Book 4, Chapter 24: Spring Campaign Discussion
My generals and majors, and Etienne, sat around the table with me. No Brin, nor Tread, nor Carlisele, for I wanted this discussion kept small. Private. Taking a breath, I started. “Gentlemen, we need to discuss the spring campaign. Well, not so much the campaign, but this duchy. I’m leaving it to Carlisele.”
Gun leaned forward, “Carlisele? That’s a problem.”
Morry already knew, of course, so he didn’t react. Etienne stroked his chin. It probably didn’t matter one way or the other to him, but I needed his council regarding mages.
A frown played across Gun’s face until he spoke, “Why him? He’s a weasel and related to the man who . . . well, by marriage. Carlisele doesn’t hold a candle to Hafthon.”
“That’s exactly why,” I said, “I think Hafthon wouldn’t be content with just this duchy. And if things go badly with the spring campaign, I’m not sure we’d be welcome to return here.”
“And you think Carlisele will be happy to see us return? He despises you!”
“Gun.” Brundle gave him a look. “Who’d you rather face in battle?”
“Ah, yes. So I see.”
“And the point of this meeting. Can Carlisele hold the duchy against Hafthon? How many troops does he need?”
Gun continued, “If you believe Hafthon will start a civil war once we leave, perhaps it’s better that we start spring by visiting Hafthon’s earldom.”
Brundle said, “That would slow our attack on the Barclays, possibly weakening our forces, not to mention what it would do to the kingdom. I’m not sure that’s a wise course of action.”
“And what about the Laemacians?” asked Rand. “Would any of these earls launch a war to gain land with the Laemacian threat on their borders?”
“Their ambassador hinted that he may have made a deal with Hafthon. And, he promised me the empire wouldn’t attack this summer. So that I’d visit them once our campaign is over and the Ketzillian invaders expelled.”
“I’m not so sure you courting a foreign emperor demanding your hand in marriage is a good idea,” said Gun.
“Major,” said Brundle sternly, looking directly at him, “this is a war council.”
Gun continued, “Will we be marching an army there?”
“I didn’t promise anything beyond a visit.”
“That may not matter to a man who’s conquered an empire,” said Morry.
“Yeah. Yes.” I sat back and folded my arms, “Let’s work out the royal visit to Laemacia later, ok? We have to survive the spring and summer for that to matter. The point is there’s no Laemacian threat to keep the earls in line and the earls know it. So, how many troops do we need to take with us, how many can we leave here, enough for Carlisele?”
“Princess,” Etienne said, “how am I contributing to these discussions? It seems these are best left to,” he swept his arm around the room, “military men.”
“Alright, one question and you’re welcome to go. How many mages can we safely leave here for Carlisele? I’m sorta asking this after the fact. I told him he could have ten of ours, for a total of twenty.”
“Ah. And if I recall correctly, Hafthon has eight, Crygmore, seven.”
“Right.” I could feel Rand and Gun wanting to say something, probably about how dangerous it would be for us to be under-maged when it came to warring the Ketzles, but kept my attention focused on Etienne.
“We have thirty-five mages, plus those serving the former Bechalle duke, which brings us up to fifty-eight. It’d be best if we could bring them all. Against Hafthon’s, twenty would be enough to ensure Carlisele’s safety, but that would be cutting it close for us. I suggest leaving him eighteen. That should be enough to dissuade attacks.”
“Eighteen it is. Thank you, Magister Etienne.” Crap, I thought to myself, Carlisele is going to whine when he discovers he’s going to have two less. Ah, well, I’ll bring some crackers, grapes and cheese and make a party of it.
He rose. “A pleasure, my lady. I will take my leave of you. All the best in your planning.”
“Wait, sorry, I have one last question?”
He stopped, turned and faced me. “Yes?”
“What about the Barclay Duchy? We took their mages, but I’m told their priests can-”
“Yes. The battlefield will be largely dependent on the military, if it comes to that. At least until you can interrupt the priests.”
Looking at him, standing tall and arms crossed, it yet surprised me how much his demeanor altered when around my generals and majors. Like he was presenting an aloof, ‘Don’t bother me,’ presence. It had earlier irked me some, but I’d grown used to it.
“So, we won’t out-magic them until after-”
“Exactly.” He gave a quick head nod, “Your Highness,” and then left.
Morry and Brundle watched the wizard leave, but Gun’s and Rand’s eyes were on me. “Alright, that settles the wizard question. I guess we’re going to have to work harder to win this battle and target their priests. The priests.” An idea occurred to me. I liked the idea. Perhaps too much. “Brundle, the rhinos. They break every formation, yes?”
“Yes, they do.” His eyes widened. “You mean to send them at the priests.”
“Well, the wizard just told us the quickest way to end the battle. We need all the rhinos, Carlisele be damned.”
Gun’s smile grew and him and Rand were nodding. Morry tilted his head at me. Yes, big man, I was becoming an awful, murderous person. Just like the rest of you.
“Hopefully,” I said, “it won’t come to that. Hopefully, I can talk some sense into the boy duke and he’ll concede.”
