Book 3, Chapter 28: The Best Laid Plans
The next day, in the evening, we were holding a council meeting on the details of the spring campaign. I’d planned to announce Brin as the castellan in charge, make vague promises about returning to this dukedom and head off.
Looks like I’ve been a fool.
It was late afternoon, a few hours before our meeting. I grabbed some bread and cheese, tea, tossed them in a basket, snuck off up a tower and sat near the edge, overlooking the large outer courtyard. Off in the distance, infantry were training.
Somehow, I thought I’d been the exception here. To their highly restrictive gender roles. A princess! The one at the top, in charge. But, no, they’d been steering me into their norms and I didn’t even notice. Well, I noticed and fought back, I guess. A bit, on the obvious stuff. It was the less obvious stuff I’d missed.
Hafthon, arranging everything behind the scenes. Or, at least, everything here. I wondered, now, whether he was in contact with the Barclay Duchy, the Seclazrin Church. That seemed unlikely. Unless he truly was a mastermind. Though, he was the one pushing me to marry the new duke. He probably wanted to deal with a teenage boy instead of me.
I took a sip of tea, slightly annoyed I hadn’t brought ale, but past me knew that present me drinking ale would lead to a drunk future me in the council meeting, and wisely choose tea. Even more annoying was that I hadn’t put two and two together about Hafthon. Brin had to spell it out for me.
The spring campaign. Probably the reason we didn’t have civil war now, here. It was a time limit for when I’d leave this duchy and Hafthon would take it. He knew I was going, he could wait. He probably hoped my army would lose. Then he and the Barclay boy could fight it out, work out who’d be king.
Maybe I should marry the boy, just to spite Hafthon.
Or the Laemacian emperor. The better option, at least in terms of raw power and to hell with the kingdom.
I hated to admit this to myself, but that was ever becoming a more palatable prospect. Fourth wife. Maybe he’d pay me less attention. We’d take over this kingdom, which really wasn’t mine anyways, since I wasn’t really the princess, and I could gloat all I wanted at their hidden political maneuvering. Lots and lots of gloating!
Looking at the tea, I tried wishing it into ale. I was being dumb. The spring campaign felt like running from my problems to solve them. Well, it had seemed like my problems were the invaders in my land, the errant duchy. Now the problems seemed everywhere.
“You found my hiding place.” Maitlan poked his head up through the trapdoor. “One of them, anyways.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I came here to sit and think. I didn’t know you’d be here.”
“Oh. Well, have a seat then.” I tapped the ground beside me. Misery loving company and all that, and Maitlan probably wouldn’t worsen the misery.
He sat down beside me, looking at my face while I continued to stare at the view and the horizon. “How did you find this place?”
“Uh, the staircase. I found it, walked up, found myself here. You want some bread and cheese?” I pushed the basket over to him.
He opened it, tore off a piece of bread, took some cheese, “Thank you. What’d you come up here for?”
“Ah . . . politics. Trying to figure out who to name duke here. Looks like it has to be Hafthon.”
“Yeah, that makes sense. He’s the reason everything happens around here. The earls all follow his lead.”
Annoyed, I gave him a sideways glance. “What if I named you duke?”
He hesitated, looked down, and said, “In truth, I couldn’t hold it. Not enough men. And no one listens to me.”
“Maitlan, those are the wisest words I’ve heard come out of your mouth.”
“Well, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking about how my father lost the earldom.”
“Wasn’t it just because of the invading army?”
“Yeah, the Ketzles. Sure, they won the battles, took the castle and village. I guess I’ve been wondering how to not let that happen again.”
“And what did you come up with?”
“I need more people. It’s difficult, you know, being a frontier earldom. It’s not truly a frontier as the Ketzles are further east, but to the north there’s nothing but untamed land. And that’s hard to hold and turn into farmland.”
“Monsters?”
“Yeah, and constant incursions by the Ketzles and the brigands they sponsor.”
“Damn.”
“Yeah.” He pushed his thick, black hair back, turned his sitting posture toward me, away from the view. “I’ve been running a number of ideas through my head. Lowering taxes, giving away free land. We probably have lots of empty homesteads now.”
“All good ideas.”
“You know, your castle is on my side of the river.”
“Uh, yes. It is.”
“Only natural that we work together. Our two holdings.”
“Sure, yeah. We can increase trade, build roads between our villages.”
He lifted the basket out of the way, pushed closer to me. I focused ever more strongly on the horizon, the clouds floating atop it. They were just starting to take on a silver lining as the sun slowly descended behind them, the blue sky becoming more and more pastel.
“I was thinking, Cayce, about something stronger. We’re both on that side of the river, we both have to grow our lands. A strong west to oppose the east, to keep them from going rogue, as the Barclays have done.”
“Maitlan, I came up here to think about how to deal with the current crisis, not future ones.”
