Parno's Destiny: The Black Sheep of Soulan: Book Two

by N. C. Reed

  “I do, milady,” he bowed slightly. “I shall place it in his hands myself.”

  “Good,” Sherron nodded firmly. “The seal should eliminate any interference as well as prevent others from hindering your way. Have you any questions?”

  “No, milady.”

  “Then go and let nothing stop you!”

  The man mounted the horse behind him, one of the best in the Royal Stables, and was soon galloping away at a good clip. Not so fast as to arouse suspicion but fast enough to carry him out of the city quickly.

  Sherron watched until the man was gone, then departed. She had other preparations to see to.

  She had worked too hard for too long to see her dream cast aside so casually. She would find her brother and return him to his rightful place. Therron would be King of Soulan, she promised herself.

  And she would be his Queen.

  *****

  Even as Sherron's rider was departing, another was entering the Royal City, his horse exhausted as he himself nearly was. Around his shoulder was the strap of a courier bag. His horse carried nothing else. The courier dropped to his feet, nearly stumbling before the Sergeant of the Guard caught him.

  “Thanks,” the man mumbled. “I've an urgent dispatch meant for Marshal Parno,” he told the sergeant. “I need to have it relayed on to him at once.”

  “No need,” the sergeant told him. “Lord Parno is here in Nasil, has been since last evening. Come on, I'll get you to him.”

  The courier straightened, following the sergeant on legs that didn't really want to carry him. His mission was almost completed, however. Soon he could rest.

  “Please take care o' my horse,” he asked the guards behind.

  “We'll see to him,” one promised, already leading the weary animal away. “No worries.”

  *****

  “My Lords, there is a courier here with an urgent dispatch for Lord Marshal Parno.”

  The two brothers had barely finished their discussion of Sherron's mental illness and consideration of what she might be able to accomplish. Both looked up at the steward's interruption.

  “Show him in,” Memmnon ordered at once. Parno stood, taking the bag from the exhausted man at once.

  “What can you tell me?” he asked.

  “Dispatch from the Fleet, milord,” the man said tiredly. “Sent by courier from the fleet while they was still engaged. Like as not be a full report behind me somewhere, but this, whatever it is, was deemed urgent enough to send alone.”

  “Very well,” Parno nodded, opening the bag. “Get him something to eat, a chance to clean up and a comfortable place to sleep. He's excused duty for the next thirty-six hours.”

  “Thank you milords,” the man bowed as the Steward all but drug him from the office. Parno ignored it, opening the single note inside and reading quickly.

  “Message relayed by flag from Semmes, repeated by all ships in view,” he read aloud. “Enemy troopships empty. Repeat, enemy troopships are empty. Fleet still heavily engaged. Message ends.” Parno lowered the letter, passing it along to Memmnon with a sigh of relief.

  “There is no invasion force,” he said at last. “Please excuse me, brother. I have messages of my own to send.”

  *****

  “Three messages to each man, understand?” Parno ordered. Sprigs nodded as he finished writing the orders for the two southern corps of the Army.

  “Aye, milord. They'll be on their way shortly,” the secretary promised. “Best horses available.”

  “Good. Nothing is to stop them.”

  Sprigs nodded again as he ran to secure horses and couriers for his Lord Marshal's message. Parno turned to find Cho Feng standing behind him.

  “Master Feng.”

  “My Lord,” Feng nodded in reply.

  “What is it?” Parno sighed, resisting the urge to shake his head.

  “What do you mean?”

  “You only call me 'My Lord' these days when you think I'm making a mistake.”

  “Not so, Parno,” Feng shook his head. “You are the Lord Marshal. It is appropriate to address you as such.”

  Parno eyed the small oriental with suspicion for a moment, as if waiting for the punch line. When Feng's facial expression did not change, he accepted it and went on.

  “We may ride for Cove in the morning,” he said. “We'll see to Master Finn first of all. Perhaps he will have good news for us. Perhaps very good, even.”

