by N. C. Reed
“Fair enough,” Parno nodded. “Where do I find my soldiers?”
“King’s Barracks,” Memmnon answered. “Right here in the grounds. Captain Willard is in command.”
“Enri Willard?” Parno asked. “The sword champion?” Enri Willard was the holder of the coveted King’s Sword, acknowledged as the finest swordsman in Soulan. He was also Captain of the Palace Guard.
“No. His younger brother, Karls.” Memmnon corrected. “Not quite as good as Enri, but very good nonetheless and his men are fine soldiers.”
“I will leave tomorrow or the day after then. Does that meet with the Crown’s approval?” There was only a slight tinge of sarcasm in Parno’s voice.
“Parno, you needn’t voice your disdain of the King to me. I assure you, I know all too well your feelings for Father.”
“I doubt that very much, Memmnon,” Parno said quietly. “I doubt it very much indeed.” With that Parno turned and departed, leaving his brother to look at his departing back.
*****
“You’re daft, lad!”
Darvo Nidiad had never minced words, even with the Prince he had served so faithfully for nineteen years. He saw no reason to start now.
“Darvo, it’s not as bad as all that,” Parno objected. “And it makes your Colonelcy, something you wouldn’t have gotten any other way, so long as you remained with me.”
“I care not for that,” Nidiad replied. “I am near to retiring at any rate, lad. I’m too old to start trying to make soldiers out of thieves and killers.”
“Then consider this retirement with pay and benefits,” Parno offered. “Look at it! A King’s Writ, our own garrison, and little in the way of expectations! Select a few trainers, oversee the organization of the unit, and sit back and watch the fun. You know as well as I do that no one will ever interfere with us. They’ll likely never think of us so long as I am out of Nasil, which is the true objective after all. We’ll live out our lives in relative comfort on the King’s Crown, far from the cares of the great city of Nasil and the scrutiny of King Tammon the Terrible.”
“Don’t be treasonous,” Nidiad chided. Parno scoffed.
“Don’t be a hypocrite,” he shot back. “Come on Darvo! I can’t do this without you.”
“You can’t do it period,” Nidiad replied. “Make soldiers from the dregs of the King’s Prison? They couldn’t stay out of prison, lad. They aren’t likely to be paragons of virtue, you know. Thieves, killers, brawlers and the like. Men who would cheat their own mothers out of their life savings, then kill the poor woman to keep her from calling the constable. Forget it lad,” the old soldier said kindly. “‘Tis folly to even consider such a notion workable.”
“Fine,” Parno said, disgusted. “Stay here, then, and enjoy your retirement. But I don’t have much of a choice. I will never be allowed another opportunity to get away from here and keep at least some dignity. My family hates me, wishes me dead. There’s nothing here for me, Darvo. Nothing to keep me here. This is a chance for me to get away from here and do it without living from a saddlebag the rest of my life. I can’t afford to turn it down.”
“But that’s exactly what you should have done,” Nidiad told his young charge. “Turned it down. It’s a fool’s errand they’ve sent you on. Your ‘company’ will be the laughing stock of the army!”
“Not if you’re in command,” Parno persisted, sensing the old man weakening despite his objections. “And we have a full company of veteran soldiers assigned to us as well.”
“Led by who?” Nidiad asked scornfully. “A wet-behind-the-ears ass kisser? Looking to get ahead by doing a Royal ‘favor’?”
“Karls Willard,” Parno said smugly. “Enri’s younger brother.
“Indeed?” Darvo’s interest seemed to perk up a bit at that.
“Indeed,” Parno nodded emphatically. “So there’s at least one indication that the idea, despite my involvement, is being taken seriously. For all his faults, and his dislike of me, Memmnon isn’t a liar. He told me plainly that he had intended to pursue the idea even before he suggested my involvement.”
Nidiad did not respond right away. His eyes gave away the fact that he was calculating. Parno decided to sweeten the pot.
“You can move, lock stock and barrel, Darvo. Dahlia can be placed on the books as the cook, and . . . .”
“My daughter will not play servant to a bunch o’ crooks and killers, Parno McLeod!” Darvo roared.
“My cook, you irritable old fart,” Parno sighed in exasperation. “The only people she’ll be cooking for is yourself, and perhaps the physician and secretary. Not the soldiery.”
“Leaving out yourself, o’ course,” Nidiad pointed out.
“I’ll be eating with the troops,” Parno said quietly. Darvo’s eyes rose at that.
“A Prince of Soulan? Scion of the House McLeod? Messing with common soldiers? A scandal for sure.”
“So be it,” Parno shrugged. “Look, Darvo. This is the only opportunity I’m ever likely to have to make a name for myself as something besides the son Tammon McLeod loves to hate. The men we choose will have to be loyal to me if this is going to work. Who are they likely to respect more? A Prince who lives in a big house and eats privately? Or a man who shares the same food and discomforts they themselves endure?”
