Book 2, Chapter 3: Nighttime

We pushed our forced march to twelve hours. It was harsh, especially on the wounded. Some grumbled and complained, but either we beat the army to the next bridge or we met them on the battlefield, a conflict we weren’t likely to win.

I was fine, perhaps a little tired, but I was young and full of energy and this world was new and exciting for me. I’d never seen so many insects, birds . . . life! The countryside abounded with them. After the statue, as I studied the hills to support my ideas – that a massive flood swept through the area hundreds or thousands of years ago – I saw many birds of prey, caught a glimpse of some rabbits and even a far-off herd of elk.

There’s a place in North America where, millions of years prior, an enormous freshwater lake was dammed up by glaciation. When the glaciers melted enough, the flooding swept across the land, creating even, regular hills that look just like river and lake deposits, where rivers slow down and drop their catch of stones and sand. I was thinking a similar event took place here, only it apparently buried a prosperous civilization.

“Your Highness, were you paying attention?”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

The master physician, whom I knew to have a short temper, sighed ever so slightly and resumed his explanation, “We’ve lost nine wounded soldiers today. The pace is hard.”

“It can’t be helped. We need to beat them to that bridge,” said General Brundle.

“Yes, though at this pace, we cannot bury them. They are wrapped in cloth for safekeeping until we reach Castle Bechalle and can give them a decent burial.”

The physician was here in place of Reese, the head nurse who, because she’d been constantly using her magic to heal our injured, was too exhausted to attend. I was disappointed. Reese had a level head, and I was not only hoping to get her input but get to know her better. This guy was arrogant and a bit of an ass. Still, he respected the title of princess if not the age or the sex. I suppose that worked.

“I’m guessing the wagons carrying bodies should be near the rear?”

“Reese and Echo have ensorcelled the bodies to prevent their decay.” Echo was the other healing wizard-nurse whom I hadn’t met.

“That’s a thing? Do we also, uh, ensorcell food to preserve it?”

He looked aghast at the idea. “We have salt for that very thing! And jars, and pickling. Your Highness, perhaps it would be best if you allowed the grown-ups . . . I’m sorry, the experts, to-”

“-to do their jobs. Yes, thank you. Now, Master Physician,” I said the honorific with a twinkle in my eyes, to remind him of his previous overstepping, “whatever extra resources you need that we have available, just let me know.”

“Thank you, my lady, that is most kind.”

“For sure.” I smiled and turned to Brundle, “Have our rear scouts returned?”

“Not yet. I’m a little concerned, but it’s only been one day. If they haven’t returned by the third day, we’ve probably got an army following us.”

I narrowed my eyes. “That wouldn’t be good.”

“They won’t immediately attack us. They’d want their forward army to cross that bridge, then trap us in a pincer move.”

“As I see it,” I began, “that leaves us with two choices. Head backward and hopefully engage and defeat their rear regiments or continue at our strong pace and hopefully outrace their forward regiments.”

“That about sums it up. If we race back and are wrong, we will have given up any hope of besting them. Their full army would be ahead, waiting and well rested. Also, even with an army behind us, if we pursued them, they might simply retreat instead of engaging. We’d have to leave our supply train vulnerable.”

Rand, one of the new majors, added, “As a devil’s advocate, let me add one suggestion.” Our attention focused on him. He was in his early thirties, brown hair, and sported a moustache. “We could out-pace our supply train now and get the bulk of the army past the bridge.”

The physician drew back, “That would leave the hospital and-”

“-and the smithies vulnerable,” said the master weaponsmith.

“Yes, I didn’t mean that as a, uhm, I only meant that as a suggestion to consider. Not a serious tactic.” Rand looked downward.

I spoke up to reassure everyone, “I don’t like it. But it has some merits.” Surprised looks, I held up my hand to keep them from talking. “Not exactly as Rand suggested, but if we could send part of our army ahead, perhaps we could encircle their forward force.”

“Terrible idea, Princess.” Morry started, taking a breath in to continue but Brundle beat him to it.

“We don’t have the numbers. That would break us into two armies of ten thousand each. They have probably forty thousand in their lead army, possibly thirty thousand behind. Or-”

“-seventy thousand ahead. I, uh, take your point. Alright, I need solutions. Positives. What do we have?” Blank faces. Maybe we were truly screwed.

“Well,” started Brundle, “we have at least as many wizards as they do. That’s a plus.”

