Parno's Destiny: The Black Sheep of Soulan: Book Two (16 page)

She wanted to serve. She wanted to do something, anything, to help her believe that she was serving.

“I do see,” Winnie nodded. “I still think it's not right,” she insisted. “But I can see that you're not going to help me, either,” she sighed. “I'm sorry I bothered you Miss Freeman. You have more important things to be doing than worrying with me. If you'll excuse me I need to get back to work.” The girl turned and was gone before Stephanie could think of anything else to say.

She hated for Winnie to think that she was denigrating her desire to serve because that was not the way of it. It was simply too great a risk, too much of a distraction for Winnie and other young women to be at the front, fighting.

Surely the girl would see the truth of it if she thought on it a bit longer. Shaking her head Stephanie turned back to the hospital. Winnie was right about one thing. Stephanie had a lot of work to do.

CHAPTER NINE

-

The trip from First Army's headquarters to the river fortifications in Shelby had taken Parno and his men nine days of hard riding. Nine days that Parno spent worrying over what was happening while he was out of communication with everyone else. He was going to have to find a happy medium where he could be centralized if for no other reason that so reports could find him.

He missed the days of being at Cove Canton, where his only problems had been the populace being angry at him for not allowing the soldiers to spend their pay in their establishments and keeping Darvo off his back about. . . .

Thinking of Darvo Nidiad brought a cloud over Parno as it always did. He missed the old man more with each passing day, yet there was no relief for that. He had to press on, more so now than ever before. He had no choice but to do so. In fact, he had very few choices left open to him these days.

“What bothers you, my Prince?” Cho Feng appeared suddenly at his side, having noted the change in demeanor, subtle though it was.

“Just thinking,” Parno replied as they moved through the city heading for Third Corps' headquarters at the river. “Too much of that gives me a headache.”

“About Colonel Nidiad, no doubt,” Feng once more showed his grasp of understanding his young charge. “It is ever painful to lose one's mentor, Parno,” he added softly. “You can but carry on as he would have had you do.”

“I know,” Parno sighed, nodding slightly. “It's not that all of you aren't good enough, Cho,” he added suddenly. “I couldn't ask for better people to be surrounded by in all this. It's just that Darvo. . . .” he trailed off, unsure of what he wanted to say.

“Raised you,” Cho said it for him. “He was your father in all but blood, Parno. Missing him is natural. It is not something to be unhappy about, ashamed of, or that needs to be put away. He earned your love and it is only proper that you still feel it. Do not let this upset you. Instead, remember the things he has taught you and you will do fine.”

Parno was stunned by the words, sounding so much like what Darvo had said from his death bed. Parno decided not to pursue the discussion as Third Corps' Headquarters came into their view.

General Raines and his staff were assembled outside, having been warned of his approach by courier. Parno stopped his horse several feet away and dismounted tiredly. His own staff and escort did the same, though the others remained mounted.

“Welcome, milord,” Rained said simply.

“Pleasure to be here, General,” Parno nodded, extending his hand. “Parno McLeod,” he said, quite unnecessarily.

“Sir,” Raines chose not to point that out. “Captain will you see the Prince's escort to their billet please?” he said to the man next to him.

“Sir,” the man nodded and looked to Karls.

“Major, the Captain will show you to our quarters,” Karls told Seymour.

“Sir,” the Major nodded and followed the Captain away, the Sheep following and leading the horses of the others. Berry and his men remained with the prince.

“General, can you bring us up to date on how things set here?” Parno asked. “And maybe rustle us up something to eat?” he added as his stomach growled.

“I'm sure we can feed you,” Raines fought a grin and looked to an aide who hurried away to inform the General's personal cook that he'd be cooking for the Prince today. Right now in fact.

“If you'll come in sir, I can show you our dispositions and give you a brief report on how things stand at the moment. Complete reports are available for you at your leisure, or that of your staff.”

Parno followed Raines inside. Unlike the field headquarters for First Army, this was Third Corps' permanent home and the furnishings showed it. Not that there was anything fancy or flashy about the building or its interior for it was utilitarian for the most part. But there was a sense of permanency here that a tent in the field couldn't carry off. Parno liked it.

