Book 7, Chapter 14: War Plans, Inn Plans
Standing with my new generals in the war room. The stone walls were covered in plaster, and these were painted in all manner of combat scenes, from early chariots to phalanx regiments battling each other, and often wizards and wizardesses standing off to one side, faces in concentration. Serce had told me about Laemacia’s use of plaster for insulation, and it seemed to work. The room was cool, despite it being summer.
Facing the generals, thinking about all they’d told me, I broke the silence with, “To sum up the situation, which I would say is not well in hand, you’ve got the likely attack points fortified and guarded by phalanx and slingers, archers on the towers and high buildings. And Serce brought out the entirety of our war rhinos? Am I missing anything?”
“The rhinos are excellent in battle, and we have some thirty remaining but, my lady, they are not well suited for defense. They are powerful offensive weapons. And perform best with open ground. As such, we’ve been holding them in reserve.”
I filed that under the ‘desperate measures’ section of my brain’s filing system. Also, it disturbed me just how correct I was when I told Serce that he was weaker than he was letting on. I’d really wrecked these guys. “Offensive. That works. Gentlemen, I want battle plans for harassment attacks. If we can draw them into a location where the rhinos would be advantageous, we need to do that. Additionally, we should bolster whatever defensive positions we have near open ground with the war-rhinos.”
“Yes, my lady,” said the brown haired General Dareb. “I will scour the map and work out attack possibilities.”
“Great. Alright, where are the noble houses’ soldiers?”
“Requisitioned for this battle and on the front lines, my lady.”
“Ah.” Whoops. That meant a couple things. First and worst, we weren’t getting any more support. Looks like we had to make do with only twenty thousand men and change. Second, the nobles I ordered secured in the throne room might not actually know that I’d ordered that. They were probably already taking refuge there. It made sense. The merchants and commoners would likely be under lockdown, or at least, curfew, in their own residences. The palace would be used to protect the elite. Almost made me want to set fire to the throne room. That would take care of any power struggles if we survived this siege.
I’d return to the noble problem later and figure something out. Depending on the outcome of the battle, some houses were going to lose their military and, if their power depended on that, their influence and position. They could stay in the throne room a little while longer.
“Let’s return to the topic of their siege weapons. Have you built any of your own?”
“Like the leverage weapons they’re using? Yes, we’ve replicated them and have been throwing rocks at the enemy.”
“Levera . . . those are called catapults. Very easy to make. It’s just a piece of wood, a pivot, and some weight on the end. I want us to start producing a newer version of that. And, if we have the time and supplies, ballistae. Ah, let me borrow this quill.” After being passed an inkwell and dipping it in, I drew rough and dirty plans. “Here, this is called a trebuchet. This one,” draw, draw, draw, “is called a ballistae.” I passed the children’s drawings to the generals. “I want you to have the smiths make some rough ones today and we’ll put them into use.”
“A tre-bu-chet. Excuse me, is this netting at the top? And this other one looks like a flattened bow.”
“Like a sling. This is a giant sling that can hurl more weight than any human could, and faster. General Sostram, you were at the battle for the Bechalle Pass. If you remember the first day, my army used these,” I pointed at the ballistae, “against Otholos’ to great effect.”
He picked up the paper and examined it for a time. “We wondered how you were throwing such missiles at us.” Looking up to the other generals, a glint in his eye, “These can loose fair-sized tree trunks.”
After putting the trebuchet diagram onto the table, Blond Sasan put his index finger on it, “That’s a lot of metal. We are defending ourselves, surely hurling . . . trees at the attackers won’t help.”
“Not much, no. We’ll arm them with rocks, lead balls if we can make any. Hell, melt cutlery down or just crush it. These can be made into effective anti-infantry weapons.”
“Rocks and lead balls?”
I nodded. “Right. And this one, the trebuchet, I want smaller versions made. The large ones are basically giant slings. We’ll make smaller ones that are more like catapults, but throw stones and shot. I mean, stones and lead balls. The balls are called shot.” It really was more like a catapult, except that instead of a basket resting on the end of a plank of wood, it was more like a fishing net filled that would fling its missiles forward at great speeds.
“And these,” Sasan asked, “are in operation in your armies?”
“They are. General Abtin, I want you to take these to the smithies and get all possible people working on them. Hell, take some of those nobles and force them into labor.”
The generals gasped, including the elder Abtin. Nodding his head, he said, “Your will, God-Empress.”
I was about to tell them they didn’t have to call me that. Oh, I disliked honorifics! But, no, I really did need them not only to call me that, but to think it. “We need everyone working on these weapons.” Taking a deep breath, I spoke slowly and clearly, “You don’t need to force the nobles to work, but if you run out of laborers, do it. Start conscription on the commoners and nobles alike.”
“Ma’am, I apologize,” began Sorstram, waving his hand across the table, “but untrained combatants will not last long against soldiers.”