I would have asked the grand magister about the situation, but he hadn’t come, not even at my request. I made a mental note to visit him during the travels tomorrow. I needed to learn more about magic, its limitations, its potential. Maybe even get him to teach me some. Right now, as far as I was concerned, it was good for two things: creating invisible barriers and forcing confessions. Three things, I’d forgotten the most important part of magic: healing. But that seemed to cost the healer a lot.

“When can we expect word from Duke Bechalle?” We’d sent two squads of light cavalry, twenty-four men, forward to inform him of our situation and intentions.

“Assuming he replies, a week or more. Ten days, perhaps. We’re a week out from his castle. Our troops must ride there first, then back with whatever answer he provides. With luck, he will rally his forces to our struggle.”

“With respect, Your Highness,” said Rand, glancing apologetically to Brundle, “at most, he will be able to muster some twenty thousand troops. At most. He won’t have time to call in his bannermen.”

“And he is . . . capricious,” added Morry, underselling it. Not a single person, except Brin, had said anything kind about Bechalle. It was all ‘are you sure you want to go there?’ and ‘he’s a terrible tyrant.’

“I wouldn’t call him capricious!” Brin jumped in, “More like contemplative. He’ll help us, he’ll help Cayce. I’m sure of it.”

“Damned if we do, damned if we don’t.” I slumped a little, feeling it. Brin gave me a nasty look, so I hastily added, “I mean having armies at our back and our front. I take it we can’t just park ourselves on a high hill and build a fortress?”

“Not facing such a large army. Perhaps if we’d stayed with the Barclay forces. Or retreated with them to their castle.” Rand added, “Either might have dissuaded this army from following or sent them to easier pickings.”

Yeah, I got the message, Rand. I’d broken up the armies, lost the grip my family had over the kingdom and probably doomed us all. I pushed these thoughts down.

“Alright.” I stood up, “gentlemen, Lady Brin, that concludes tonight’s meeting. We’ll have this conversation, I mean this meeting, again tomorrow night. Brundle, Master Weaponsmith, I’d like you to stay a moment, there’s something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Everyone but those two and Morry rose and made their way to their own tents. To Brundle, I said, “Over this week, while we’re riding, I would like you to introduce me to the command structure. I’m woefully unprepared for . . . what I’m doing.”

“Leading an army?”

I smiled, “I didn’t want to say it.”

“So far, you’ve rescued men from crucifixion and organized our retreat fairly well, I’d say.”

“I didn’t organize anything. You guys let me sleep in.”

The master weaponsmith touched my arm, “Let the man compliment you, Your Highness.”

“Well, none of us would be here without competent leaders and trained soldiers. Oh! That reminds me, the crucified soldiers, I want to form a separate regiment out of them, with their own commander.”

“Whatever for?”

“I want to make an elite force out of them.”

“An elite force? They were randomly chosen from the troops.”

“Not so random, I think. You were chosen to be crucified. Morry and Tread, too. Barclay wanted to cripple the kingdom. I bet some of those men are talented fighters.”

“And also grateful to be alive,” Morrentz said, “grateful to the princess here.”

“Exactly that! Can you do it?”

“Yes. Can it wait until we have reached Castle Bechalle and in a more stable environment?”

Leaning forward, Morry said, “Whatever you think is best, General.”

“Agreed, it can wait. In that case, Brundle, I’ll see you on the morrow, to discuss, ah, how militaries function. After morning weapons training.”

“As you wish. Good night, Princess. Gentlemen.” Brundle left the tent, hopefully to consider what I’d asked of him.

With that, I turned to the smith, ready to put my player character plans in action. “Master Smith, do you know what a sarissa is?”

***

Morry walked with me back to our tents. “Have a good sleep, Princess.”

“I don’t know, what do you think?”

“About sleeping? Looking forward to it.”

“No, about, the changes I’m making. Everything. You think I’m up for this?”

“Change is never easy. Neither is leadership. But you have it now and change is therefore your prerogative.”

“Yes, well-”

“Don’t overthink things. You’re right about the pikes, by the way. Longer pike, longer reach. Better to kill your enemy from afar. Just don’t make them too heavy.”

“Right. We’ll be testing them when we get settled. If we can make it there.”

“We’ll make it.”