“That’s why I’m your best choice as suitor. We have mutual problems, the solutions of which require mutual support. I think, with your permission, we should court each other.”
I turned my head at that, to look into his young eyes, pupils wide, face smooth, young and earnest. The boy had dreams. I should have just said ‘no,’ but instead I asked, “Court each other?”
“Yes, get to know each other better. You can appoint chaperones if you like, though we wouldn’t be able to sit up here alone then.”
“No, Maitlan.”
Happiness entered his voice, “Right, we don’t need chaperones.”
“I mean no to the courtship.”
“No? But think about it-”
“Look, I’ll let you hold my hand if you’re quiet while the sun sets. I want to watch it go down over the fields. Then, I have to go to a council meeting.”
He scooted a little closer, took my right hand in his left, onto his lap, looking at my face. “See, this is nice.”
“Shhh.” I couldn’t quite figure it out, but the sunsets were different here. Brighter, sharper. Perhaps because it was a different world. Or the lack of air pollution. Most of my sunsets were from within the urban sprawl, sometimes seen off the mirrored glass of skyscrapers.
I let my mind wander as the sky’s hues brightened, reddened, slowly darkening.
Brin had basically gone full realpolitik in the bath. My place in the hierarchy wasn’t because I was a princess, it was because of my army. Clearly, it was more complicated than that, but as a contestation to the earls’ power, the errant duchy, my Ketzillian enemies and Laemacian frenemy, that was it. The source of my power, the source of my allure.
I’d improved their tech. At least for the infantry thus far. Cavalry next with stirrups and the lance. Crossbow soon to come. What else? I needed something to form a bond between myself and normal soldiers, even normal people.
At various times in history, commoners were closer to their monarchs than their local lords. Their lives and lower courts were ruled by barons and earls, with all their unpleasantness, but the peasantry could appeal directly to the king for judgement. And this was done in the case of abusive nobility. Infrequently, to be sure. It made the peasantry support their ultimate oppressor, the ruling monarch, because he was their only hope against their immediate overlords.
So, I could establish a similar court system. But that would take years and a lot of pushback from the nobility.
Or I could foment the more romantic notions of the monarchy existing to protect the land and her peoples. That’d take either propaganda or the creation of an institution that, at least on the outside, seemed to work on the peasants’ behalf, moral.
I needed something like that. Less sinister if possible.
“Cayce?” he squeezed my hand gently.
“Maitlan, be quiet and enjoy the sunset.”
***
I’d left Maitlan at the bottom of the tower stairwell, forcing him to reluctantly let go of my hand. Today’s meeting was not for earls. For they were, in some respects, the problems to be discussed.
My generals Brundle and Morrentz, and majors Rand and Gun, men I trusted to lead my army, Brin and Tread, my trusted advisors and friends, and the wizard Etienne, whom I had no choice but to trust, waiting on me to say something. A number of issues needed discussing and I didn’t know which to begin with. The earl’s refusal to crown me queen for one. And a restructuring of how warfare is carried out for two. Ugh.
I tapped the back of my chair. Pulled it out. Sat down. “Gentlemen, Lady Brin. I, well,” my decision made, my gaze on Brundle, “tell me, when is the first we can move our armies on Castle Barclay?”
“I take it their ambassador didn’t convince you to marry the young duke?”
“Accurate assessment, General.”
“The earliest we can move is late May. If we’re lucky with weather, perhaps mid-May. Before that, the ground will be too soft for wagons. We’d get bogged down just after about the halfway point, as we head from the foothills into the plains.”
“How do horses fare during this time?”
“Better than wagons. Horses can follow ridgelines and higher ground better.”
“Surely you don’t mean to march an army on horses alone?” asked Rand.
“Yes. No baggage train. Horses and men.”
Rand continued, “What about the hospital? Provisions?”
“Horseback.”
Tread scratched his head. “Uhm, it’s doable. Hard and complicated. But doable.”
“Do tell,” said Rand.
“Tread?” Best get him to explain.
“Uh, the hospital is basically beds, vinegar, tools and supplies. All that can be transported on horses. And donkeys and mules. It’s just a matter of partitioning the, ah, equipment.”
Rand narrowed his eyes, then looked at me, “You didn’t invite the head physician here, though.”
“No, I didn’t. I wanted to discuss the logistics first. Also,” I took a deep breath, to release my bomb, “no camp followers.” The men sat straight up in surprise. Brundle cocked his head. “No private camp followers, I mean. I want a fast, mobile army. I want to get to Castle Barclay before they think we’ve left.” I was stealing from Phillip II again. Another major innovation in war. He virtually eliminated camp followers from his army, reducing them to one servant for every six men. It dramatically increased the speed and versatility of his army as he no longer had to protect or feed camp followers, nor all the extra care required for their wagons and equipment to keep them up with the army.