Nidiad looked fondly at the young man he had served as surrogate father for so long. Parno had always applied himself wholeheartedly to everything he’d set his mind to. The boy had been a sponge, soaking up knowledge like a rag soaked water. In truth, Parno was something of a military tactician himself, though neither his father nor especially his brother Therron would never give him credit for it even if they knew.
Nidiad knew for a fact they didn’t know. Just as they were unaware of the younger McLeod’s horsemanship or swordsmanship. Had the law not forbid his competing Nidiad had no doubt that Parno could have defeated even Enri Willard in the annual King’s Sword competition.
For the first time since the conversation began, Darvo Nidiad gave serious thought to the idea of making soldiers out of prisoners. True, there were likely to be some stalwart lads found in the King’s Prisons. Men with savvy and spirit. Many of them would be skilled in at least some of the attributes needed by a good soldier.
“Just what kind of unit were you planning on forming, anyway?” Darvo asked.
“Cavalry,” Parno replied at once. “A mixed bag of mounted men. Lancers, swordsmen, and archers. Every man trained expert on one weapon and proficient with at least one other.” Nidiad smiled to himself as he recognized his own influence on Parno’s thinking.
“And where, pray, do you intend to get the horses and saddlery for such a unit? For that matter, the swords, lances and bows?”
“King’s Writ,” Parno replied smugly. “I can get anything I want, remember? As to the swords and the lances, I hope to find an able blacksmith and sword-maker who can provide us with quality weapons without depending on the King’s Armory. As to the bows, I thought to venture into the Apples and seek out a bow-master. It might be that we can find a man who can teach us to make our own.”
“If not, then we’ll find the best we can and purchase them with King’s Crown.”
“Thought of everything, have you?” Nidiad smiled.
“No,” Parno replied. “But I’ve tried to. I’ve been turning the problem over in my head trying to see what problems I might encounter and then working on a solution. Of course,” he smiled, “no plan survives contact with the enemy.”
“Indeed, lad,” Nidiad laughed, slapping his leg as Parno used another of his own teachings against the old soldier. “Very well, Parno, me lad, I’m in. But,” he said, a thick and calloused finger raised in point, “my daughter will not accompany us. She can make the trip after we have set the place to order and I’m satisfied it’s safe.”
“Fine,” Parno agreed. Darvo’s own wife had died in childbirth just as Parno’s mother had. Parno had always wondered if that had influenced the older man
’s decision to remain in his post as retainer, despite the fact that he could not rise above the rank of Major in doing so. His daughter, Dahlia, was his pride and joy.
“Very well, then,” Darvo rose. “Let’s be over to the Barracks and meet Captain Willard. I’m sure he’s as thrilled as I am to be on this mission.”
“Have to get your uniform fixed first,” Darvo said. “You’re a Colonel, now.”
CHAPTER TWO
Parno and his ‘troop’ had departed Nasil on the third day after Memmnon’s summons. Their first stop would be the city of Jax far to the south. Jax was the Capital of the Misi province and also home to a King’s Prison. One of the smallest, but a King’s Prison no less.
The trip was uneventful. Parno, Darvo, and Karls Willard had spent most evenings around the fire, discussing the job before them. Willard, it turned out, did not share Nidiad’s misgivings.
“There are some likely lads behind the gates,” Willard said on one such evening. “Men who will be strong in body, mind, and spirit. Have to strain rather fine, I admit, but still, there’s bound to be some potential there.”
“It’s finding the potential that gives me cause for concern,” Nidiad countered. “The same men you will find those attributes in will also have no desire for military life. Many of them will see this as simply a way out of prison. We’ll be lucky to pass the winter before finding half of them gone and the other waiting for their chance.”
“Not likely,” Parno said quietly. “Penalty for desertion in this unit is hanging.”
“You can’t do that, lad,” Nidiad objected. “King’s Law specifies imprisonment for desertion, equal to the remaining term of service at the time of desertion.”
“This isn’t a normal unit,” Parno pointed out. “Besides, it isn’t my idea. It was written into the overall plan and Memmnon signed off to it. So desertion, in this outfit, will be on penalty of death.”
“Well, that will take the starch right out of any snowbirds,” Willard observed in a near whisper.
“I hope it will cut down on any frivolous enlistments as well,” Parno agreed. “We’ve a big enough task without throwing any more problems into the mix.”
*****
Their arrival in Jax was unheralded. Parno disliked the pomp and preening associated with his rank anyway but there had been no warning of his impending visit regardless. The first word the Governor had of the Royal Presence was when his secretary entered the office stating that Prince Parno desired an audience.
Parno was ushered into the Governor’s office at once, while the governor, a kindly appearing man named Jerl Harkin, made abundant apologies for not having received the young Prince ‘properly’.
“I’m quite satisfied that I am properly received, Governor,” Parno said, silencing Harkin's apologies. “I am not the King, nor even the Heir. No such dignitary welcome is needed or even desired.”
“Still your Majesty should have been received properly,” Harkin insisted.
“I will state for the record that I have been so received, Governor.”