“I don’t mean to turn them into infantry, but to man these new weapons. They don’t require a lot of training and I don’t want to remove soldiers from frontline positions.”
“Ah. How many does it take to man one of these weapons?”
“Ideally, five. Four to load, set, and maneuver the device, one to loose. Trained crews can loose very quickly, but given that these will be crude, untested versions, we should expect that in any engagement, they will be one strike weapons.”
“Ma’am, I will see to it,” the scarred general said.
“Excellent. Two more points of discussion.” I walked from one side of the table to the other. “First, I need to send messengers. To my armies, to Serce, and to the enemy.”
Dareb crossed his arms, glancing over at Sasan. The blond general’s gaze was fixed on me, but I was looking at each general in turn to measure their acceptance. Abtin merely nodded in approval.
It was Sasan, whom I now marked as their leader, who spoke, “Your armies must be a week away, but that you have reinforcements guaranteed to come is most welcome. I take it we will be absorbed into your kingdom?”
“I am of Laemacian and Nevarrelund descent. Nevarrelund is now part of the Laemacian Empire. We are now a much, much stronger power.”
The generals visibly relaxed, letting out their breaths and Abtin even produced a smile. I suppose they were worried about how I’d treat them. Deciding to address that, I said, “I’m going to run things differently than your usurpers and emperors of the past. Gentlemen, this is a meritocracy now. Competence will be rewarded.” Resting my gaze on each of the men for an uncomfortably long pause, I took my time, letting the tension build up, and finally, eyes locked on Sasan, “Your positions are secure when you prove to me you are generals. When you lead men well and we not only survive but win this battle. I demoted Mazdak not for questioning me, but for laziness.
“We no longer have mages. Magic will not save us, it will not be decisive in this battle. It will be, in battles to come, and those will be worse, far, far worse than you can imagine, but not this one. This battle we win through blood, sweat, and tears.”
The men nodded, even their assistants.
“And messengers to the attackers, my lady?” asked Abtin.
“Yes, I want to talk to the enemy.”
“Parley, ma’am?”
“Yes.”
“Ma’am,” started Sasan, “I fear any attempt at parley will only encourage them to attack. Or attempt to capture you. As you said, their agent came for you in the harem. We may have more traitors in our midst than the former Lady Tienseon.”
“I aim to slow them down. To confuse them. Generals, I know what they want of me and I mean to exploit it.”
“Ah,” he nodded. “Your will be done, my lady.”
“Where are we to hold a parley?” asked Abtin. “We cannot allow the Empress to leave the city walls, and there are no open fields within the city.”
“There is,” Dareb sighed, “a place. In the old walls. Here,” he touched a medium sized building that straddled both sides of the old city wall, “It’s an ancient inn that has come to cross from the old city into the new. Criminals use it for smuggling and making deals away from the inspectors of the city watch.”
“You had me at inn. Criminals?”
“I’m sure they’ve fled, my lady. We’ve boarded the place up on this end, and barricaded it, so the enemy cannot easily attack through it.”
“This location sounds excellent.”
“Except that they have more forces. We’ll have to provide you with a strong guard, to prevent your capture.”
I smiled, glancing over at Mest, who nodded, “I will be fine.” I could take her and her entourage. Their ability was certain, though I’d probably be ok by myself. And I really should speak to the nuns alone, since I had yet to tell these men, and Mest, what the nuns wanted from me. “And that brings us to the next, and final, topic. Gentlemen, where is the mage, Talaren. I need to speak with him.” And guys, I thought to myself, no rush, it’s only about the end of civilization as you know it.
“He is located in the tower, my lady. It’s a secure location.”
I clapped my hands together, almost laughing, “You’re seriously holding a mage in a tower? And fail to see the irony here?”
“Ma’am?”
In stories and games, mages loved their towers. “Ah, it’s nothing. Why hold him in the tower, though?”
“Begging your pardon, my lady, the tower is the finest library in Laemacia. Mage Talaren requested that he stay there.”
“Oh! That’s perfect. I wonder if he’s discovered anything useful.”
“Ma’am?”
“Gentlemen,” I pointed at the map, “this is the agenda. Take my drawings to the smithies and get them started on building those weapons. If they have any problems, bring them to me. Next, I’ll write the messages we discussed, and I need them sent post-haste. After that, I want to visit Talaren. Then, hopefully, the enemy will want to parley.”
Without first looking at each other, something I was glad for, the generals bowed to me, with Sasan saying, “It will be done.”
It felt good. Finally, finally, my plans were in motion, and I wasn’t a harem slave waiting to be married off. And it would feel better, if not for the attackers hell bent on destroying my brand-new empire, the Others who must be closer to breaking out, and Serce, likely returning soon, thinking this was still his empire, and bringing a much larger force than I now commanded. If not for all those problems, I’d be satisfied with all I’d accomplished and take some time for myself. Maybe, just maybe, in an inn.
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