the scouts were being entirely too optimistic about the enemy's capabilities for ambush. It is generally considered quite hard to flank a foe if they can see you coming from several miles away. Still, he would take it under advisement and have the men on that flank practice their drill as they passed the mound. If nothing else, they could do with the refresher course.
Glad that he had sorted the day's sole problem, Jacob ducked back into his tent, where breakfast should be waiting for him, if Cook was on his usual timing. It was carefully laid on the table, which was good, but in a rather unpleasant surprise neither Umholi nor Inceku were anywhere to be found. Grumbling to himself, Jacob pulled his own chair back and then forward as he sat down.
The noise of the scraping chair brought a scramble from the small servant area of his tent, and Isingane, one of the two female Umkhovu in his employ, appeared with fresh tea in the silver pot, which she poured carefully, if rather artlessly, into his china cup.
“May I ask why you are serving me today, rather than either of my butlers?”
She curtsied, nervous, and Jacob realized she must be one of the youngest adult female Umkhovu in the clan. He had hardly noticed her before, except when she was occasionally around for cleaning purposes or likewise. Indeed, he had not actually seen her when he hired her as one of his personal servants, doing so only on a recommendation from Umholi. Given that to date he had seen no reason to reverse said hiring, he had paid her no mind.
“My lord, Inceku is off training with the bulk of our clan, and Umholi had already agreed to wait upon Joyce and his tent this morning before the training was called.”
“A rather unfortunate turn of events. Still, do the best you can. Also, I am only a Sir, not My Lord. Not, at least, until my father has passed, and he has a great many years remaining on this Earth, of that I am sure.”
“Very good, sir.”
Jacob watched her move about the tent, bringing him the sheaf of reports that he would read with breakfast as well as the second and third courses, clearing away the tableware between each one. She was underskilled for the task at hand, lacking the smooth grace and invisibility that both Umholi and Inceku had learned within the first month of their time as butlers. Which meant Jacob kept looking up whenever she passed by. The constant attention was clearly making her more nervous, but it was quite difficult not to find her a distraction from his notes. He pondered dismissing her for the moment, but eventually decided against it. Forcing himself to focus only on the reports in front of him, the regimental commander ploughed through various details on current levels of supply, the constantly changing collection of minor injuries the surgeon kept track of, terrain reports delivered by Darren's scouts, and all the other minor detritus of command. There were times that he thought the Royal Army alone kept all the paper manufacturers in Queen Cyninge's kingdom in business, along with ink and wax companies.
Jacob raised his hand without looking up from th
e page in front of him, a gesture either of the two male Umkhovu would have instantly understood as a request for more tea. Unfortunately, Isingane once again demonstrated her lack of training for the position she was currently in, and he had to turn around and call her name before she appeared from behind the fold in the curtain that hid the servants’ area.
“Yes, my lord?”
“Tea, if you would be so kind. And, again, I am only a sir.”
She blushed, bowed her head and scuttled away, clearly distraught.
Jacob sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose with one hand, trying to sooth away the stress. If this was a sign of how the day was to go, he was going to be drinking something stronger than his normal sherry with the evening meal. Although given he did have several bottles of a rich single malt laid by, that would hardly be a punishment.
The tea arrived some few minutes later, scalding hot as it should be, but lacking any of the other refinements that gave it the special flavour he enjoyed so much. Giving up entirely on Isingane's ability to serve him, he rose and went into the little butler's area, where the tea kettle was always kept fresh and Umholi had tucked away the spices and sugars that Jacob had with his morning drink.
Once there, he began busying himself with the additions to the tea, only to find that Isingane was tucked into the corner on a small stool, looking rather frightened and tearful. Two thoughts sprung into his mind almost immediately; the first was that he should ignore her, conveying the polite fiction she was alone and no one had noticed her distress, as one would do when one accidently encountered a lady in disarray. The second was to attempt to comfort her, but one only did that when the lady was somewhat less than a total stranger. And then, of course, there is the duty of a lord to those who depend upon them for their livelihood.
It was the third reason that finally decided the matter, so Jacob carefully replaced his condiments and had a sip of the still warm tea before turning to examine his rather unfortunate serving girl.
Seeing her master's attention, Isingane tried to curl up into even more of a ball than before, effected by the process of wrapping her overly long arms about her legs and squeezing more tightly. Jacob thought she looked rather like a young girl having a pout.
Sensing she would not break the ice, he grabbed the other stool that stood in the area and propped himself upon it, looking at her for a long moment before deciding what to say.
“Isingane, a single bad service is hardly worth crying over.”
Sobs evolved into words. “But you could let me go! And I did such a terrible, terrible job.”
“A job, I should point out, for which you are not trained. Nor one that should have been dropped on you by both Inceku and Umholi. The very reason I have two trained butlers is so that if one is engaged elsewhere, the other may serve me. It was most unkind of them to both depart, and leave an untrained girl in their place, unkind to me as well as to you. Also, why would I feel a need to let you go? Certainly, I have no desire to have you as a butler, a role for which it appears you are uniquely unsuited, but I did not hire you as a butler, unless my memory is incorrect. You were hired as a serving maid, and in that role I have not yet seen anything that would invalidate my original judgement.”
A sudden impulse took him and he reached over and tousled her hair. “Now, before either of the others returns, have yourself a nice cup of tea and a sweet. I know Umholi has them hidden around somewhere, and I'm sure you're clever enough to figure out where. And don't worry about the others, I won't tell them of how you performed today. I will just convey my displeasure at their poor sense of timing.”