“Thank you, milord,” Harkin bowed. “How may I be of use to you? My office and I stand at your disposal.”
“Quartering for my men and care for our horses would be much appreciated, Governor,” Parno replied. “Other than that, I am here on business that should not affect your office. I merely wanted to make a courtesy call to inform you of my presence and that of my men for a few days. It seemed only proper that you be notified of my presence in your province and your city.”
“I thank you, Highness, for that courtesy,” Harkin bowed, “and of course, your men and horses will be placed in the House Barracks here, if that’s agreeable to you.”
“More than agreeable, Governor,” Parno bowed slightly. “I thank you for that kindness.”
“Is it Royal business that brings you here, milord? Or is that too forward of me? I ask only to see if there is any way in which I might render assistance.”
“Not forward at all, and I thank you,” Parno replied. “I am, in fact, here on King’s business. I am looking to form a military unit of inmates from the various King’s Prisons. I am touring the facilities in person looking for likely candidates. Any recommendations you have on that issue would be welcome.”
“Prisoners? Make soldiers of King’s Prisoners?”
“If possible, yes.” Parno explained the basis of the unit, including attributes that he was likely to find useful.
“I must say, milord, such is an extremely . . . interesting idea,” Harkin said when Parno had finished. “In all candor, however, I must say odds are long against you in succeeding.”
“To be sure,” Parno nodded. “Still, the idea has attracted attention at the highest level, so there’s aught to be done but try.” ‘Highest Level’ in Soulan meant Royal involvement. Coming as it did from a member of the Royal Family itself, the term likely meant the King himself.
“My wife’s cousin, Felden Bates, is the warden at the Jax prison, Your Highness,” Harkin volunteered. “He would probably be able to point out any suitable candidates among his inmates. Though I must remind the Prince that the King’s Prison here is quite small compared to most of the others.”
“May I mention you to Warden Bates, Governor? By way of introduction?” Parno asked. The Governor looked appalled.
“Certainly not, Your Highness!” he exclaimed. “I will accompany you there, and make the introduction myself!”
“Very kind of you, Governor, but hardly necessary,” Parno replied.
“It’s the least I can do, milord,” Harkin insisted. “Besides, it will give me a reason to leave this office, even if it’s only for a few hours.” Parno laughed.
“Then I accept, and gladly, Governor,” he said. “Far be it from me to deprive you of a few hours peace.”
*****
The Jax prison was small with no more than three hundred inmates. Compared to the one in Lana, the Capital of the Gera province, it was almost non-existent.
But among those three hundred or so prisoners might be one or two that Parno could make use of.
“Welcome to Jax Territorial Prison, Your Highness,” Warden Bates bowed after the introduction by the Governor. “Myself and staff are at your disposal.”
“Thank you Warden,” Parno replied graciously. “I have no desire to impact your duties. However, I am, as the Governor explained, here on a Crown matter. Right now, I’d like to begin by reviewing the records of all prisoners in your custody. Afterward, should I find any suitable candidates, I will require only a minimal guard to escort the prisoners to me and then back to their cells. Will that be a problem?”
“Of course not, Highness,” Bates replied. “I must add my opinion to Governor Harkin’s though that this enterprise is unlikely to be successful. The sort of men you are likely to find suitable in other ways will likely prove uncooperative.”
“I doubt it not,” Parno smiled. “Yet it is a Royal Order, thus I have to try.”
“Of course, Your Majesty,” Bates replied with a small bow. “I will set you up in the meeting hall and provide you with the records you seek. I will assign a clerk to you as well, to help with the records.”
“That’s more than helpful, Warden. Are there any of your inmates that you think might bear special scrutiny?”
“Well, milord, there are a few poachers among the prisoners who are excellent woodsmen and skilled archers. They are here for hunting on King’s Land. Whether they would participate or not, I cannot say.”
“Send me their records first then,” Parno ordered.
“As you will, milord.”
*****
“What a sorry lot,” Nidiad offered an hour later. He and Karls Willard had been helping Parno peruse the records of inmates confined in the prison and so far had found only two dozen or so likely candidates.
“What did you expect, Darvo?” Parno asked with a chuckle. “As you yourself pointed out, these are criminals.”
“Aye, that I di
d,” Nidiad nodded. “Still. . . .”
“Here’s an interesting one,” Willard offered. “Blacksmith. Killed a man in a drunken brawl. Felled him with one blow. Only the circumstances kept him from the noose.”
“What circumstances?”
“Never in trouble before, and the man he killed started the fight,” Willard said, still reading. “Had this case been sent before the Bench in Nasil he’d never have gone to prison. Ah,” Willard added suddenly, “now I see. The man he killed was a minor official. Off duty constable, also drunk. Apparently he was nephew to the Judge who pronounced sentence.”
Parno took the file, reading for himself. Willard was correct it seemed. In a proper court, such a case would have been dismissed. Clearly the judge in question had allowed his own sentiment to interfere with his duty.
