He entered the training yard to the sound of metal striking metal. Immediately, the prince noticed change. The familiar training stations had been removed and a small battlefield stood in their place. Barricades and obstructions were strewn randomly across the yard. Men in militia clothing brandished wooden swords and manned positions to the East. Recruits in green uniforms, similarly armed, lined positions to the West. Brelg stood in the middle of the yard barking orders.
“When you are struck with a fatal blow, remove yourself.” shouted Brelg. “Any heavy weapon blow to the head or chest that does not strike armor is fatal.”
The old sergeant pointed to the areas on his own body then turned and pointed to the rooftop.
“It may seem as if the archers possess an advantage.” called Brelg. “That is because archers do possess an advantage. Often they hold higher ground and are unreachable.”
Manfir glanced to the Southern rooftop and saw a dozen archers in green uniforms. The prince turned and craned his neck to get view of the Northern rooftop above him. An equal number of militia sported longbow on this side of the yard. The tips of the arrows in their quivers looked blocky and dull.
“Any man who takes an arrow tip to any exposed spot on his upper body will immediately leave the training area!” shouted Brelg. “Success is the complete destruction of your opponents forces! Begin!”
Brelg turned and marched toward Manfir. Shouts arose as the commanders of the small units ordered their men into position. A few arrows clattered off the barricades hiding men. Brelg halted in front of the prince and bowed deeply.
“Brelg, there’s no call for that.” said Manfir.
“I beg your pardon, my prince, but there is always a call.” stated Brelg soberly. “When you were a member of my unit, I expected you to salute me and obey my orders. Only one man can lead. All others must follow. Without rank an army disintegrates into chaos. “
“As always.” smiled Manfir. “You’re right.”
Brelg returned the smile.
“How goes the training?” asked Manfir putting a hand on Brelg’s shoulder.
“Excellent!” replied Brelg.
As if to highlight the point a cry went up from the recruits positioned to the West. A handful of green garbed men circumvented a large overturned cart and raced toward the militias line. They were met with a hail of arrows from both the rooftop and a row of hay bales to the East. The recruits huddled together. Those in the lead held their shields in front of them while their comrades in back held theirs aloft.
A few recruits removed themselves from the group as arrows bounced from leather jerkins, but the bulk of the party reached the militias hiding spot and a small skirmish ensued. As soon as the militia showed themselves, arrows pelted both groups. Several more participants from both sides of the line removed themselves from the battle.
“Good.” smiled Brelg as he saw the recruits turn and run. “Flair doesn’t commit completely. He tests their line for strength.”
“Flair?” questioned Manfir.
“Yes.” said Brelg. “I’ve kept his unit at the Hold and I use them quite frequently in these training exercises. He’s developing into quite a tactician.”
“How so?” asked a puzzled Manfir. “He trains in use of weapons, doesn’t he?”
Brelg beamed.
“No sire, he does not. He trains at so much more now.” said Brelg. “The old training methods are gone. In the past we could only hope to produce a man proficient in the use of specific weaponry and a decent shot with a bow. We were never given the ability to train a man in tactics and reactions. So much has changed!”
Brelg led Manfir closer to the yard.
“What I’ve tried to do here is mimic a small battle scenario.” said Brelg, sweeping his hand across the yard. “By changing the sizes of the forces at play and the terrain from which they fight, I’ve challenged our young leaders to think their way through training. Teach a man to attack and defend with a pike and you may save his life when he stands toe to toe with an enemy. However, what if he and a half dozen of his comrades are overwhelmed by superior forces? How do I teach a man what to think and how to react in that circumstance? How do I prevent that man from panic? How do I get into his head and make him realize there is an answer to every dilemma?
Flair’s current puzzle involves a lopsided battle. I gave Flair a significantly smaller recruit force than his militia counterpart. His solution thus far has been caution. He sends small squads to probe their defenses and determine weakness.”
A cry went out from the rooftop. The militia’s archers were surrounded by a small group of heavily armed recruits. Manfir turned and noted the recruit archers continuing to fire upon the militia’s position.
“That isn’t right.” complained a militia man already removed from the exercise. “The archers were off limits. Corporal Flair is cheatin’!”
Manfir turned to Brelg.
“Is he correct?” asked the prince. “Is Flair cheating?”
A group of recruits rushed from a hallway directly behind the militia’s position. The militiamen were completely surprised and overwhelmed. The battle was over.
“This is outrageous!” blustered a mustachioed militia captain as he marched across the yard toward Brelg. “That young brigand disobeys direct orders and makes a mockery of the training session!”
The militiaman came to an abrupt halt as he noticed the insignia upon Manfir’s cloak.
“I beg your pardon your majesty.” continued the man. “I didn’t see you there.”
“Not at all, captain....?” prompted Manfir.
“Uson, your highness.”
“Not at all, Captain Uson.” continued Manfir. “You were saying...”
Uson turned and glared at Flair as the young man and several comrades strode past the obstacles in the yard toward the discussion.
“This ... this... corporal, has seen fit to waste a day of hard training by my men.” snapped Uson. “We’ve spent the morn before sun up erecting this battlefield, and its first use has been compromised by his disregard for orders.”