Isingane nodded, grateful but unable to speak, and turned her attention to digging through the small cabinets full of supplies, while Jacob returned to his tea. It was, of course, cold. Sighing, he drank it anyway, and went in search of Darren. He would deal with Inceku and Umholi later.
He found Darren overseeing the uprooting of his command tent, although given the trained movements of the 1st Royal Dragoons engaged in the task, his presence was hardly necessary.
“You look as if the morning has been rather unkind to you, Jacob. Did something unpleasant come up in one of your reports?”
“I had rather hoped it was not quite that obvious.”
“You and I have breakfasted often enough for me to know when you have and have not enjoyed the matter.”
“A pity I am so easy to read. My father would be aghast. But, now that you ask, I had the rather unfortunate occurrence of both of my valets being unavailable. One is engaged in training under Alastair, and the other serving his second master.”
“Second master? That seems a rather unusual arrangement?
“A consequence of how we first met and engaged the services of the Umkhovu, and one it would be in entirely bad faith for me to upset. Admittedly, today was the first day that anything of the sort has happened, but it did not leave my morning in the most cheerful state. I am just hopeful that said displeasure does not spill over into the rest of the day. The weather, at least, is cooperating beautifully on that front.”
The day which surrounded them was the healthy bright blue of a clear, sunlight sky, with the soft breeze that cools but does not chill. Jacob would have been hard pressed to choose better weather for marching in, and he was sure the soldiers would appreciate it.
“Well, even the best of us do make mistakes from time to time. A little correction should ensure it does not happen again, however.”
“Quite right.”
“Do you have any additions to the plans for the day? I've been thinking that we should engage in some form of unexpected drill.”
“I was thinking a flank defence drill as we pass that hummock. We need the practicee, and we will have a superb view of the movement of our soldiers.”
“I quite concur. May it come an unpleasant surprise to the company commanders.”
They both smiled and said their polite departures, with Jacob striding off about his half of the camp, examining the packing process and correcting little mistakes here and there. It was for the better if the soldiers knew he was always watching. It kept them to a higher standard than they would otherwise have achieved, left to their own devices. Although he had little problem admitting that those standards were exceedingly high to begin with. Being the sons of nobles and serving in the Queen's Lifeguards had a tendency to effect that upon a soldier. Indeed, there was such a heavy burden of legacy in the Lifeguards that some soldiers, whatever their noble upbringing, could not stand the weight, and were quietly shuffled off into other regiments. Jacob himself had had to remove a few men of that sort, and had made sure to do so before their departure to this new land.
Satisfied that the camp was in order, he checked upon his own belongings to see that they were in the proper shape, before searching for Alastair and the Umkhovu regiment. It was still strange to think of a regiment that was almost equal parts men and women, or even to think of a regiment that was not staffed exclusively by humans, but a great many items in his thinking had been forced to change over the last several months and years. And it would have entirely unfair to call the Umkhovu regiment anything but a regiment. They were by no means at the standard of the Queen's Lifeguards, but that particular sentiment could be applied to all but one or two other regiments in the Queen's Army as a whole, and so was somewhat unremarkable. But they might well have been better than some of the lesser regiments, especially those that were comprised of uneducated peasantry. Jacob had served in one during his climb through the ranks, as an officer, of course, and had found that the only way to bring order to such a motley group of soldiers was harsh discipline, and even severe punishment could only stir those creatures to moderate effort at best.
Given that the Uhlobo clan was fighting both for its survival against a world that had quite literally cast them from their homes, there was a great deal more incentive for them to achieve the highest level of skill possible. And while they had not yet achieved that, they had managed enough flu
ency with the order of drill and the basic tactics of regimental warfare that he could allow them to hold the lesser of the wings.
When Jacob arrived, the Umkhovu were engaged in close order drill, marching and wheeling about a trampled square of grass, undertaking those movements both by column and by line. He cast about for Alastair, and rather than finding him overseeing the matter directly, found the company commander standing at the side of the cleared square, watching with a teacher's eye but saying nothing.
A second look showed that it was one of the Uhlobo elders who was issuing the commands to the soldiery, and that Inceku stood at his right hand, as did two other Umkhovu. As they finished a sweep through a reversal of face, Inceku stepped forward and the elder stepped back. Taking over the reins of command, Jacob's valet began to stride up and down, barking commands in a clear voice that carried across the training ground.
Examining the posture and the speaking style of the butler cum company commander, Jacob found that it felt vaguely familiar, and after some moments of introspection, he realized that Inceku was very deliberately aping the style of command which Jacob himself used. Unsure whether to feel insulted or flattered, he let the interesting observation pass for the moment, and made his way towards Alastair, who was by now somewhat nervous, the long wait before his commanding officer addressed him having preyed upon his senses.
Instead of disabusing Alastair of such a notion, Jacob merely stood next to his company commander for some time, watching the performance of the Umkhovu. The extra proximity of the regimental commander was having a visible effect on Alastair, which, honestly, it should not be, for Alastair should have possessed enough political sense to understand that he was the company commander most picked out for promotion. And if he was worried about the quality and reliability of his connections at court, getting the posting that he currently had should have dissuaded him on that regard, given the intense competition that had taken place for officer spots amongst the first wave of units, especially the Lifeguards.
Our Land (Queen's Own Book 1) Page 15
