Book 4, Chapter 30: Meeting for War
“I’d like to begin this meeting with an update on our weapons readiness and training.” Back in the office above the dining hall, but sitting at the table instead of the sofa chairs. My military advisers to coordinate my army’s campaign and the running of the duchy. Friends, at this point. At least, for me. With Carlisele present. I was mixed on having him here. On the one hand, he’d be running the place soon, so he needed to know some of what we were going to talk about. But on the other, if Hafthon got to him, either by taking the dukedom or just by being really, super nice, then he’d spill all these secrets.
I seriously considered preparing an NDA for him. No disclosing, on the pain of lawsuits! Probably wouldn’t mean a lot in the face of torture, though. Different world, different legal system. And, by the reasoning of some naïve social scientists, equally moral.
“Sarissa practice is ongoing, but the infantry are well trained at this point. We are catching up the new recruits, those we accepted into the phalanx.” Gun looked oddly content, confident in his easy smile to me. Perhaps because his were the only men’s lips to have tasted mine. I looked away, annoyed that thought crossed my mind. Annoyed it lingered in my mind.
“The new saddle you invented,” began Morry, “along with the lance, which despite my mixed thoughts about, work well in combination.” Over the winter, we’d hammered down the design for the saddle to a much slimmer version. Mostly leather, reinforced by wood, a more stable seat that could support a fully armored soldier and help cushion the force of a lance attack. I had no idea how this compared to saddle development in my reality, but they looked similar and this one outperformed the previous, four-post saddle because of the stirrups and increased strength.
“I didn’t really invent the new saddle. Or the lance. I paid craftsman to ma-”
“Princess.”
“Yeah,” slight shake of my head, ever so slight rolling of my eyes, “ok.” I should, I told myself, play the child prodigy for Carlisele’s sake. “The mad genius, me. How is crossbow development coming along?”
Brundle spoke up, “We’ve gotten them up to four bolts per minute. Faster than that is difficult, possibly only achievable with a decrease in string tension and a different loading device. However, they are quite powerful and will easily breach armor within a fifty-yard range. Because of this, I’ve been working them into a new regiment and figuring out how best to use them.”
“And what have you come up with?
“We tried your suggestion, the ‘red-coat’ formation of two straight lines, one kneeling and the other standing. That, I’m afraid, was a good idea but not useful in practice.”
“Huh. Really? Why ever not?” It worked with muskets. I didn’t understand why it wouldn’t work with heavy crossbows.
“Because the straight lines leave the crossbowmen too vulnerable. Two lines deep simply spreads out the stopping power rather than concentrating it, allowing wedge formations, be they cavalry or shield-carrying skirmishers, to easily overcome them.”
“I see.” It had to be that muskets were simply more deadly, perhaps even fired faster – not a thing I could know – but glad Brundle had been testing out various formations. It would be terrible to discover your formations didn’t work in actual battle. Might be the last thing one learns. “What have you come up with?”
“If you’ll excuse the simplicity, a V or W formation, directed toward the enemy, works best. Less chance for accidents, like hitting your fellows. And it makes them less spread out, so better protection. In terms of rapid loosing, what we’ve found works best is having two-man teams, where one man is constantly reloading and the other loosing. That spreads the line out pretty thin, though.”
“Are the smithies still producing these weapons?” Carlisele asked.
“Yes, my lord.” Brundle focused his gaze, no smile on his face, on the earl. “We are leaving you with two sarissa production facilities, a crossbow-smithy, saddle maker and two armorers producing plate mail. There isn’t a more advanced military production system in the kingdom, possibly the world.” He looked back at me, then Carlisele again, “You are only limited by materials.”
“I see.” The earl folded his hands on the table, leaning forward. A hint of a smile curling on his face.
Well, screw him, I thought to myself, I’ll invent gunpowder when I have the time and wipe that smile right off his face. Showing up with a machine gun under each arm, I’ll introduce him to my little friends at five hundred rounds per minute. Though I’d perhaps want cocaine invented first.
“In terms of armor,” Brundle went on, “the new plate mail, we have outfitted General Morrentz’s cavalry, but do not have enough for the regular cavalry. That armor is very metal expensive and time consuming to make.”
“You are leaving me without metal? How am I supposed to protect this dukedom?”
I jumped in with, “That’s not the case, my lord.” Had to keep up honorifics, lest the good lord turn red, get all pissy, and my majors run him through, “You’ll have some iron and wood. The smithies are making weapons and armor as quickly as we can and we barely have enough for our needs.”
“I’ll be refitting my entire army from scratch, then.”
“I could take the master smiths with me. To protect them.”
“No,” he held up his hand, shaking his head, “they’ll be safer here.”
Morry leaned forward, “See that they are.”
Carlisele didn’t answer him, but backed up into his chair as if he were sitting up rather than fleeing. Not for the first time, I thought myself a moron. Why oh why couldn’t Hafthon just accept me? Maybe not his fault. I was still having a tough time accepting me.
“The new armor is very protective,” said Morry. “Its solid steel is excellent at staving off blows. Some of the men have even gone so far as to fight each other with regular swords. Only a few injuries. Mainly bruising. One soldier injured his wrist. We’ll know more after testing them in battle.”
Now that war was coming, and it was my choice to bring it, I was suddenly thinking it was a bad idea. Why couldn’t these duchies and kingdoms and empires just leave me in peace? Perhaps this is why weapons were often named ‘peacemaker,’ because the user just wanted to get away from the fighting. You know, to start a farm or something. Farms are nice.
