Parno's Company (The Black Sheep of Soulan Book 1)

by N. C. Reed

  “Milord?” Parno started awake at the touch on his shoulder. He looked up to see Berry looking down at him in concern.

  “Are you all right, milord?” the sergeant asked. Parno nodded.

  “I’m sorry, Sergeant,” he said, standing. “I was more tired than I realized.”

  “No need, milord,” the big sergeant smiled slightly. “There’s a room prepared for you at the top of the stair, sir. We’ll bunk here for the night.”

  “I’ll stay here with you,” Parno replied, but Berry was shaking his head.

  No, milord,” he said softly. “There’s not a man here will think less o’ you for takin’ the room. Do so. Let us worry about down here.” Parno looked at Berry for a moment, then nodded wearily and made his way to the room.

  He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

  *****

  The remainder of the trip was easier only in that the opposition was rain rather than snow. The Trade Route wasn’t far from their first night’s stop and they were on it, galloping east, less than two hours past sunup. Another stop that night put them near Nasil.

  “We’ll be there before dark tomorrow, milord,” Berry promised.

  Parno nodded. It wouldn’t be long now and then he’d have to face Memmnon.

  The easy part of this trip was almost over.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  They arrived just before dark, men and horses exhausted. Royal stable hands took the horses at once while Berry took his men to the transient quarters. Parno made his way into the palace, carrying his valise. Inside was everything he had managed to gather.

  He hoped it was enough.

  He walked directly to Memmnon’s office where a guard told him that, yes, the Crown Prince was still in his office, but had asked not to be disturbed. Parno simply started at the guard until, after ten seconds, the guard murmured; “Wait here, milord,” and disappeared inside. He was back in five seconds.

  “The Prince will see you, milord,” the guard announced. Parno nodded and walked inside.

  “Hello, Parno,” Memmnon smiled as his younger brother entered his office. “What brings you out in such bitter weather?”

  “Memmnon,” Parno nodded in greeting. “It is business of a most urgent matter, I assure you. Else I would still be by my fire.” Memmnon’s face lost its smile.

  “What is wrong?”

  “I have something to tell you, Memmnon,” Parno began softly, “and you aren’t going to like it.”

  ****

  “You set up your own spy network?” Memmnon almost goggled. “Parno, that is not your province!” Memmnon wasn’t angry, exactly, but he was dismayed. His younger brother had worked hard to establish himself. The duel with Enri Willard had impressed even their father, not to mention the onlookers who had gathered for the occasion.

  This threatened to undo everything the younger McLeod had accomplished.

  “No, I didn’t,” Parno replied evenly. “I haven’t a single spy. All I have done, brother, is ask questions. Many, many questions and the answers have disturbed me a great deal.”

  “Questions of whom?” Memmnon demanded.

  “People traveling the Nor lands,” Parno told him. “People who have seen the changes taking place in Norland. People who have done business there, traveled there, even lived there for a time in recent months.” He leaned forward.

  “Memmnon, it is my belief, my fear, that when the spring thaw comes, the Nor will attack us in overwhelming strength. With greater numbers and better training than ever before. If I am correct, then we must begin preparing…now…for that contingency.”

  “Father will explode when he sees what you’ve been doing, Parno,” Memmnon warned. “You must know that. All the progress you’ve made could be lost.”

  “I know that,” Parno nodded in sad agreement, “but what else can I do? I can’t simply set by, knowing what I do, and say nothing, Memmnon. If I’m right, then we face the gravest threat in several generations. If I’m wrong,” he shrugged. “If I’m wrong, then I’m no worse off than when I started.”

  He leaned back, then, as if talking had exhausted him.

  Memmnon studied his younger sibling for a time, turning over what had been said in his mind. Parno had known the risks of divulging his thoughts and still had done so. Not to help himself, obviously, since even he knew that this was likely to spark another round of contentions between the King and his youngest offspring, not to mention Therron.

  No, he had done it because it was his duty as he saw it to present his information. If he was correct then the people of Soulan faced a grave threat, and that was as right as any words ever spoken. Always it had been the Southron cavalry that had made the difference in any war between them and the Nor. If that advantage was now gone and the Nor had built and trained a large army. . . .

  “Show me what you have, Parno,” Memmnon said suddenly, and felt a sadness at the relief on the younger McLeod’s face.

  “He was afraid I wouldn’t listen”, Memmnon thought. “That no one would listen.”

  “Let’s look at your information, and see what we can see.” Memmnon said.

  ****

  An hour later they were still looking and Memmnon’s concern for his younger brother had now turned to concern for the entire kingdom.

  “My God,” he breathed as Parno finally finished tallying the intelligence marked on his closely guarded map. “Parno, this is. . . .” Memmnon trailed off, looking up at Parno’s bleak face.

  How long has he lived with this? How many weeks has he labored under this strain?