“Alright, have a good sleep, Morry. See you tomorrow.” I’d wanted us in the same tent, but Brin nearly died of a heart attack. No, nope, never, that just wasn’t befitting ladies of our station. Sigh, ok. In a land where you can’t wear pants, having men sleep in your tent, even guards, was beyond scandalous.

I did, however, switch our royal tent fabric to that of a regular soldier’s tent. No point in advertising “here’s the princess, come kill her” to all those assassins I’d been hearing about. Hadn’t seen any yet, probably unlikely on the road, but you never know. Perhaps tomorrow.

So, now we had night guards. Four. As I came into view, they were standing at attention. “Gentlemen, thank you. And, good night.” Lots of Your Highnessing and I entered the tent. I promised myself I’d get to know them, but right now I needed sleep.

When everything around you is new, from exercises to responsibilities to foods, you are very sleepy when bedtime rolls around. And I was feeling it.

“What do you think of our new tent, Cayce? I had the servants prepare it earlier today.”

As much as I tried to get some privacy, I’d gotten stuck with a new mistress of the bedroom. Brinley refused to let that position die and when I returned to our tent, she rushed over to get me ready for bed.

The tent seemed very spacious for an ordinary four-person tent. “Isn’t this larger than a soldier’s tent?”

“Yes! I secured us a tent befitting-”

“-our station. Got it.” I didn’t feel like arguing with her and, reflecting on it, she’d won every single one thus far. Or, gotten everything she wanted. Huh. I was continually bested by a fourteen-year-old.

“You are just filthy tonight! Here, arms up,” Brin said, pulling the dress over my head and off my body. “All that riding, playing around in the dirt and sword practice. Why don’t we ride in a separate carriage and work on embroidery?”

“Brin,” I started, but she was smiling away, “you know I never asked you. You want to practice with me?”

“What, with swords?”

“Whatever you like.”

“Maybe the spear-sword. That’s a weapon for a lady.”

“Is it now?”

“It’s long and sharp and keeps the brutes away.” She plunged her sponge into our bucket and harshly rubbed the dirt off my face. “My aunt practices with it. She’s quite good. But, no, I don’t want to get all dirty training with you.”

“You know, I can do this myself. I’m like, not a child.”

“When you’re the princess, you’re always the child. Everyone’s favorite child.”

“You’re uncommonly happy tonight, Brin.”

“Well, I’m going home! The last time I traveled on this road was the last time I saw my parents, my room. I even miss my servants!”

“What about your uncle?”

She squeezed out dirty water into a bucket, “He’d make a good husband for you. And you a good wife for him. You’re an excellent match.”

Taken aback, I sat up straighter, “I’m not really looking to get married. Especially to a cousin.” I was hoping to get her assessment of the man, not a blind date.

“You’re second cousins at best. And he’s now got the largest army in the kingdom. It makes sense, with the Barclays likely to declare for themselves.”

“You think Sapphire will do that?” I was still having troubles processing that teenage girls didn’t just understand, but practiced, statecraft. Better schooling than the public system from my world!

“It’s not her. It’s her brother and the dowager and the church.” She ticked off on her fingers, “Saph’s brother will blame you for their father’s death. Two, the dowager will claim regency over the kingdom, no matter what the grand magister ordered. Three, likely a church army will be assembled against you, given that you killed one of their lead inquisitors and four, they’re going to amass a large army using the gold they stole.”

I was stunned. “How do you know all this?”

“It’s just obvious. It’s that or renew their pledges to you and accept your rule. Given her father’s course of action, and the dowager, I can’t see them acquiescing to your rule.”

“Yeah.” I sighed.

“Well,” she smiled, “once we get home, you can make arrangements with Duke Bechalle and send presents to Sapphire and,” she put mischievousness into her eyes, “an announcement. They’ll probably jump at the chance to pledge again to you.”

“Announcements? Gifts?”

“Announcement of the marriage!”

“Brin . . .”

“Just think about it. My uncle is a powerful man and marriage would legally eliminate the dowager’s position and claims.”

“Ok, ok, and the gifts?”

“Gifts?” She cocked her head, “why, gifts force a debt.”

“What? How’s that?”

“A gift demands an answer, a reply in kind. It binds the receiver to the giver. If you send them one, you’ll learn their intentions.”

I just blinked at her. “That . . . sounds like a good idea. You make an excellent mistress of the bedroom.”

“I know. And a wise councilor.”

“You’re too young to be wise.”

“And you’re too young to rule the kingdom.”