“Our map room, sir,” Rained said as he led Parno into a large and well-appointed room. Parno halted at the door, surprised by the sight.

There were maps on every wall, which he'd expected. But there was also a detailed re-creation of the river valley on a larger table in front of him. Parno didn't know the scale, but it ran from BellMonte, Kent all the way to the coast of the Gulf of Storms. Small blocks of different colors littered the board in places.

“Our model of the zone, sir,” Raines said when he saw where Parno's attention was focused. “It reminds us of terrain and helps us keep the size of our area of responsibility in mind.”

“I'm impressed,” Parno nodded. “You did this yourself General?” he asked as he approached the model.

“Well, I had it done,” Raines nodded. “A man in my engineering staff designed and constructed the model.”

“I'd like to see him while I'm here,” Parno ordered and Raines knew he'd probably just lost the services of a very talented engineer.

“I'll see to it, sir,” he promised. “These block indicate our troop dispositions,” he pointed to one of the colored blocks. “Yellow is cavalry, blue is infantry, gray for mounted infantry. We use the same colors for suspected enemy dispositions, but those blocks are also half black, to indicate they are then enemy.”

“Nice,” Parno nodded, meaning it. He wished he had such a model for the Tinsee valley. And would soon, if that engineer was able to recreate his work here.

“So what are you facing, General, to the best of your knowledge?” he asked, turning to business.

Raines spent the next half-hour detailing the events along the river up to present, Parno nodding on occasion and only a few times stopping Raines for clarification or to ask a question.

Raines had held his own misgivings about the new Lord Marshal upon hearing of the change in command, but had reserved his opinion until he could form it himself. He was glad now that he had.

With two momentous victories under his belt, Parno McLeod had every reason and right to be cocky and proud, yet he exhibited no signs of either. He was patient, seemed intelligent, asked good questions and had the respect of some fine fighting men if the shape of his personal regiment was any indication. Raines had heard more than one story about the men following McLeod and they had all been good.

Nothing he saw in the young man before him now detracted from that in any way. Parno McLeod just might be all right as the Marshal, he decided.

“Is there any one area that gives you most pause, General?” Parno asked as the briefing came to an end.

“I can't say there is any particular area of itself, milord,” Raines shook his head. “Our main concern has been that the enemy would attempt to cross the river by boat and raise havoc behind us. We've not seen any attempt at that so far, but we do have observation posts all along the river to watch for that or any other activity.”

“Aside from that threat, the major concern of course is the bridge,” Rained indicated the span across the model of the Great River. “I have to say that I do not believe that the enemy intends to try and force a crossing, milord,” he added.

“What makes you say that?” Parno asked, and Raines could almost see Parno's mind working behind his eyes.

“They have made several half-hearted attempts at attacks, but none of them in any kind of force and all of them repulsed. I won't say easily repulsed, because they've been costly to us. Still, we estimate there are at least five divisions of Nor and Tribal horsemen across the river, supported by at least some artillery. They could certainly mount such an attack if they desired. I don't believe they do.”

“So what do you believe their goal is, General?”

“To hold Third Corps in place here while the war if fought on the front to the north,” Raines replied at once. “They know that as long as they are threatening, we can't afford to send even a single unit to aid First and Second corps. We can't spare them in case of an all-out attack or a river crossing effected by boat. So they threaten, they demonstrate, and we have to honor that threat.”

“Excellent,” Parno murmured as he nodded. “My thoughts exactly. Unfortunately, we can't afford to act on that because if we pull men away from you and they realize it, then this feint becomes a real attack. Success here would negate any gain we might achieve by utilizing some of your command further north against the field army.”

Raines was shocked by the rapid understanding the youngest McLeod demonstrated in his statement. He'd just summed up two hours of intelligence brief in one minute or less. And accurately, too.

“That's the way we see it, milord,” he nodded to cover his surprise.

“You've done a fine job here, General,” Parno said at last. “I don't believe that better could be asked of you or your men. Well done.”