  “You’ve done well, Parno,” Memmnon said firmly. “No matter what anyone else says, this is excellent work. I’ve never seen better.” Parno smiled tiredly.

  “I’m glad to finally have someone to show it to,” he admitted. “I have worked and labored for a great long time, growing increasingly fearful with each passing week. I was afraid. . . .”

  “That I wouldn’t listen?” Memmnon asked kindly.

  “No, I felt sure that you would give me a fair hearing, Memmnon,” Parno told him, “but I did fear that no one else would and that the threat would be ignored.”

  “Well, I can’t speak for the King,” Memmnon told him, “but I intend to speak to him at once. Why don’t you wait here? Rest a bit and warm by the fire. I will come for you once I’ve spoken to Father.” Parno nodded tiredly, watching his brother go.

  “And now we’ll see”, he thought bleakly. It was a good sign that he had at least convinced Memmnon.

  “If anyone can get through to him, it’s Memmnon”, he thought. “If he takes his time and doesn’t mention me until it’s all on the table, then there’s a chance. . . .”

  Parno felt a hand upon his shoulder, shaking him gently awake. He started, his eyes snapping open to see Memmnon looking down at him. He hadn’t even realized he was asleep.

  “I was more tired than I realized”, he thought to himself.

  “I hated to wake you,” Memmnon smiled. “You looked so peaceful. I have spoken to father and he wants to see you. Now.”

  “Very well,” Parno sighed, rising to his feet. “May I inquire as to how things went?”

  “They were. . .interesting,” Memmnon replied cryptically. “Let us hurry.”

  Parno followed his brother through the hallways to the King’s apartments. Parno knew the way but had gone there only on rare occasions. Tammon had never been someone Parno wanted to visit and Tammon had rarely invited him anyway.

  As they approached the doorway, two guards snapped to attention.

  “Your sword, milord,” one of the guards spoke softly, indicating Parno’s sword. “You must leave it here.” Parno frowned, eying Memmnon’s own blade.

  “That isn’t necessary,” Tammon’s voice spoke as the door opened. “Never make such a request again,” he added, and the guard paled.

  “Come in, both of you,” Tammon ordered, and the two brothers entered the King’s apartments. Tammon waved them to chairs nea
r his great desk where the map and information that Parno had given Memmnon lay spread.

  “Parno,” Tammon said evenly, “Memmnon has laid this before me and has been very convincing, yet I must tell you, this is beyond your purview. You had no authority to do such a thing.”

  “I am aware of that,” Parno replied evenly.

  “Good,” Tammon nodded. “As it is, however, I am glad that you did. Where it not for you we would as yet be unaware of this threat. Likely our first indication would have been when the Nor hordes came across the border. Thank you.”

  Parno blinked at that, but nodded, holding his tongue. Tammon smiled softly.

  “I know that surprises you,” he said softly. “I have come to regard you in a different light, of late, my son.”

  Again, Parno nodded, not knowing what to say. Tammon’s face lost it’s almost smile, apparently having expected more from Parno in way of reaction, but rather than pursue it he took his own chair.

  “I will shortly summon Therron to look at this, as it is his responsibility to prepare our defenses. I wanted to discuss this with you first, however, as you are the one who has gathered this information…but I want to know something beforehand. Is this,” he waved to the information spread before him, “one of the things you were discussing with Edema?”

  “Yes, my King,” Parno replied formally. “It is.”

  “I see,” Tammon nodded gravely. “Then I owe you an apology as well as my thanks, and that of the Crown,” the elder McLeod said formally.

  “I did only what needed to be done,” Parno shook his head. “There is no need for either.” Tammon regarded his youngest son for a moment, then nodded.

  “Let us turn to the issue at hand, then.”

  *****

  Therron, of course, did not react as well.

  “He had no right! None!...to do this,” the ‘Marshall’ said vehemently, his face red as he waved to the map and information on the table. “I insist that he be removed from his post as. . . .”

  “That’s enough,” Tammon McLeod said quietly, his gaze boring into Therron. “I have already pointed out that this is beyond his purview and he has admitted it. I will point out, once, that this subject is closed now and for all time. Do not raise it again.”

  Therron’s attack lost its power at that. Tammon McLeod wasn’t known for his patience, or forbearance.

  “This issue at hand,” Memmnon took over casually, “is how prepared are we and what must we do to ensure that we are as prepared as possible for this eventuality? As Lord Marshall,” Memmnon managed to keep his words from sounding scornful, “that is your purview, brother. So speak.”

  “The Nor war making capability is a farce,” Therron snorted at once, almost a knee jerk reaction as he was still glaring at Parno. “If they attack, we will destroy them. Our cavalry. . . .”

  “Will be outnumbered,” Tammon said evenly, “and against better opponents than they have ever faced.”

  “Nor cavalry is a joke,” Therron scoffed.

  “And would you make that same statement in regards to the Wild Tribes?” Parno risked speaking.