“About the rhinos,” said Brundle. “They’re heavy. They may slow us down.”
“The ambassador assured me they could move almost as fast as a horse.”
“It’s not that I’m concerned about, my lady.”
“It’s the mud,” said Morry. “The spring ground will be soft. Those things weigh at least four horses.”
“They may get bogged down.”
“Ah. But, I mean, they’re animals. It’s not like they’re wagons. Can’t they just walk out of the mud?”
“Did the ambassador say anything about this?”
“He didn’t.” I was wracking my brain, trying to think of any documentaries I’d seen on rhinos, but couldn’t think of any specifics. Savanna, they were at home there. Though, these ones had long hair, so probably they were some kind of northern breed. No savannas, then. But they must encounter bogs and whatever else is in a northern forest. Assuming they were indigenous. “Uh, let’s test them out come spring.”
“Test them out?”
“Yeah. When the ground gets muddy. Is that the right word, muddy? Mushy? We’ll march those rhinos onto it, see how they do.”
“The spring thaw, my lady.”
“Thank you, Gun. If they can’t keep up with the horses, we’ll leave them all here.”
Rand spoke up, “If we have to leave them here, we are risking their capture by Hafthon. If he makes an attempt to capture the duchy, that is.”
“On that note,” said Brundle, “what about the armorer and weapon smithies? I know you want to travel light and quick, but if we leave the master smiths here, we leave their production and worse, their knowledge, in the hands of whoever controls the duchy. I think we should take the men and apprentices with us, even if we cannot take their workshops by wagon.”
“Huh. Those are both good points. Carlisele will have our production lines. And Hafthon already has smiths outfitting his troops with the sarissa now.”
“But he doesn’t have the new weapon designs. The crossbow. Or the lance, or stirrups. Your new armor.”
“We’re going to have to bring all those smiths with us, even if they can’t take all their equipment.”
“And their apprentices,” added Rand.
“Is that possible?” I asked. “It’s a wonder we have enough horses.”
“Well, the apprentices can walk. But the masters, they should get steeds of their own.”
I put my face in my hands briefly, thinking it was another fine mess I found myself in, then looked up at everyone. “I sort of told Carlisele he could keep the smithies as a way of placating his worries. Also,” I held my hand up to calm them down, or at least to let me speak, “if the smithies are here, he can continue making weapons. If we bring them, they won’t be making anything for anyone.”
“If you think Hafthon is a real danger to the kingdom, to your reign, your life,” said Brundle, “perhaps you should seriously reconsider giving Carlisele the smithies. Those are powerful weapons they know how to make.”
“But if we don’t, the duchy may be under equipped.”
“There isn’t an easy solution, Princess.”
“Yeah.” I considered. I’d already decided to strip him of the rhinos. I’d have to leave him the smithies to give him a chance. “The smithies stay. Wait. Most of our discussion is assuming Hafthon will attack. It’s also possible he won’t. If he doesn’t, it’s in our best interests if Carlisele has the new weapon production. An intact, strong duchy here will give our neighbors pause, perhaps even rethinking their visions of conquest. The weapon and armor production stay.”
“Let me blunt,” Brundle said, “Carlisele might just have the troops to hold off against Hafthon. But if Crygmore joins Hafthon, the duchy will fall. Remember that Hafthon has sarissa production now.”
“It can be done, the defense.” All eyes turned to Gun. “Sarissa aren’t very good for attacking a castle. They’re great for crushing infantry on flat ground, but attacking a castle? You need short, close quarters weapons for that.”
“Good point, Gun. So, we should concentrate on building defensive weapons for Carlisele. Crossbows. Brundle, you said they’d be excellent as defensive weapons. Are they ready, yet?”
“Not quite, my lady.”
I sighed. “This is seriously taking too long. How hard is it to get a sideways bow to work?”
Rand tilted his head, “Perhaps that’s why it hadn’t been implemented before.”
I stared at him for a while, suppressing the desire to point out that the crossbow is thousands of years old, older than his entire culture, probably older than his culture’s concept of time. Then I silently screamed in my head, quieted the scream down, and said, “Ok, right. No crossbows. We won’t have enough of the new armor to outfit Carlisele’s cavalry. What’s that leave us?”
“Well, we made it here with roughly 25 000 soldiers. We’ve added Bechalle’s army which, including the castle guard, number 40 000. If we take all of them, we’d ensure our success against the Barclay duchy, but . . .” he stared off into the wall behind me.
“But what?”
Brundle nodded, coming to some agreement with himself, “My lady, I believe the sarissa to be a game changer. I think we can get by with taking only half of the duchy’s standing army.”
“You want to march on the Barclay Duchy with only 45 000 troops?” said Rand, shaking his head. “That’s madness!”
“No,” said Gun. “It’s enough. In all our training, the sarissa beats the smaller pikes easily. Every time. The only failures we’ve had were at the beginning, when the weapon was still new to the men. A sarissa phalanx will crush a regular phalanx every time. I will bet my life on it.”
