by N. C. Reed
“Nor do I,” the Tinker nodded. “Nor do I. Farewell, Prince Parno McLeod. We will see each other again when we do. As my father once said, ‘look for me only when you see me coming’.”
“I like it,” Parno grinned, shaking hands with the man. “Ride careful.”
Parno watched the man out of sight, then turned his horse for home.
*****
“Where in blazes have you been?” Darvo demanded as soon as Parno entered the Headquarters building.
“Nowhere, really,” Parno lied just a little. “Just out around the grounds. Seeing what I could. Why?”
“You shouldn’t be out, alone, lad,” Darvo frowned. “It isn’t safe.”
“I’m quite capable of taking care of myself, you know,” Parno replied sardonically. “It’s not like I couldn’t get help if I needed it, anyway.” Darvo nodded, reluctantly.
“True enough, far as it goes,” he admitted. “Well, I have work to do,” he declared to no one in particular, and stomped out of the office building. Parno grinned at his mentor’s gruff exterior. Shaking his head, he went to his office. After two days of idleness, he was sure something needed his attention.
*****
In the weeks that followed, Parno watched the regiment take shape. Good shape, in fact. True, there were rough spots, still. But not so many, and not so rough, as before.
Parno walked among the tents and cabins of the camp almost everyday, speaking to different men, asking after their families if they had them, inquiring to their well being.
At first the men were, if not surly, then only as friendly as they deemed necessary to stay out of trouble. The young Prince was patient, however, and never called attention to their attitudes. Nor did he allow others to do so.
Gradually, the men began to lose their innate distrust of Parno as man of privilege and power. It wasn’t that they lost respect for Parno, the Prince, but rather they that they gained respect for Parno, the man.
The young Royal often rode with them on training missions, though never in a command capacity. When he did, he rode alone, without retainers, other than a runner, who did not, the men took note, wait on the prince.
Parno took care of his own horse, and saw to his own needs. He used a fire just as they did, and slept on the ground when the ride was an extended one. He demanded no special considerations, and accepted none, when they were offered.
Parno trained with them, when on rides, running and stretching and doing Cho Feng’s ‘calisthenics’, often cursing right alongside them at the need. He ate the same meals they ate, and complained just as loudly as they did when the food wasn’t good.
Grudgingly the men around him began to see Parno not as a Prince, but as one of them. A man.
Then there was the fact that all of them who had families now had those families with them. Wives, sons, daughters, even siblings in some cases, had been moved lock, stock, and barrel to the camp. Small but well made cabins had been constructed outside the camp walls, and the families were all settled before winter.
Those with families, as they gained the trust of their commanders, were allowed to move into those cabins as well, reporting for duty each morning just as other freemen would have done. The small selection of cabins grew, as men were added to the roster. After Parno ordered a store built, following the events in Cove, and stocked with goods, attitudes improved again. No longer did anyone have to go into town in order to buy the things they needed and wanted. And the prices in the camp store were far more reasonable than in the nearby town of Cove.
Merchants had grumbled at the presence of the unit so near town, and had often been surly with those families who ventured into town to shop. Now they grumbled again, complaining that Parno’s ‘store’ had cost them business. The attitude in town meant that few if any of the dependents around the fort were welcome in town. They were treated with a surly disrespect at best, and outright hostility more often than not.
As a result, Parno had an even larger building erected, near the center of the small village of homes. When it was finished, the residents were stunned to discover that this building was for their use, as a place to hold dinners, dances, and other gatherings. The women were delighted, which, in turn, made the men happy. Now with practically their own ‘town’, no one had any need to venture into town at all. And no one wanted to, either.
Thus, within the five months that all that had taken, Parno had not only gained their respect, but also their loyalty. Many of them considered themselves so far in Parno’s debt that no amount of service could erase it.
This feeling of debt, however, was not so unsettling as it would have normally been to such men, who considered their independence something worth more than any amount of money. In fact, they learned that depending on each other, and Parno, wasn’t a bad thing. Men who had long been accustomed to going at the world alone, learned that making one’s way was much easier when there were men who could be trusted, counted on to help when the need arose.
And they learned that being beholden to offer that same help in return wasn’t the millstone around their neck they’d always considered it to be. In fact, the men of the regiment learned that the feeling was comforting.
All of these things served to assist in gelling the men into the beginning of a unit, not just a collection of men who might or might not be someone they could trust.
*****
Winter was looming. Colder air was blowing across the Cumberland Plateau each day it seemed. Winter uniforms were issued, along with ‘union suits’, of long sleeved and legged underwear. Parno wondered, more than once, where that term had come from. No one seemed to know.
Still, Parno continued his habit of making his way through the post at least once each day. In this way, he felt, he stayed in touch with the soldiery. He often knew about problems before they were actual problems. And he dealt with them as quickly as possible. And the men, they noticed that too.
