Mercedes Lackey - The Price Of Command

The man—Herald Dirk—raised his hand tentatively. “Your pardon, Majesty,” he said, when Faram responded to the movement by pivoting to face him, “but we haven’t got the faintest idea of what you have been talking about. Just what is this pledge?”

Faram turned back to Kero. “Well, Captain,” he said smiling a little crookedly. “It began with your grandmother and your Clanmother. Would you care to start?”

Kero cleared her throat, swallowed to give herself a moment to think, and began. “It all started—for my grandmother, at least—when she and her blood-oath sister Tarma joined Idra’s Sunhawks....”

In the end, she and Daren and Faram took turns explaining the entire story to the Heralds. It was Faram who ended the tale, saying, “—so as you can see, Rethwellan owes you what you came to beg of us. I have to admit that if the Captain hadn’t made the question moot, I don’t know whether I would actually have continued to allow you to remain in ignorance of that debt. I’ve been corresponding with my niece Elspeth, and she’s a charming child—but joining my country to yours in a war is not a step to make based on how charming one’s niece is.”

“But—” Talia began, when Faram held up his hand to interrupt her.

“My conscience, at least, is much happier with the secret out in the open, even if my coldly practical side is not. The real problem, my lady, is that the Rethwellan army is composed mainly of foot. That is why we hire mercenary Companies when we need other forces. Even if I could muster them, and start them off for Valdemar immediately, they couldn’t possibly be there before....”

He looked to Daren for his answer, and got it. “Spring Equinox, assuming we started on the road tomorrow,” Daren said promptly. And the Heralds’ faces fell again. “And there’s no way we can get them mustered and on the march for at least a fortnight, so they’ll arrive later than that. But—”

“But?” said three voices together, as the King raised an eyebrow.

“The Skybolts are mounted—and really, that’s exactly the kind of troops you of Valdemar need for the initial encounters. Skirmishers, experts in ambush and strike-and-run, anything to throw Ancar’s army off-balance and keep them that way. Kero knows warfare like—like no one except her Clanmother.”

He made a little bow in her direction, as she unaccountably blushed. Dear gods, blushing, and at my age! And not for a pretty little compliment, but because he says that I’m a better tactician than anyone but Tarma! Certainly shows where my priorities have gone !

“She may even surpass Tarma by now; it wouldn’t surprise me. Between the Skybolts, the Valdemar forces, and Kero’s knowledge of tactics, she can distract Ancar for long enough that we’d have a chance to come in to take Ancar’s rear. In fact, if I were the Captain, I’d lead them chasing wild hares all over the countryside and have them exhaust themselves to no purpose.”

Kero ran the basic plan in her head, and found that she liked it. “Huh,” she said thoughtfully. “I think it would work. Especially if we let them get just inside the Border enough so they think they’re winning, then lead them up along it. Frankly, Heralds, you’re better off with us; we get paid whether we win or lose, and we don’t have any national pride tied up with appearing to lose. You might have a hard time convincing your own troops to look like cowards, but my people have done it before, and accept it as good tactics. Daren, if you let me run them ragged, you’d probably make it to us at exactly the right moment. And he won’t be expecting you; he’ll probably be completely off-guard. I’ve only got one question— we didn’t make any pledges. My lords, my lady, we’re mercenaries, and we don’t work for free. Who’s paying our way?”

“We are,” said Talia and the King at exactly the same moment. They looked at each other, and laughed weakly.

“Split the fee,” Kero advised. “This is going to be a winter march for us, and winter marches don’t come cheaply.”

Talia nodded, somewhat to Kero’s surprise. “I’ve done my share of winter marches,” she said wryly. “I think I can guess what it will be like, going over mountains in a full Company in winter. We were told about you, Captain, and advised and authorized to hire you. That was our next job; to find you and negotiate. I hope you realize how rare that is.”

Eldan? Probably. How can I miss a man so much, when I spent so little time with him, so long ago? Well, whatever, he’s getting his wish; he’s got me coming up to Valdemar now. I’m just as glad the troops don’t know about him, or they’d be placing bets on the outcome of our first meeting. Blessed Agnira, I never thought becoming Captain would mean anything like that !

“I do understand, and I appreciate that this shows your confidence in me and mine,” she said, hoping her voice sounded businesslike and didn’t betray how shaky she felt.

Nods all around the table, and she found herself vowing silently that she would not let these people down. “First things first, since you trust my skill—let’s see if we can’t work out the actual logistics of this thing....”

“I can’t believe this,” Kero said out loud, watching from Hellsbane’s back as the troops rode past, out of the big double gates of Bolthaven and up the road to Valdemar. She shifted in her saddle, and Hellsbane shifted to match her. It was a good day for leaving; not too cold, under a bright-blue, cloudless sky. Good weather was a good omen, and soldiers are as superstitious as any man.

The Skybolts rode in march-formation; two abreast, which made for a long line, but as long as they were in friendly territory, it didn’t matter. It was quite an impressive sight, and the Company looked far larger than it actually was. Every one of them had at least one spare riding animal on a lead-rope behind him, plus his own packhorse. Those with longer strings rode at the head of the column; they’d be breaking the trail, and being able to switch to a fresh horse every time the ones they were riding got tired would keep the column slogging on at a much faster pace than anyone other than Kero guessed. That was one of the Skybolts’ tricks; they had more. A lot more. And in this campaign, they’d probably need every one of them.

“You don’t believe what, Captain?” Shallan asked, her breath puffing out of her hood in a white cloud. She and Geyr waited patiently beside Kero for the last of the column to move out. The other Lieutenants were spaced at roughly equal intervals along the column, so that there would never be an officer out of effective range to handle an emergency.

“I don’t believe them, ” she said, pointing her chin at the last of the column, passing out of the gates. Now the quartermaster and his pack-strings moved out. Ten years ago, Kero had made the decision that the Skybolts would have no wagons with them. If something couldn’t be carried horseback, it wouldn’t come with them. Some ingenious, lightweight substitutions had been arrived at, due to the quartermaster’s ingenuity. The tents, for instance, that could be packed twenty to a horse. New poles had to be cut each night, but it was worth it.

“There’s not near enough bitching and moaning,” Kero continued. “Here I am, hauling them out of cozy winter quarters for a midwinter march, a march across all of Rethwellan and over the mountains, and hardly a complaint out of them. What’s wrong?”

“They’re bored, Captain,” said Geyr. “Campaign ended early, they got all their resting out of the way—and half the winter yet to go. They wanted something to do. Besides, the money on this is worth a winter march, and it’s not like we’re having to cross enemy territory.”