I said to Morry, “That’s great. I guess we’ll be having tournaments and sword fighting competitions.”
“It’s a healthy way for soldiers to pass the time.”
“And get their bones broken.” I steeled myself for the attack I’d be receiving and looked directly at Carlisele, “We’ve decided to take all forty rhinos with us.”
“You’re breaking our deal?” He crossed his arms, “I’m not sure we can hold the duchy in that case. I may have to rethink-”
“The war rhinos are an offensive weapon, my lord. Holding this duchy means you’ll be concerned with defense, not offense. They will help us to a greater advantage than you.”
“I disagree. You haven’t experienced many battles and when people attack, we ride out to meet them on a field. Offense is defense.”
“Crossbows,” said Brundle.
“Excuse me?”
“You’ll have plenty of crossbows and the smithies to make more. They’re better as defensive weapons, with lots of stopping power.”
“You’re asking me to rely on untested weapons.”
“I’ve been testing them all winter. My lord, you are welcome to visit the training, learn the formations. We can discuss defense of the duchy at the same time.”
“And,” said Rand, “new recruits continue to trickle in, enticed by the possibility of exaltation.”
“Knighthood,” I said offhandedly. I’d introduced the new institution, new technology, but the vocabulary didn’t seem to be catching on.
“I will have to doublecheck the numbers to see if this is acceptable. But,” he stared down at the table, “in the spirit of cooperation . . .”
“Thank you, my lord. Tread, about . . .” I paused and held up my hand so he didn’t speak. An idea occurred to me. The entire table waited. “Crossbows.”
“Yes, we just discussed those.”
“Brundle, the war rhinos. They have three people on, yes? A handler and two attackers who throw javelins or loose arrows.”
“Yes, my lady. Protected in part by the box they sit in atop it. The, uh, howdah, it’s called.”
“And the fastest way to defeat them is to attack their handlers, yes? We discussed this before the Laemacian ambassador left, right after he gifted me those.”
“I remember. And, yes, that’s correct. We’ve been running drills. I’m confident that some of our forces could now withstand a war rhino charge. Phalanx and crossbows working together-”
“I want the rhino soldiers outfitted with plate mail armor, at least for their upper bodies. Instead of javelins or whatever, they’ll bring four crossbows. As you said, the fastest way to use those is for one man to load, one to fire. I mean loose. One to load, one to loose.”
His turn to give me the ‘huh’ face. He sat back, stroking his chin, then forward, “That will work. That will combine our most powerful missile weapon with our most powerful offensive regiment. My lady.”
Carlisele just stared at me through the exchange, saying nothing. Probably upset he wasn’t getting the big guns. Not my problem. Well, it might become my problem, but I sure hoped he could hold the duchy.
“Brilliant. Ok, looks like we are ready. Oh, wait, one more thing.” I put on my sweetest face, the default cute expression, but left off the smile lest it be interpreted as a smirk. “My lord Carlisele, Wizard Etienne has informed me that he’d be leaving you eight mages, not ten. I’m sorry.”
“He did? I’d be more comfortable with the ten we agreed upon.”
“He said your eighteen would beat the other earls’ combined fifteen. I’m afraid it’s out of my hands. The Ketzillian force, you see, has-”
“Yes, yes, a greater reserve of wizards. When did Etienne come to this decision and why hasn’t he informed me himself?”
“I’m sure you can take that up with him.”
The earl tapped on the table twice, then crossed his arms. He didn’t overtly pout or argue, and that was the best I could hope for. All I needed to do was toss Etienne under the bus – thanks, wizard! “Alright, I believe that’s everything. My lord, generals, majors, let’s get the final preparation underway.”
Tread cleared his throat. “Excuse me, one last item.”
“Right, sorry, Sir Tread. Logistics.”
“If you’ll pardon me, I will go through the preparations of food, equipment, and pack animals. Securing enough horses to carry the provisions was hard. Difficult. I’ve, uhm, well you have to bring donkeys and mules as well.”
“Mules? Alright, ok. Let’s go through the list. Horses, mules . . . and?”
“Well, we’ve secured enough canvas for the extra soldiers who joined for their tents . . .” Everyone’s eyes glazed over except for Brundle’s and Carlisele’s and, of course, Tread’s, as he went through the list of provisions for each soldier, the number of pack animals, horses, extra sarissa, and on and on.
The earl interrupted him from time to time asking about his own stores. Like he needed to arrange a military expedition or something. But I guess he needed to gauge the state of the duchy. Maybe, just maybe, that made him a responsible ruler.
Our army would still be a village, even without the camp followers. Over fifty thousand strong. My army. And that’s not even counting the ravens and crows and foxes who were secretly forming their own little regiments, who’d attached themselves to me for reasons I couldn’t imagine. My own murders of crows and conspiracies of ravens, skulks of foxes.
I wished and wished, even to the point of feeling girlish and hopeful and giddy, that they had little gnomes with miniature lances and tiny bows and squeaky voices riding atop them all.
***
As they were leaving, Brundle, ever kind, held the door open for first the earl, then Rand, Gun. Morry, of course, remained seated.
I quickly stood, saying, “Brundle, I need to talk to you a moment, please.”
“Alright.” He closed the door.
“And me, Princess?”
“It’s ok, you can hear this.” After Brundle sat down, I said, “One last thing. No need to share it with the earl, but those mage-killing arrows. And the snipers who used them. We won’t need them against Barclay, but for Ketzle, I think we do.”
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