by Damien Lake
“Messenger Fredrick, this is my chief mage, Tollaf. I asked him here as I expect we will be discussing specific matters of our fighters.”
Fredrick drew himself straighter, which mildly intrigued Torrance as he would not have thought it possible. “I am a courier, not a messenger!”
“My apologies. Won’t you both have a seat.”
Five simple chairs were arranged before the desk. Fredrick took the center directly opposite Torrance while Tollaf claimed one on the edge, leaving an empty chair between them.
“One other is on the way to join us, so let us postpone the discussion until he arrives. Would either of you care for brandy?”
Tollaf nodded while Fredrick took on airs. “It is far too early in the day for me.”
“Suit yourself,” Tollaf grunted while he leaned forward to take the proffered glass. After deeply sniffing the bouquet, he sighed and leaned back. He raised an eyebrow at Torrance, who shook his head slightly.
“How did you know I wished to discuss your troops?”
Torrance allowed derision over the question’s foolishness to flash across his face before responding with a question of his own. “What else would a direct emissary from the king wish to discuss with the commander of the Crimson Kings? For that matter, what does anyone who comes through those gates wish to discuss with us? Their need for men and fighters, of course. That is the business we are in.”
Fredrick felt the contempt. He chose to keep his mouth shut until Tollaf decided the silence wafted too thick and asked about the courier’s journey. The courier recited his history for the past three eightdays; traveling southeast from Thoenar, stopping at every major holding to ensure that the muster proceeded apace, delivering new orders to the lords before coming to Kingshome.
“How far behind the orders to muster were you?” Tollaf asked.
“The couriers with those orders rode an eightday ahead of me.”
“So the orders went out almost four eightdays past? That was over a month ago! Why didn’t we know of this?”
“Because,” Torrance supplied, “as the good courier here stated before you entered, the orders were sent out to the lords owing tributes of men to the crown.”
“I’m sure it was an error, Commander Torrance. An oversight by some minor clerk assigned to compile the lists.”
“It doesn’t matter. The Kings are always ready to march.”
The door opened with Janus’ arrival. He looked sour as ever, it pleased Torrance to see. Fredrick would have a real dustup if he provoked the head clerk.
Janus accepted his brandy glass before claiming the opposite edge chair in the row. If Fredrick noticed, he disregarded the unspoken sentiment.
“Since you have received no word of the muster, I must tell you of it myself. All those owing tribute in times of war must have their men at the staging ground by the first day of the second spring month. Once there, you will report to the king’s seneschal for duty assignment.”
The three men waited for further details, but the courier seemed to believe he had said all that needed to be said. After a pregnant silence lasting several moments, Torrance stated the obvious.
“Courier Fredrick, perhaps you should spend a few moments informing me exactly why the muster call was issued.”
Surprise rippled through Fredrick, as if any village idiot should have known the answer. Torrance already did but he wished to hear how the man responded.
“For the defense of the kingdom, of course! Everyone knows that.”
“Everyone who was on the courier list you mean,” snapped Tollaf. “Don’t forget this is an enclosed encampment and news travels slow in the winter season.”
The courier leaned away from Tollaf’s venomous statement. “Forces from Nolier crossed the border at the start of winter and seized land not rightfully theirs. We go to take it back in the name of the king.”
“And for this you need to rouse the whole kingdom?” Janus sounded scornful.
“It is not for you to criticize the decisions of the crown! The call to muster has been sent, and you are honor bound to obey!”
“Have I said we would not obey the agreement to the letter?” asked Torrance.
“Then what of those deserters my men and I came across? It is lucky for you I ordered them back in the king’s name or your tally would have come up short under the seneschal’s count.”
Now Torrance, and indeed the other two, were truly astounded. Fredrick sat stiff as a board yet smug at the same time, as if he expected thanks or praise.
“What,” asked Torrance carefully, “deserters would those be exactly, Courier Fredrick?”
“That force of men I encountered fleeing westward. They claim to have been traveling on legitimate business, but had they been heading to the staging ground they would have been traveling north.”
“Those ‘deserters’, as you refer to them, were hired for contracts some months ago. By delaying their time schedule, you have interfered with the date by which they were promised to arrive.”
“It is of no concern.” Fredrick dismissed airily. “Were they traveling on such an inconsequential matter, they would have needed to return in any case to fill out your tally.”
“What tally?” shouted Janus. “What ever gave you the idea that we have to provide for half the king’s blasted army?”
“The agreement states—”
“It states we must provide men for the call of the king! I know it better than you do, you illiterate, so don’t preach to me! I’ve been examining it for the last two eightdays!”
“What?”
“Ever since the commander asked me to in case some fool like you showed up.”
Fredrick jumped up to his feet. “You did know about the muster already! You have lied to me! An emissary of the king!”
“Oh, sit down, young man—” began Tollaf but Fredrick’s continuing rant overrode him.
“And those men! You were sending them away with the knowledge you were breaking faith with the crown of Galemar!”