  “What?” Therron asked, nonplussed at the change of subject.

  “The Nor have acquired horses from the West,” Tammon grated, his patience with his middle son nearing an end, “and trainers as well. Thus their cavalry will not be quite as humorous as you may believe.”

  “From the Wild Lands?” Therron looked as if he’d eaten something spoiled. “Are you sure?”

  “Yes,” Parno nodded. “Over a dozen different sources have relayed to me that Wild Men are training the Nor cavalry on mustangs brought in great numbers from the Wild Lands…and they have been doing so for at least a full year.”

  “In what numbers?” Therron asked, his temper cooling rapidly.

  “At least twelve divisions—divisions, Therron—that have so far been positively identified,” Memmnon replied evenly. “Divisions that number roughly eight thousand each.”

  “Twelve divisions,” Therron was aghast. “That’s a near two-to-one advantage over us,” he breathed, “and if they are well mounted and well trained. . . .”

  “They are,” Parno assured him, “and the army is massive, Therron. Nearly half a million men, if the numbers are anything like accurate.”

  “How likely is that?” Therron regained some of his composure at that opening. “These people you’ve talked to, how versed are they in studying and identifying. . . .”

  “One of them is a former Soulan Cavalry leader who now owns a large ranch in the western part of the province,” Memmnon answered for Parno. “As such, I must assume that he is at least capable of distinguishing good horsemanship from bad and good horse flesh as well,” he added.

  Therron’s attack flagged again as he sat back in dejection.

  “Well?” Tammon asked testily. “Are we prepared for such a war?”

  “No, My King, we are not,” Therron admitted. The words almost dragged from him. “We cannot possibly withstand such a force, at our current levels.”

  “How long to prepare for the invasion, then?” Memmnon asked, “and what are their likely avenues of attack?”

  “Their best route is to simply force a crossing over the Ohi and come straight down the Kent plains and into the Tinsee valley,” Therron rose, pointing to the map. “It’s almost a natural invasion route and gives them forage if they time their attack right.”

  “As to how long?” Therron looked bleak. “We have twelve divisions of infantry, seven of cavalry, and two divisions of heavy infantry. Even with the Militia,” Therron shrugged, “we’ll have less than half their numbers.”

  “And the Militia will not be able to withstand such an attack,” Tammon pointed out.

  “Not likely, no,” Therron agreed.

  “Then we have a great deal of work to do, it seems,” Tammon rose from his chair looking far older to Parno’s eyes than when the youngest Prince of Clan McLeod had walked into the room.

  “I’ll order increased training in the southern regions at once,” Therron nodded, “where the weather is more accommodating than here. We will commence training everywhere as soon as possible, however.”

  “We’ll need more men,” Memmnon said softly. “We’ll need to raise several new divisions. I’ll see to the preparations for equipping them.”

  “We’ll muster the militia once a week, as well,” Therron offered. “Increase their training regimen and bolster them with new recruits. It’s faster and more efficient than raising a new division from scratch.”

  “How many Militia divisions can we muster?” Tammon demanded.

  “Two from each province, Milord,” Therron replied at once. “Their numbers will likely be low as we have been at peace for so long. I will see to new training and to a few new officers for their officer corps. Experienced officers. When the time comes,” he added, “it may be that you will need to inform the Provincial Governors that the Militia will be commanded in the field by others, whilst their own commanders remain at home.”

  “That will not go over well,” Memmnon pointed out.

  “Tell them,” Parno suggested, “that their command staffs will be needed to rebuild the Militia’s taken into Crown Service and that you would not want to entrust such a job to anyone other than the men who had raised the Militia you were now depending on to bolster our defense against invasion. That there is no one else better for the job.”

  “Not bad, for a rogue,” Tammon smiled, the twinkle in his eyes removing any sting from his words.

  “Thank you, I think, My King,” Parno smiled in reply, and was rewarded with the first laugh he could ever remember hearing from his father.

  “Let’s be about it, then,” Tammon ordered. “We haven’t much time.”

  *****

  “Are we all in agreement, then?” Tammon McLeod looked around him. For three days the King, his sons…all of his sons…and his top generals and advisers had poured over maps and reports. All of the men Tammon had
called in on the problem had looked at the information that Parno had accrued and eyed the young Prince with renewed interest, almost respect. Parno returned their nods impassively. He knew better than to allow their acknowledgment to convince him he was now in favor with anyone.

  The decisions made were hard, Parno conceded. Soulan’s army was divided into five Army Corps. The base for each Corps was two infantry divisions and one cavalry. In most cases the infantry were mounted, riding to the battlefield, but then dismounting to fight on foot. The 2nd Corps, based in Loville, would likely bear the brunt of any Nor attack, thanks to the three bridges there spanning the Ohi River. Right now those bridges were part of the new spirit of cooperation, carrying goods back and forth in trade agreements made by the Norland Ambassador.