Manfir turned to Brelg.
“Sergeant Brelg?”
“Yes sire.”
“Did you order the participants to remain within the confines of the training yard?” asked Manfir.
Brelg smiled.
“No sir, I did not.” came the reply.
“But your highness ...” said Uson.
“A moment please, good man Uson.” interrupted Manfir. “Sergeant Brelg, were the rooftop archers deemed ‘off limits’ from participating in the exercise?”
Once again Brelg broke into a wide smile.
“No sir, they were not.” answered Brelg.
“Sire.” pleaded Uson as Flair stepped before the prince and saluted. “Clearly the intent of the drill sergeant was to mimic a battle within the confines of the yard.”
Manfir arched an eyebrow and once more eyed Brelg. Flair allowed the hint of a smile to creep around the edges of his mouth.
“Sergeant Brelg?”
“Yes sir.”
“Was your intent to confine the battle to the yard and remove the archers from participation?” questioned Manfir beginning to grin.
“That was my intent, sir.” stated Brelg smiling.
“Did you communicate this intent at all?” asked Manfir with mischief in his eyes.
“No sir, I did not.” said Brelg.
Manfir spun back to Uson with a broad smile across his face and a question in his eye.
“Uh ..” mumbled Uson glancing to the ground.
“Yes?” said Manfir. “Go on.”
“I am at a loss.” mumbled Uson. “The boy usurped the rules.”
The smile drained from Manfir’s face as he confronted the captain.
“Captain!” barked Manfir. “Do you own a set of rules you would like us to forward to the Malveel for the day you face their Ulrog Hackles in battle?!”
Uson’s face fell and the captain star
ed at the ground.
“No sire.” replied the captain meekly.
The remaining militiamen and recruits in the yard gathered around and Manfir turned to face them.
“All of you take heed!” commanded Manfir. “This exercise did not follow the direction Sergeant Brelg wished, but it illustrates an excellent point. There are no rules in war! Especially a war with the Ulrog. The goal is to win, at all costs! What Corporal Flair did here today was to take advantage of all opportunities open to him. He did not confine himself to the rigid framework of what was expected, what should be done. He explored the possibilities and decided what could be done!”
Manfir turned back to the captain.
“Captain Uson, instead of decrying Flair's tactics you should be thankful he taught you a lesson here today.” said Manfir. “You must throw away your old notions of soldiering and embrace a bold new concept. We will be heavily out manned and undersupplied out there. What Flair has done is try to conceive of any means by which we can find an advantage. Follow his lead and your men will one day praise you for saving their lives.
Had this been a real battle with Ulrog or Keltaran, one that did not follow your rules, you and your men would be dead. Learn a lesson now, and perhaps you will survive a similar encounter in the field of battle.”
Uson nodded and bowed to Flair.
“Corporal, I congratulate you on your win.” said Uson. “My men and I wish to challenge you to a rematch.”
“I accept.” replied Flair.
“However, “ interrupted Brelg. “I officially declare a restriction to this exercise. The northern stairwells and balconies are open to the battle. No other balconies or hallways from the ground floor up may be accessed.”
“Agreed.” announced Uson.
“Agreed.” echoed Flair.
“Excellent.” said Brelg. “Return to your stations.”
Uson spun toward his men with a hungry look in his eye.
“Same formation!” he commanded. “Squad two get up to the rooftop and guard the stairwells. Protect your archers for they are your eyes from above!”
The militia captain strode purposefully toward his command post as Flair turned to go. Brelg moved into the yard to observe the exercise.
“Flair.” called Manfir.
The young man turned and approached the prince. Manfir extended an arm and the two shook hands vigorously.
“You saved my life once.” said Manfir. “Now it seems you are helping save my army.”
“It’s your command that fires the pride of the militia.” stated Flair. “Besides, I’m having a grand time.”
Manfir glanced toward Uson as the militia captain shouted orders to his troops.
“Be wary of the captain this time.” counseled Manfir. “Uson will not be fooled a second time. You’re heavily outnumbered and Brelg removed your advantage. “
Flair arched an eyebrow.
“Sergeant Brelg removed my first option.” smiled Flair. “My men may not use the hallways or balconies from the first level up, but the underground stables were not mentioned. I believe they run beneath the surface of the yard for the entire length of the Hold.”
“You bend the rules.” frowned Manfir.
“I take offense, my lord. I’m simply remaining within the parameters set for the exercise.” grinned Flair. “Can I help it if I possess a knack for exploiting those rules to their fullest potential?!”
The pair shared a warm laugh and Manfir clapped the boy on the shoulder.
“Off you go then. Give them something to think about.”
Flair smiled and ran toward his men shouting orders. Manfir retreated from the yard to the offices of the General Staff where he perused detailed records of troop and supply totals. Many in his entourage had been given assignments, and the office buzzed with activity. Within the hour, Brelg entered and saluted to Manfir. Manfir looked up from his reports and smiled. The prince stood and motioned the old sergeant to follow him. Manfir led Brelg through the halls as he checked into store rooms and barracks.
“Did Flair’s foray through the stables succeed?” asked Manfir smiling.