“SIT DOWN!” thundered Torrance, suddenly out of patience. This fool had depleted it much sooner than he would have given him credit for. He pierced the self-important courier with his gaze as the last echo died in their ears. Incredibly, the irritating fool retook his seat rather than retaliate in a pompous declaration of his own importance. Perhaps it had to do with the tone of command Torrance still retained from his days as the Sixteenth’s lieutenant.
“Now,” continued Torrance in a softer voice, though his words were laced with steel, “you will listen. Of course I knew of Nolier’s actions in seizing land beyond their border. I’d be a piss poor commander if I didn’t. I was telling the truth about not receiving specific word of the muster, but I could guess by knowing what I know and seeing how the lords around me have been acting.
“As for the matter of my men, I will overlook your transgression this one time, but know this. No one issues orders to an officer of my band but me. Especially not a person like you.”
Fredrick risked speech, his face reddening above his collar while he fumed. “If you guessed at the likelihood of a call to muster, then you have broken the agreement by sending your men elsewhere.”
“No we haven’t,” countered Janus. “Those contracts were signed before we received word of anything Nolier was up to. Since then, the commander has been…discriminating…about the contracts we accepted to leave as many men free over and above the tribute in case you wanted to hire on extras.”
“Hire? What are you talking about? You owe the king these men of yours. No recompense is required!”
“Wrong again, boy.” Janus enjoyed pricking the man. “If you’d care to look at the exact wording of the agreement, I’m sure the commander has a copy close at hand. But let me save you the trouble and tell you the second commander of the Crimson Kings agreed with the crown to heed the call to arms as any of the king’s lords would. As even you might possibly know, the lords with smaller holdings owe a set amount w
hile the nobles with larger populations owe one man for every twenty under their rule.”
Torrance stepped in. “You seem to have come here with the notion of conscripting every man in the band to your banner. The reality of this situation is that, at best, we would owe the king no more than eighty men if the band was full up to the rafters. The band is never that full though, and so we only owe seventy-five at the most.”
“You can’t dictate terms to the king!”
“I’m doing nothing of the kind, Courier Fredrick. I don’t know who gave you the idea we were bound to leap in with both feet, but any magistrate will support me after examining the agreement themselves. And in case you think I’ve doctored our copy, I’ll have you know there are copies stored with the king’s scribes which state the exact same clauses.”
“But…” Fredrick was flustered, at a loss to respond.
“As Head Clerk Janus stated however, I’m not one to leave my kingdom in a pinch and turn my back. Seventy-five men would be something like three-and-a-half units. We try hard to avoid breaking up a unit, so I’ll be magnanimous and send an entire squad to answer the call to muster in the name of the Crimson Kings. Not counting the squads already committed to previous contracts, that leaves ten entire squads available for hire. Seeing as it is the king after all, we’d even be willing to work at a discount off the normal fee.”
“Excluding provisions costs of course, and incidental expenses that will still be fully required under contract,” added Janus.
“I can’t…I mean, there’s no way I can agree to any of this! It would take me a month to make a round trip to Thoenar using the courier’s route!”
“I am aware of that. That’s another reason I’ve asked my chief mage here. He will be happy to set up a communication link between himself and one of the court mages so you can discuss matters with an authority capable of making the decision. Tollaf?”
“It’s an easy matter. I’ve done it before so contacting Hazel or Farnley in Thoenar would be a reestablishment rather than a brand new link. It could make a good lesson for my apprentice.”
“Time might be an issue, friend.”
“Hmm. Perhaps I shouldn’t include him then.” Tollaf stood, looking back at the courier when he reached the door. “Well?”
Things were going too fast for Fredrick. “What?”
“Are you coming along or not? We haven’t got all day!”
Fredrick glanced at Torrance who responded, “The sooner you have an answer, Courier Fredrick, the sooner we can continue discussions.”
Plainly ill at ease, he followed Tollaf out the door. Janus turned to his commander. “What are we to make of that?”
“Either someone doesn’t think much of a lowly band of mercenaries to have sent him along, or he has a friend in high places to have gotten a courier position.”
“I’d wager on a combination of the two. I’ve especially never liked his kind, so full of themselves and hardly daring to walk outside without perfuming their smallclothes.” Janus scowled mightily. “Emissary of the king, my wrinkled ass!”
“Calm down, my old mentor. We’ve been ready for him and we still have a few punches left to send his way. He doesn’t seem the type to be able to roll with them.”
“What about Devry and Classent? They looked ready to tear someone’s heart out and eat it when I passed them outside.”
“Why don’t you go tell all the lieutenants with contracts scheduled to stay in town the next few days. The contracts can wait and I want to see how this plays out.”
“Fine. Meanwhile, I’ll get my other work done.”
“I expect this man to be talking with his senior officials for the next few days. Even if it was an honest mistake, the original agreement will have to be dug out of storage and a treasury official will need to be found who can compare the funds anticipated with current balances to see if they can afford us.”
“Can they?”
“Of course they can! There’s always coin to be found when you decide you really need it.”