“Good mornin’, Milord,” Parno heard over and over as he walked through the camp in the early morning hours. Parno returned each greeting, by name if he could remember, by the term ‘Trooper’ if not. Inwardly, Parno smiled as he thought back on how things had changed in so short a time.
“Good morning, Brenack,” Parno smiled, as he walked over to where the huge blacksmith was laboring at his forge. “Getting an early start, I see.” Brenack Wysin looked up at Parno, and smiled.
“Mornin’ milord,” he replied. “Always best to get going early, sir. Never know what the day’ll bring.”
“So true,” Parno gave a sigh of long suffering. “So true.” Brenack laughed at that.
“You’re far too young to know that kind of misery, milord,” he told his young liege.
“I’ve suffered greatly in the time I’ve been here, my friend,” Parno laughed in reply. “So horrible. It hurts merely to contemplate.”
“You’ve done well for yourself, here, milord,” Brenack said seriously. “This lot,” he waved to the camp around him, “aren’t the kind to give respect to any man, let alone one of noble birth. But you,” he added, smiling slightly, “you’ve earned their respect, milord. No small accomplishment, to my way o’ thinking.”
“I’m glad I’ve managed that,” Parno admitted, “but all I’ve done is try to treat them fairly.”
“And that’s the secret, sire,” Brenack nodded firmly. “All men such as these want, the good ones, mind,” he added with a pointed finger, “is to be treated like a man. With respect. And you’ve done that.”
“Them as had to be sent back?” a huge shoulder shrugged. “That’s as it is, milord. Not all men are good ones, sir. And careful as you was, a few was bound to get through the sifting. Like bugs in the flour.”
“And don’t think that these men don’t know that,” he added. “They’re wise enough to see a truly bad man, and know ‘im for what he is. They ain’t a man in this camp, as I know of, is sad about seein’ them as has gone back depart.”
“I’m glad of that,
” Parno admitted. “I confess, I did wonder at the effect it would have on those who remained.”
“Well, they note that they ain’t been sent back,” Brenack chuckled in his deep baritone. “And they note that only them as was unwillin’ was sent back. They know that so long as they stay straight, they’re good with you. And bein’ good with you has become somethin’ important to most of us.” Brenack eyed Parno closely.
“Not cause you’re a prince, mind,” he told his liege. “But account o’ you giving us all a second chance at life. And a not bad life, at that,” he added, smiling. “Those I know, or come to know in the time I been here, they don’t aim to throw that away.”
“Good,” Parno nodded, pleased.
“Well,” Brenack said suddenly, mindful of how casually he’d been talking to a Prince of the Royal Family. “I best get back workin’, milord. Don’t wanna get sent back, myself,” he added with a final grin.
“I don’t think that will happen, Brenack,” Parno assured him, starting on his way again. “Take care.”
“And yourself, milord. And yourself.”
Parno continued on through the camp, taking note how the men were working. He was very pleased with what he saw. Maybe they weren’t a ‘crack’ fighting outfit as yet, but they were coming along nicely.
Very nicely indeed.
Which was good, since they would likely be needed sooner, rather than later. Thinking on that made Parno think on the Willows, and the Tinker. Even now, this minute, either one might well be seeing something worth knowing. Something that Parno could point to, one way or another, and allay his fears. His suspicions.
He wanted to believe that peace was possible. He wanted to think that there was nothing suspicious about the Norland overtures to Soulan.
Try as he might, however, he couldn’t.
We’ll know soon enough, I imagine, he thought to himself. Still worrying over what might well be nothing, Parno started for his office. He too, had work to do.
*****
For once, Parno had been undisturbed. As a result, he had worked most of the day, clearing his desk of reports, receipts, requisitions, and all the other paperwork that made the regiment work. He was surprised that no complaint had been made of his expenditures, but Memmnon had, so far, been true to his word.
Parno had been careful with his money. Work done on the post was done by the soldiers, especially any labor intensive projects. Several of the men had carpentry experience, and worked for the quartermaster one or two days a week, making repairs to buildings, seeing to it that all was in order. The helped to keep costs down as well.
But there was no real way to hide the money he was spending on Roda Finn. The fussy inventor wasn’t a real drain on the treasury, of course, but the materials that he needed rightfully had no place on an army base. Parno had partially solved that problem by giving Roda Finn his own bunker, house, barracks, and range roughly one mile from the fort itself. Roda had assured him that any disaster that befell him in his work would leave the fort undamaged.
“Probably,” he had murmured, qualifying himself, as he almost always did. Parno winced at that thought. Fussy though he might be, however, Roda Finn was making war materials that Parno was sure he could make use of. Powerful tools that might mean the difference between victory and defeat, someday.