“Thank you, milord,” Rained bowed his head slightly. Just then an aide returned and nodded to Raines.

“I think your meal is ready, milord,” Raines informed Parno.

“Join me then, General, and let's discuss your options, such as they are.”

*****

“There's always the option of destroying the bridge, milord.”

The meal was good. Roasted pig with potatoes and corn, probably all freshly pulled. Parno hadn't eaten this good in days and it showed in his enthusiasm. But that didn't keep him from shaking his head at Raines' suggestion.

“No, General,” he said between bites. “We will need that bridge one day.”

Raines raised an eyebrow at the statement but the Marshal offered nothing else on that front, instead turning to other concerns.

“Your patrols along the river seem effective. Have they been? Have you had any reports of raiding or other types of incursions? Any unexplained attacks or incidents?”

“No, milord, we have not,” Raines replied, shifting his thoughts back to the matter at hand. “Our patrols are not the only way we're watching, either. We have observation posts along the entire length of the river from here all the way to the coast.” Parno did stop eating at that, looking at Raines for amplification.

“Small detachments of five or six men, and in some cases women,” Raines explained. “They man spots along the river where crossing might be made easier. These positions are well concealed and can see for quite some distances with the scopes they have. If activity is noted, then two messengers are dispatched to the nearest cavalry post for assistance while the remainder of the detachment continue to watch. We have had many false alarms of course, but we check each one. The enemy only needs one success. We must always be successful.”

“True,” Parno nodded. “Women, you say?” he asked. “Serving directly or. . . .” He trailed off, unsure how to ask his next question, or even if it were necessary.

“They are considered paid irregulars, sir,” Raines admitted with only slight hesitance. “In some cases their husbands are serving at the same posts, or perhaps they are on active duty to the north. Some are younger women, rural in upbringing and just as capable as any man might be, at least for this duty.”

“I assure you I know some very capable women myself,” Parno nodded, thinking of Winnie Hubel and her ability with a bow. “I dislike the notion of their serving in combat, but in something like this I can't see the harm, especially if they are good at it.”

“They are,” Raines nodded firmly. “One post just south of here is in fact actually commanded by a woman,” he admitted. “The post is on her land and manned by her family and farm hands. Far better than the living conditions at some of the more distant outposts. They simply report for duty on a regular schedule, sharing the work between their normal activities.”

“Indeed,” Parno grunted. “I assume she does well?” he asked, leaning forward.

“She does,” Raines assured him. “Concise and well written reports, always on time and always careful to differentiate between what she actually sees and what she suspects. Honestly, if she were a man I'd have her commanding a scout company. She's very intelligent and obviously well-schooled. She probably wouldn't accept the pay cut, however,” he grinned.

“Noble?” Parno asked.

“No, but a large land owner,” Rained explained. “Raises cattle and row crops along with a large swine herd. This feast is compliments of her farm, in fact,” he indicated the table. “She inherited the farm as a girl when her father was killed by a bull. Has run the entire operation herself since the age of seventeen, in fact. She's a widow, now, but has two sons and a daughter, all of whom are just as smart as she is. One son is away with the militia at present, the other being still a year or so shy of the minimum age. He and the daughter help run the operation nowadays.”

“Interesting,” Parno mused. “She sounds like quite a woman. If time allows I'd like to meet her,” he said suddenly. Raines nodded as if he'd expected that.

“I'll ask her to come round tomorrow for lunch,” he replied.

“Excellent,” Parno nodded, looking to Sprigs who merely nodded and made a note in his ever-present notebook. He then turned back to Raines.

“Now that my stomach and backbone are not so close together, what say we have a look at the enemy, General?”

*****

Parno looked at the distant shore on the far side of the Great River. He had been here once before as a boy, one of the rare trips he had been allowed to accompany his father upon, but that had been long ago. He had decided as he grew older that his impression of the width of the river had been exaggerated by his own diminutive size. He had been wrong. The Tinsee was wide in places, even very wide in a few of those, but nothing like this. He wondered. . . .