* * * * *
The eight sergeants in the Seventh and the Twelfth had taken to spending time together in whichever tavern the courier’s guards were patronizing for their current meal. While they sat perched around a table, they would watch with great intensity as the guards shoveled down their food. In other settings, the guards might have decided to make an issue of it, but while surrounded by dozens of men who would undoubtedly leap to the sergeants’ aid, they must have reached the conclusion that discretion would be the better part of valor, at least in Kingshome.
Anything that would drive the courier Fredrick Irons to greater speed worked fine in Torrance’s book. Over the past two-and-a-half days, as predicted, little had been accomplished through the link Tollaf had established with Celerity, a crown mage. Clerks scurried back and forth verifying everything they could, until in the end Fredrick finally convinced one to find the king’s seneschal. Fortunately he had yet to leave the palace complex, and if this delay in his own duties irritated him, his diplomacy concealed it well.
After listening to the situation, he twisted within Tollaf’s mirror to see Torrance over Fredrick’s shoulder. He cut through all the crap and asked, “How much?”
“The normal rate is three silvers per man per eightday. Higher rates apply to specialists and mages.”
“This discount you mentioned?”
“My head clerk tells me we can work at a ten percent discount and still cover our expenses for the season. Of course, hazard fees for actions such as capturing enemy strongholds or clearing choke points and K.S.A., that’s Key Strategic Accomplishment bonuses, must still remain in effect at the standard prices.”
The seneschal’s lips pursed. “How many men all told?”
“We have ten squads at the ready in addition to the squad owed in tribute. The extras number around nine-hundred-fifty.”
“I know you have more men than that, commander.”
“Two of my squads departed eightdays ago for contracts in Tullainia. The other three are already committed to fairly local contracts, but have yet to depart.”
“We need every man we can muster, Commander Torrance. Hasn’t the courier given you the troop information on Nolier?”
“Not yet. We had other matters to sort out between us first.”
In the mirror, the seneschal’s less than friendly gaze shifted back to Fredrick. “Then he will do so as soon as this meeting is concluded.”
“Very well, seneschal. I can hold back the three squads due out but I need the crown to provide recompense to the contractors as well as an official letter of explanation.”
“Why so?”
“I can’t see the Kings’ reputation tarnished without just cause provided. Our reputation is our life’s blood.”
“The letter of explanation is perfectly understandable and justified. I’m asking why we must repay the fees given to you rather than you returning them yourself. Those same men will be earning coin to replace the coin returned.”
“Except that we no longer have that coin. The advance coin generated by early contracts is all spent on the band. Repairing or replacing damaged weapons. Care and maintenance of our mounts. Winter pay for the men to keep in fighting trim during the months of rest. Food and supplies to last through that same winter. I could name countless other expenses generated by the band if you care to listen, all invested in ensuring our men are the best to be had.”
The seneschal looked bitter again, but not at Fredrick. He thought carefully before replying, “Very well then. Have your mage send a list of who needs what. And I want to see you personally face-to-face as soon as you arrive at the staging ground.”
“As you wish, seneschal.”
The busy man left the mirror, and the face of a clerk stepped in to replace it. He began speaking. Fredrick hushed him long enough to say to Torrance, “I still have matters to see to. I will stop by this evening to discuss your orders with you.”
“See t
hat you do. But come nightfall, I close my door and tell my assistants not to disturb me for any reason. If you wish to be on your way tomorrow morning, you had best not keep me waiting.”
He turned his back on the courier’s insulted expression and departed to walk with Janus to the command building.
“Sharp play, there,” the older man commented.
“Which one?”
“Getting the palace to reimburse our employers.”
“It’s the honest truth. We have spent all the coin we received so far.”
“Or an equal amount at any rate. I notice you didn’t go into the current status of the band’s treasury.”
“He didn’t ask, and his responsibilities are keeping him harried. The man must have a hundred matters to see to before the end of the day. Had we been in a less rushed conversation, I’m sure it would have crossed his mind.”
“And that hazardous bonus bit. K.S.A.?” Janus actually chuckled. “Since when have we ever been paid extra for being expendable fighters? I noticed you neglected to mention any costs associated with these new fees you made up. How much coin will you bleed them for, after offering to work at a discount to make them feel they came out on top?”
Torrance gazed at his head clerk, a portrait entitled ‘Innocence’. “However much I feel we deserve by the end of this conflict.”
Later that evening, with himself behind his desk and Tollaf and Janus flanking Fredrick on the other side, discussions resumed. The courier refused the spiced brandy, this time stating his need to leave before dawn.
“The Tenpencia River forms the border between the kingdoms of Galemar and Nolier,” Fredrick began, stating the obvious. “The Nolier king sent his forces across four days before the first winter snowfall. They claimed a strip of land from where the Tenpencia meets the Springbarrel to the northern Cliffsdains.”
“They must be spread thin through those mountains in the north,” Torrance observed. “I believe that’s where the king’s new gold strike was.”