Realizing that it was near dark, Parno finished up his current project, a list of promotional candidates, and rose. Donning his jacket and cap, he walked out into the near dark, just past sunset. Looking across the grounds, he saw a solitary figure standing on the platform above the East Gate. Recognizing the figure, Parno headed that way. As he topped the steps, he found Cho Feng.
“Good evening, Master Feng,” Parno spoke quietly, walking up to where the oriental weapons master was looking at the stars.
“Good evening, young Prince,” Feng replied, without turning. “How was your day?”
“Not bad, considering,” Parno admitted, looking to the stars himself. He often wondered what Feng saw in the heavens at times like these.
“Indeed,” Feng replied. “You are, perhaps, wondering what I see in the stars?”
“How do you do that?” Parno asked, exasperated. It seemed that Feng always knew what was on his mind.
“Do what, Prince Parno?” Feng asked, stifling a grin.
“Know what I’m thinking?”
“I do not know what you’re thinking,” Feng replied laconically. “I do know your habits, however,” he added, turning to face the younger man.
“You have an innate curiosity, Parno,” Feng told him. “This is not a bad thing,” he added. “It is, in fact, a good thing, especially in a man who would lead other men. Perhaps many men, before your life reaches it’s fulfillment.”
“I assure you, Master Cho, that these are all the men I’ll ever lead,” Parno scoffed in good humor. “But they are enough.”
“Things will not always be as they are now, young Prince,” Feng told him cryptically, returning his gaze to the heavens.
“My people,” he continued, after a moment, “have believed for many generations that the future is often written among the stars. That one can gaze into their lights, and see the path that his life will follow.” He turned to grin at Parno slightly.
“His fate, if you will.”
“You share this belief?” Parno asked, curious.
“I do,” Feng nodded. “I cannot explain how. I think that no one can. I cannot even explain how I can see, at least not easily. I often wonder if it is not simply my inner being, seeing what comes my way.”
“A handy gift,” Parno replied ruefully. “One I wish I shared.”
“Perhaps you do, in a way,” Feng told him. “I know that you are troubled by the actions of your Northern adversaries. That you seek a reason behind their actions.”
“They aren’t our adversaries anymore, apparently,” Parno sighed. “But yes, I am suspicious. And I don’t think I’m alone in that. My brother, Memmnon, deals with many affairs of State for my father. As Crown Prince, he is, in effect, the Minister of State for Soulan. He, too, is suspicious.” Just not enough, I fear, he didn’t add.
“And that merely fuels your own feelings,” Feng nodded. “Fanning the flames, so to speak.”
“It does,” Parno admitted. “I don’t know why, in all honesty. Except. . . .” Parno trailed off, looking out over the camp for a moment. Feng waited patiently as Parno worked to gather his thoughts.
“Except it feels wrong,” he admitted finally. “I don’t know any other way to put it. There’s just something wrong with this whole. . .thing.”
“The leopard does not change his spots,” Feng nodded. “They have been your enemy for as long as memory and history can tell. They have invaded your lands repeatedly, killed your countrymen, your family members. It is impossible to trust such a people. Such an enemy.”
“I suppose that’s part of it, anyway,” Parno agreed after a minute of thought. “But it’s. . .it’s more than that. It’s as if I can feel the storm coming in my bones, Cho. Feel it coming, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”
“No, there is not,” Feng told him sadly, looking back to the stars once more. “You cannot stop what comes, young Prince. Therefore you must free your mind of that worry. There is no profit in worrying over things you cannot change.”
“Instead,” he continued, “you must turn your efforts toward seeing through the veil your enemy is weaving. Seek the truth of their intentions, and prepare yourself for their coming.” He looked once more at Parno.
“You must be ready, when the time comes.”
“Ready for what?” Parno asked, confused.
“To meet your destiny, Parno McLeod. For Destiny rides a swift horse, and she gallops headlong for you.” With that, Feng turned and left the dais before Parno could question him further. Parno watched him go, then turned to look into the stars himself.
Finally, he shook his head.
“What the hell is he seeing up
there?”
CHAPTER EIGHT
Parno watched as the column rode out of the small fort. A full company, mounted and in full armor. Provisions for three days. One hundred miles to go. It was a circle that never ended.
Between the prisoners, those on the ‘wanted’ list who had come in seeking a fresh start, and a few hardy volunteers who had simply walked in, the regiment was becoming a true regiment, with just over twelve hundred troops. Since the basic training had pretty much ended, the men had been shaken down into companies. Each company had a ‘specialty’ of sorts, be it archery, infantry, artillery, and one company of cross bowmen. In keeping with his plans, however, everyone was required to master that one weapon, and be at least moderately skilled with another.