“And,” said Brundle, “the Barclay troops use spears, not pikes. They use tower shields to compensate, but that won’t make much of a difference, provided we can keep their cavalry at bay.”
“Alright, we’ll leave the castle guard behind. 20 000 men, with Captain Thrace in command. That’s good, I trust him.”
“He seems like a good man,” said Morry.
Rand spoke up, “Regarding the weapon and armor production, what about taking only the master smiths? You’ve had our soldiers making the weapons themselves. They’re competent at that and maintaining them. Once we retake your castle, it’ll be easy enough to set up new production facilities, but having those smiths, with all their experience, would be a great boon.”
“Huh. Good point, Rand. Will the production here continue if we bring our smiths with us? Our master smiths, I mean.”
“That won’t be an issue. Remember, the former duke’s smithies are here, too, but you’ve demoted them, as it were. Placed our smiths in charge. I’m sure ours would be relieved to return home and the Carlisele duchy smiths-”
“-I haven’t exalted him to duke yet. Only if the duchy prospers under him.”
“Ah. But you take my meaning.”
“I will think on this. But I think you’re right, it’s a good idea. And it’d allow us to get the castle, sorry, restore the working state of the castle much more quickly. Yes, that’s what we’ll do.”
I summed it up in my head. Nothing else we needed to go over. The crossbows needed more work, we needed more saddles, more armor, and everything was in motion. There wasn’t much I could do until spring came. “Ok, gentlemen, it sounds like we have a plan to stave off Hafthon getting any ideas, protect this duchy and ourselves. Though that only leaves us with 45 000 troops for the spring.”
“Princess, if I may?” Morry sat up to the table and, after looking at me, said, “The trickle we’ve had, of young men from the earldoms, it’s boosting our ranks somewhat. I’d say we’re closer to 50 000 now.”
“And peasants,” added Brundle. “Peasants with dreams of nobility.”
“Understandable,” said Gun. “No attachments at home, ambitious. I would guess most of them are third or fourth born sons.”
“A wager I’ll not take you up on,” said Rand, “but what shall we do with these new, ah, soldiers?”
“Some of them must be spies. The ones from the earldoms. What do you think? Fit them into our regular army or set up a new regiment?”
“It’d be better for training to work them in, but easier to keep an eye on them in their own regiment.” Brundle took a drink, then set it down slowly, “Mostly young men? Let’s place them in the infantry. When the newer weapons are ready, none of these new troops get to join those regiments.”
“That sounds good. Also, let it be known that no new knighthoods will be issued until the unranked soldiers prove themselves in battle. That way they can’t just show up, get knighted, and go home to brag to their friends. And we have to use some of them to bolster Carlisele’s forces.”
Brundle said, “We’ll sort them, depending.”
“Is it wrong for me to hope that a lot of Hafthon’s and Crygmore’s troops join our army?”
“This . . . desertion will add fuel to the earl’s anger, Princess. Be prepared for that, given that we’re creating new regiments out of their former troops.”
“Most of them are not soldiers, Morrentz,” said Gun. “I’d guess the majority are farmers, laborers, apprentices. That sort of thing.”
“Ok,” I said, “peasants. My concern is that this will negatively affect our army. They won’t have any training, will they? Can we train them in time?”
“Always room in the skirmishers and peltasts. Perhaps even as archers.” Brundle clasped his hands together, nodding, “Most peasants know how to sling stones, and most can loose arrows proficiently. A lot of them feed their families that way.”
“I don’t like the idea of making these young men into cannon fodder.”
“I’m sorry, Your Highness, what was that?”
“Uh, meat shields. Front line troops? I want them well trained, not just thrown into battle in the weakest regiments.”
“Skirmishers have their place, my lady. They help protect the phalanx.”
“Right, right. Ok, that’s what we’ll do, then.” I sat up straight, took a sip from my tea, looked at every man in turn. Morry’s dark brown eyes, Gun’s blue and playful, slight smile, Brundle’s thoughtful browns, Rand’s narrow, guarded gaze. Each of them, here to protect me. It welled up, suddenly, in my chest and cheeks and eyes, intense gratefulness. These men had kept me alive, were working to keep me alive.
“Princess,” Morry asked, “are you alright?”
“Fine. Yes. I’m good.” Blinking and blinking, looking to the side and pushing these annoying feelings down, deep breath. I then dropped my hands to my teacup, taking the last of its warmth, “Ok. Weapon production is coming along. Crossbow development, lagging. Our army is growing. That’s your job, gentlemen. I have to deal with the earls. Looks like we have this sorted. Thank you. I really mean that. Thank you all.” Damn these teenage hormones. If only there was a cure. Other than aging out. That wouldn’t come quick enough.
I stood. They stood. A chorus of ‘My lady.’ Gun gave me a quick head tilt and a smile, Brundle, ever humble, held the door for Rand. Morry sat back down across from me. I joined him in sitting, took a sip of my now lukewarm leaf water.
And here I thought I was alone. Alone with my secrets and my damned, forgotten past.
Morry said nothing, didn’t look at me. Gave me silence.
I was grateful.
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