  “That is possible,” Feng nodded. “If he has been successful then his work may well be that which we need to turn the tide.”

  “That and two new corps from the south,” Parno nodded, walking back toward the palace. “With them, I can return Raines' men to him and still have sufficient forces to handle what's before Davies. Especially with anything that Roda has managed to put together.”

  “Then what is it that bothers you, young Prince?” Feng asked.

  “There are many things that bother me,” Parno answered evasively.

  “Yet there is perhaps one thing that bothers you most?”

  “No, they pretty much bother me in equal measure,” Parno admitted with a heavy sigh. “I'm taking a great risk in bringing the others north. Especially not having heard yet from Semmes about the aftermath of the battle. Then there is still the risk that the enemy across the bridge at Shelby will actually mount an attack while I have the bulk of our army gathered north. There is also the possibility that our attack against the northern force will not succeed, leaving us at best in a bloody stalemate, and at worst completely defeated.”

  “Assuming we are victorious there, and can drive the Imperial Army out of our lands, then there remains the prospect of their western army invading to take the pressure off their retreating northern force. Add to that my plan to strike north at some point in the future. And, finally,” he paused, drawing a deep breath and looking around him. Feng waited.

  “Finally,” Parno continued after a moment, “there is my brother, Therron, and his twin, our sister Sherron.” He looked at Feng.

  “My sister is quite probably mad. Therron may be as well. He is certainly convinced of his superiority to the rest of us. Certain of his right, not to mention his fitness, to rule. My father's decision to banish him may backfire, Master Feng. I only hope it does not cost us dearly.”

  “This isn't your responsibility, Parno,” Feng reminded him softly.

  “No, but someone will have to pick up the pieces and you can bet I'll wind up being that someone.”

  *****

  “I cannot possibly allow both of you in here at the same time.”

  Roda Finn was standing in front of his Foundry, thin arms folded across his chest. Memmnon and Parno, flanked by their retainers, stood in front of him, their way inside blocked.

  “We merely wish to see your works Master Finn,” Memmnon said reasonably. “No one expects you to be ready for some kind of inspection, I assure you.”

  “I am not concerned with inspections,” Finn rolled his eyes. “Lord Parno, you know how volatile my creations are. Allowing the both of you inside where a catastrophe could occur at literally any minute is tantamount to treason!”

  The brothers exchanged a glance, Parno looking chagrined at the reminder.

  “He's right, Memmnon,” Parno nodded. “I should have thought of it myself. It would be very irresponsible for the two of us to be here at the same time.”

  “It is that dangerous?” Memmnon asked, clearly skeptical.

  “Very much so,” Parno nodded. “You should return home, brother. I'm sure that Master Finn will be glad to entertain you at another time. Perhaps arrange your visit for a time when the Foundry is inactive?” he added with a glance at Finn.

  “That would be for the best,” Finn acknowledged. “And I would be happy to do so at the first opportunity.”

  “Very well,” Memmnon sighed. “I still do not see why all this is necessary,” he added.

  “I will prepare a demonstration for you when you visit, milord,” Finn pro
mised. “When you see it, you will know that our caution was deserved.”

  Memmnon departed, his guard surrounding him as he traveled back to the palace. Parno turned again to face his 'wizard'.

  “Please tell me you have some good news, Roda?”

  *****

  “We already have several thousand of the Hubel Arrows either finished or laid out for completion,” Finn pointed to a small assembly line as he escorted Parno and his retinue through his small kingdom. “As soon as we have a sufficiency for battle we can begin sending them north.”

  “Keep stockpiling them for now,” Parno ordered. “I'll send someone to secure a holding facility between here and the army where they can be stockpiled. What about other. . .ordnance, wasn't it?”

  “Yes, milord,” Finn was noticeably pleased at Parno's recollection of the term. “We have begun casting the rounds for our catapults and trebuchets, and our laboratory is producing the solution that makes them explode. Small amounts for now, similar to what we were able to accomplish at Cove, but we are increasing production every day. We will begin seeing substantial quantities in another fortnight or so. We will repeat our transportation method from Cove and ship the rounds and the solution separately. For safety.”