“Yes, in the end.” stated Brelg. “However, Uson is no fool. He expected something. He held a troop in reserve to counter any surprise Flair threw at him. Had Flair’s maneuver through the stables been his only tactic, Uson would have eliminated all the recruits. But Flair is nothing if not prepared.”
“How so?” asked Manfir as he continued his inspection of the Hold.
“When Uson discovered the attack from beneath his own position, he also recognized a fault in Flair’s strategy. The boy bottlenecked all of his infantry troops in the stairwell to the stables. Uson moved most of his troops into the bottleneck to counter the attack. The captain left a few men along the barricade to protect his front-line. Uson was confident his superior numbers would be victorious in a pitched battle in the stairwell.
That is when Flair's archers discarded their bows, drew sabers and rappelled from the rooftop. They overran Uson’s weak front-line and closed on the stairwell. The militia was shocked to find themselves squeezed between double the number of foot soldiers than they believed the recruits supported. They quickly surrendered.”
Manfir laughed.
“I’m sure Uson was extremely distressed by this second and third breach of his precious rules.” stated Manfir.
“Actually, no.” shrugged Brelg. “The captain once again congratulated Flair on a very clever manipulation of his circumstances. I do believe the old warhorse is beginning to understand what we are trying to do here.”
“Excellent.” said Manfir. “What of the other militia forces? How does their training go?”
“They’re making progress as well.” replied Brelg. “Nearly a thousand men bivouacked a league South of the city and each of the other drill sergeants command one hundred men. Each sergeant is utilizing the same instruction format as I. I’m unsure of the results, but I’m sure the instructors are doing their utmost to get the men ready.”
The prince halted and threw a door open. Ten men crammed into the small dimly lit space jumped to attention when they realized who stood in the doorway. Most of the men were crowded around a small table covered in playing cards.
“Relax men.” stated Manfir confidently entering the room. “By all means get back to your game.”
“Thank you, sir.” said an older man and he sat at the table.
“Are you receiving enough to eat?” asked Manfir.
“We aren’t complaining, sire.” smiled a young man on the far side of the room.
“What of the bunks?” inquired Manfir. “Is every man taken care of?”
The room remained silent and several men glanced sidelong at one another. Finally, the older man spoke up.
“Begging your pardon, sire.” said the man hesitantly. “I appreciate the roof over me head an all, but I’d much prefer being in the camp to the South and takin’ my chances with the weather, than being stuffed in this room with these lads.”
“Some of us is sharin’ our bedding, sire.” chimed in the young man.
Manfir stepped further into the cramped room and wrinkled his nose at the smell.
“You lads may have discovered a new weapon in the fight against the Ulrog.” smiled Manfir.
The room broke into a hearty laugh and members of the group slapped one another on the back.
“You sir.” said Manfir pointing to the older man in front. “What is your name?”
“Osly, sire.” replied the man standing.
“Do you hold rank in the militia Master Osly?”
Osly blinked in surprise.
“Me, lord?” questioned Osly jamming a thumb into the middle of his chest and shaking his head. “No.”
“Well, you do now.” stated Manfir turning to the rest of the group. “All of you remember one thing. It’s a soldiers duty not only to fight, but to think as well. To blindly follow is to entrust too much power in the hands of too few. If you
are confronted with an alternative that makes sense, speak up.”
Manfir stepped toward the table and the men jumped from his path. The prince produced a sheet of parchment and a small ink well from his tunic. He smoothed the parchment on the table and flipped the lid of the inkwell open.
“Corporal Osly. You will gather up this group of men and two dozen more from the adjoining rooms.” said Manfir as he produced a stylus and started to write. “You will present these orders to the Head Mistress of the serving staff at the palace. There’s a small wing and tower there that have been vacant for many years. The tower has many rooms and antechambers and should comfortably accommodate thirty men. You will report back to your commander, Sergeant Brelg, each and every morning for additional training.”
A murmur ran through the room as every man looked wide eyed at Osly.
“Yes sir!” exclaimed Osly.
Manfir finished writing and grabbed the small candle illuminating the table. He turned it on edge and dripped its sallow yellow wax onto the bottom of the parchment page.
“Your first duty is to get these men cleaned up.” stated Manfir looking hard at Osly. “You are Guardsmen now, you’ll begin to act as such. Each morning when you march to the Hold you will be representing me and the crown of Zodra. You will be properly attired and travel in a tight military formation, no stragglers. Do you understand corporal?”
“Yes sir!” exclaimed Osly beaming.
“Soldiering isn’t just fighting.” stated Manfir. “It’s a way of life. It begins with a proper demeanor and attitude about yourself. Before you leave I want this entire unit in uniform. Since we can’t supply you with Guardsmen uniforms you will be issued the colors of the recruits. They carry as much weight as those of a full fledged Guardsman.”
“Corporal....?” said Manfir turning to the young man across the room.
The young man’s eyes widened and he put a hand to his chest.
“Wint, sire.” stated the boy.
“Osly needs a second and you’ve volunteered.” said Manfir. “You’ll get down to the supply room and get these men outfitted properly. Understood?”
The Pool And The Pedestal (Book 2) Page 18