Morry, with a bemused smile, sat forward, “You may have rebellion among the married men.”
“I want a professional army and not a roving village.”
“What about,” Gun asked, “the smithies? We’d taken the weapon and armor smithies with us from Breadamont to here, and they were instrumental in maintaining our equipment.”
“And in perfecting our new weaponry, yes. It’s a loss. Our soldiers will have to maintain their weapons and carry the tools to do so.” Tread was about to speak, but I continued, “It doesn’t have to be for each soldier. Every ten soldiers could have one kit that they share. Or something like that. I need you gentlemen to work out the details.”
Tread closed his mouth, sitting back and Brundle spoke instead, “The benefits to this reorganization would be considerable if we can exceed our enemy’s, excuse me, our target’s expectations in terms of time. That will still require wizards.”
“They will have to ride or walk along with us.”
Brin spoke up, “Etienne, couldn’t they simply harden a road for the wagons?”
“No, it would cost an enormous amount of power and would not go unnoticed. Princess Cayce is correct. Horses and pack animals without wagons. The only way for the army to leave early come spring.” His gaze bore into me. I’d never answered his questions about where the technology I implemented came from and here I was, introducing more unusual ideas.
“Speed,” I said, “speed is key. The Barclays surely know we’re coming. Or, will know when I send their ambassador home.”
Gun spoke up, “What about holding them here or executing them? Their order has threatened you and . . . more. Your troops would not judge you for it.”
“Not a good idea,” said Morry. “Many know they’re here and they’ve treated with the resident archbishop. Neither is a good plan. Better we let them return home with their war preparations coming too late.”
“Horses . . .” said Rand, folding his fingers together.
“Also, the Laemacians. Gentlemen, if we can’t get the Barclay Duchy to give us soldiers, either through force or persuasion, I will likely,” eyes down at the table, I took in a breath before looking back up, “have to acquiesce to the Laemacian demands and marry the emperor.”
Morry folded his arms, sitting back, Rand shook his head, Gun stood up to argue, Brundle waited, Tread sat there looking like Tread, and Brin tilted her head.
I held up my hand, “I don’t want to marry him, but their army seems vastly stronger than ours.”
Rand looked at Etienne, “What about mages? Do we have more than they do?”
“Unlikely,” he said, eyes on me.
“Our new weapons are proving very strong,” said Gun. “I don’t think you need to concede to their power.”
Brundle looked at Gun, “Those sarissa won’t stop a rhino charge. And neither will our cavalry. The problem is that our reliance on our infantry requires exactly the terrain that rhinos are most effective in. Flat land.”
I had to go about this more carefully than I’d done in the past. But I didn’t know how to be subtle. And, damnit, I didn’t want to. “Brundle, Morry, Majors, the key to stopping a rhino charge isn’t stopping the rhinos. It’s stopping their handlers. I need you to work that out perhaps, I don’t know, using our new crossbows?”
“They’re not quite ready, I’m afraid. We still have inconsistencies in shooting and the models are heavy.” Brundle saw my glare and continued, “But we’ll work out solutions with archers first, javelins if we have to.”
“Excellent.” I didn’t look at Etienne because I did not want to see his knowing, questioning gaze. Maybe I should just tell him the truth. ‘Hey, wizard, I’m from another planet where magic doesn’t exist and we shot all the rhinos for their ivory.’ He had no connection to the princess before meeting me. Maybe he’d understand. It’d be nice, really nice, if there was someone I could confide in. Get their take on the situation.
I closed my eyes briefly, shaking off these thoughts. “Alright, Gun, Rand and Tread work out how to turn our wagon army into a horse army. Extra equipment, medical supplies, wizards, provisions, everything we’d normally bring with us on pack animals. Brundle, Morry, I need solutions, good ones, to the rhino problem. Thank you. I have one more matter to discuss.” They looked up from their thoughts, “The earls won’t support my coronation as queen. I will remain the crown princess.”
“Bastards,” Gun said.
Morry replied, “To be expected.”
“What do you plan on doing about it, Cayce?” asked Brin. “Anything?”
“Well. It seems to me that the military – my soldiers – lend me the most support.”
“We do, we all do,” said Gun, with Brundle and Rand nodding. “We can take the earldoms. We have the numbers, especially with these new-”
“Gun!” I laughed, shocked that we were jumping to insta-conqueror, “That’s not what I meant. I want to . . . I want to elevate the status of all my soldiers. Of all brave men willing to fight for their kingdom.” I looked around the table, wondering if they were ready for an expansion of their political system to something that would directly support the crown, me, but also those who protected me, the soldiers. It made me curious if this discussion was also old in history, repeated every time a king found himself at odds with the nobles he tried to rule.
Yup. I was stealing from history again.
But you know what? It was my history to steal from.
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