  “I assume you're training crews to safely assemble the components once they reach the front?” Parno asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “You may safely make that assumption,” Finn nodded. “Also were are working with a team of veterans from the battle at the Gap who are not yet well enough to return to full duty. They in turn are training men to safely handle the ordnance and employ it in battle. We do not have as much time as we did at Cove, but we know more than we did then so it balances out.”

  “We hope,” Parno snorted.

  “Fervently,” Finn replied. “I believe we should have enough ready ordnance for a protracted battle within a month, though it will take another ten days or so to get everything safely in place. Your acquiring a safe staging area might cut down on that time considerably, however. We would be replacing spent ordnance as you used it, keeping the supply up as high as possible.”

  “I will not be ready to act for at least a month,” Parno admitted. “It would be well to have some of your gadgets on hand in the event of a full-fledged attack on our northern positions, or the western emplacements at Shelby for that matter, but I'm doing all I can to buy time for that to happen.”

  “We will not let you down, milord,” Finn promised. He almost said something else, but withheld it at the last second, not wanting to promise something he might not be able to deliver.

  “You've done well, Roda,” Parno said quietly as the tour ended. “I'm in your debt.”

  “Hardly, milord,” the fussy little man waved the comment away. “I am in yours. And Soulan is my home as well.”

  *****

  “It appears that things are going well,” Feng remarked as they returned to Nasil proper.

  “Looks that way,” Parno agreed with an absent nod.

  “If we can make another month, or better another six weeks, we'll have a marked advantage,” Karls said.

  “We'll have the start of an advantage,” Parno corrected.

  “Agreed,” Enri nodded. “It's fine to think of our advances as helpful, but we cannot expect the enemy to do things as we want. No plan survives contact with the enemy.” He sounded like a lecturer at the War College.

  “So it doesn't,” Parno nodded. “Until Soulan soil is free of Imperial presence, we'll assume only that we're losing. If we're preparing for the worst, expecting the worst, then we won't be surprised when it happens.”

  “Well said.”

  *****

  “I've sent two men north to secure a forward staging area for Roda's gadgetry,” Parno informed his brother that evening. “He's beginning to build up an inventory so I want it out and gone as he does. It will also make resupply easier to have a forward supply area. Not to mention making Nasil safer by not having so many of his. . .creations, in the city,” he added.

  “I still find it difficult to credit all these precautions,” Memmnon looked skeptical.

  “Once you see the demonstrations, you won't,” Parno promised. “His work can literally change the course of the war. Change how we fight in the future for that matter. You should send for him sometime when he is not busy and allow him to speak to you of what he has discovered. He cannot reproduce even a tithing of it, but even that tithing is. . .substantial.”

  “Very well,” Memmnon nodded. “You are off tomorrow?” he changed the subject.

  “I am,” Parno nodded. “We're heading to Cove for a few days, then back to 1st Army headquarters. I'm expecting it to take at least a month, perhaps as much as six weeks for 4th and 5th Corps to make it there. I've ordered each man to detach his absolute best militia units to remain in the area, patrolling and garrisoning vital outposts. I won't leave the area completely uncovered.”

  “Good,” Memmnon nodded. “Father would like to see you before you go,” he changed the subject again and Parno stiffened. Despite a reasonably good relationship with his eldest brother, Parno was not of a forgiving nature. He held both of them at least partly responsible for what had happened to Darvo Nidiad. And he still blamed Memmnon for not supporting him when Therron had lied to the King about him and his troopers.

  “What does he want?” Parno tried to keep his voice neutral.

  “He wants to visit with his son,” Memmnon said evenly, careful to maintain eye contact with his younger brother. “He is not well,” Memmnon added with a slight shrug.

  “I know this,” Parno nodded curtly. “Does he think to make up for a lifetime of maltreatment now that he might be dying? Do you, for that matter?” he challenged suddenly. Memmnon's face reddened slightly but he accepted the barb as a fair shot.

