Joel Shepherd - Haven

Now, if she could only corner Damon, and figure out once and for all who commanded the Army of Lenayin.

“We will send a delegation from the front,” said Rhillian. “We can appeal to their emotion. We have seen the crimes that unfold here, and we can foretell what further crimes shall come, to us and to them.”

“Who?” Kessligh asked.

“It must be me,” Rhillian replied. “The Ilduuri have never liked their Bacosh fellows, not those in the Saalshen Bacosh, nor those across the hostile border. They distrust Saalshen too, yet Saalshen at least retains access to Andal, and will be listened to. A senior of the serrinim must lead the delegation. It must be me.”

“Who will command the talmaad?” asked Rochan, with some alarm.

Rhillian levelled a finger at Errollyn. Errollyn stared back at her. Kessligh looked thoughtful. Then he nodded.

“Excellent choice,” he said. Errollyn said nothing.

“Aisha must come too,” said Rhillian. “As a scholar she is invaluable. Kiel's council too I value. And I will need warriors. I think it likely there is more than merely ideological differences holding the Ilduuri back. A general may have taken power over the council, or perhaps some other tyrant. We may need to fight.”

“I'll go,” said Sasha. All looked at her.

“Are you not in command of the Army of Lenayin?” asked Rochan.

“Prince Damon commands the army.” Sasha decided then and there. “He is better trained in large formations than I, many men are. I would do a good job, but others could do better. In the Northern Rebellion, I was surrounded by experienced warriors who did much of the thinking for me and presented me with decisions.”

“I too, even now,” said Rochan. “Your uman as well, I'm certain. Half the skill of good command is choosing able seconds and thirds. Admitting such a thing does not make a commander less capable.”

“Have no fear, General,” Sasha said with a smile, “no one who knows me would accuse me of modesty.” There were more smiles at that. “I merely speak the truth. Where I have true skill and experience is in irregular warfare. And politics. I will be more useful with Rhillian.

“My main purpose with the Army of Lenayin is as figurehead. But men do not need to see me here every day to know I am on their side. Staying here may cause complications, as not all the men of Lenayin love me and my pagan ways. Of Damon, there can be no dispute.”

Damon was watching her, grimly. Like Errollyn, he said nothing.

“She's right,” said Kessligh. “She has talent for command, but her primary strength is alone. She's wasted tied down to a large formation. She can also speak for Lenayin, and the example of an army of foreigners, who now fight to save Saalshen and her friends. She can be persuasive.”

Sasha caught Errollyn looking at her. Reunited for barely a moment, and now she was leaving him. Her look was apologetic. But she could see that he understood. If they were to have any future together, first they would have to win. That was all that mattered now.

The armies resumed their march, with the Army of Lenayin going first on the road, with lighter forces that would not churn the surface for those marching behind. The Lenays were exhausted, and fell out thankfully to camp that evening. As fires were coaxed from damp wood, Sasha watched Kessligh prepare vegetables with some spices for a traditional Lenay raal, and reflected how nice it was that there was no need for sentries tonight.

There was a jostle at the waterside amidst men and horses from various formations, yet from their banter, Sasha sensed the presence of something she had not felt from these men for weeks. It was not quite pride, she thought. The Army of Lenayin had split, its new king abandoned, with most of its lords and the three northern provinces in entirety. It was nothing to feel proud about. Yet there was an uprightness in the men, a confident determination, that had not been present even days before. She puzzled over it as she rubbed down several horses in turn.

When finished, she returned the horses to the nearest muster of animals on a grassy bank, and made her way through the camp. Lenays and Enorans sat together, sharing food and drink, and attempting communication. Sometimes there were serrin there to translate, and sometimes men found a tongue in common (usually Torovan) but often not. Yet somehow, it did not matter. Men gesticulated wildly, and laughed often, as attempts to make oneself understood became as entertaining as the substance of conversation itself. Sasha had often found it so in Lenayin, where barely a third of all peoples spoke the so-called common tongue. Sometimes, friendships between foreigners were easier without words in common, as all that came across was “friend,” expressed in a thousand different ways. These men were so happy, and so relieved to be friends, that it was a great joy just to move amongst them, and listen to their laughter.

At camp with Kessligh, Damon, Errollyn, and Rhillian, she sat and ate. For a while they discussed provisions, roads and weather, the drudgery of command that consumed so much time yet was never retold in the grand campfire tales. Then talk turned to the Ipshaal River.

“The Regent will cross opposite Verlin,” said Rhillian. “Several days’ march downriver from Jahnd, there are marshes between him and it. The Verlin tributary, it flows into the Ipshaal at that point and disappears into a bog. It can be skirted, and will delay his arrival further at Jahnd, yet he will not mind so much.”

“Damn,” Sasha murmured. “I had hopes for a riverbank defence.”

Kessligh nodded. If they could cross the Ipshaal first, and then defend the far bank as the Regent tried to follow, it could be a slaughter. But the bog that Rhillian described would prevent Jahnd's defenders from deploying in force on that portion of the riverbank, while all the Regent needed to do was find a single road to bring him onto firmer ground. Rhillian described a firm bank, with marshlands beginning just beyond. Any force defending that riverbank would be unable to make an orderly retreat across or around the marsh.

“Still tempting,” said Damon. “If he lands directly on the marsh bank itself, or on the edge of it to deprive us of defensive footing, we could deploy off to the side on firm ground, and trap him in the bog.”

“Maybe,” said Kessligh. “Or he could build a large force on the marsh bank, form a bridgehead defended by artillery so we can't get our own artillery close enough to use without losing it, and soon we'll get stuck in a nasty, muddy fight we can't retreat from, and even if we kill him at two or three to each one loss of our own, we still lose.”

“It's horrible terrain,” Rhillian agreed gloomily. “Nasty to assault and nasty to defend. He'll not be so considerate as to land within range of our artillery, but manoeuvring there is very difficult; he could build up a large force before we can make any position to attack it, and then not do all that much damage even when we do. The positive side is that he'll take weeks longer to land all his forces, and manoeuvre around the marsh to Jahnd. But winter is far away, he's not short of time.”

“And if we put all our forces on the opposite riverbank,” Kessligh added, “he'll just land a big force somewhere else. Boats are fast, and that part of Saalshen is wild, with forests and mountains alongside the marsh. We can't move fast enough to defend it against all the possible places he might land, and though it will make his movement a nightmare too, as Rhillian says, he has time. He'll build up a bridgehead somewhere, and then we still risk being stuck on the wrong side of the marsh when we have to retreat. I'd rather defend from Jahnd, where the terrain all favours us. Presuming we can actually get across the river ourselves,” he added, with a glance at Rhillian