  “I can never make up what I've done and said to you,” he told Parno flatly. “I will not insult you with the effort. All I can do is treat you better now, and try to build a better relationship with you as adults than I bothered with as children. I can do no more. Nor can I ever undo the damage I have done prior. One must accept his limitations and work with what he has.”

  “You're telling me that he actually desires my company?” Parno's expression couldn't have been more bewildered if Memmnon had suddenly told him that he would have to assume the crown himself.

  “Yes, he does,” Memmnon said, nodding. “If you can spare it.”

  “Well, since he always had time for me,” Parno's sarcasm was thick, “I suppose the least I can do is return that favor, isn't it?”

  *****

  Parno entered his father's apartments after the evening meal, actually surprised that his father had not dined with them. When he thought about it, he realized that Tammon McLeod had been absent completely from all meetings, most unlike him.

  “Prince McLeod,” Physician Smithe's voice preceded him out of the dim light of the King's apartments. His tone was not one of welcome.

  “Doctor,” Parno nodded. He was long passed being intimidated by anyone. Even Stephanie's old and cantankerous uncle.

  “The King simply cannot entertain you this evening I'm afraid,” Smithe's voice was adamant. “He must rest.”

  “Well, that's a problem then because he sent for me,” Parno replied evenly.

  “I'm sure he did,” Smithe didn't bother to hide his disdain.

  “I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot, Doctor,” Parno said gently. “I no longer bow and scrape to you and the others of this household. Nor will I ever do so again. So long as he lived, Darvo Nidiad did his utmost to keep me in check and prevent me from retaliating against those whose maltreatment demanded that I seek satisfaction for it.” Parno paused for a moment to make sure he had Smithe's attention.

  “You may recall that Darvo is no longer with us.”

  “Are you threatening me, Prince?” Smithe demanded.

  “Yes, I am,” Parno replied simply. “I couldn't care less about your opinion
of me, Doctor, as I will like as not die before this war is over, so please spare me your whining as I simply do not have the time for it. Now, kindly step aside. I have no real desire to be here, but my father has asked for me and I leave with the rising of the sun tomorrow.”

  Smithe's mouth opened but despite motion from his lips no sound emerged. He clearly had expected the somewhat browbeaten Prince he had come to know as the King's Physician, not the man who stood before him now as Lord Marshal of the Royal Army.

  “I won't ask again, Doctor,” Parno kept his voice even but his eyes clearly dared Smithe to continue to challenge his right to be here. Wisely, Smithe decided not to push the issue and stepped aside. Parno walked by him without another word and entered his father's bedchamber. The sight that awaited him there shocked him.

  Tammon McLeod was pale and drawn as he lay upon his bed. Despite that his eyes were clear as he saw Parno immediately and motioned for him to approach.

  “Hello, my son,” Tammon managed a weak smile. “It is good to see you.”

  “Hello, father,” Parno managed to sound warm, having no wish to upset his obviously sick father. “Doctor Smithe tells me you are feeling poorly this evening,” he settled for saying as he sat carefully on the side of his father's large bed.

  “Yes, well, he needs me to feel poorly so he can keep a job I suppose,” Tammon shot back and Parno grinned in spite of himself. “How goes it, my son?” he asked, more serious.

  “We are holding our own for the moment,” Parno promised him. “We've had a bit of good news today, two bits actually, with hopefully more to follow.” He briefly explained the news from Semmes and from Finn, as well as his orders to bring the two southern corps northward.

  “Semmes is from a good family,” Tammon nodded at the report from the Admiral. “Been sailors all the way back to Tyree as I recall. I knew his father, years ago. Good man, good family.”

  “He seems to have done well,” Parno nodded. “I have promoted General Davies and given him command of the newly formed 1st Army. His own command and 1st Corps. I did the same with Raines in Shelby, though he will have to settle for his own Corps and attachments as 2nd Army. I may form 3rd Army with the two southern corps when they arrive. I haven't decided yet.”