Michael Stackpole - At the Queen_s command

but this evening it appeared to be a source of discomfort.

Discomfort the Prince had not seen reflected on Miss Frost's face.

Vlad led them straight to the model. The militia officer circled it. Fairlee had adopted a light green coat with buff facings and cuffs. Forest wore it well. Buff breeches and waistcoat matched, and he wore tall cavalry boots.

He took a good look, then sipped sherry. "And we have no idea how many troops will be opposing us?"

Vlad shook his head. "I am afraid not."

Caleb snorted. "Add one for that idiot, Rivendell."

The men chuckled, but Forest waggled a finger at his nephew. "Let that be the last time I hear that out of you, Caleb, or any of your boys, if you expect to be chosen to join my men. Ridicule erodes morale and discipline faster than the sun melts ice. As any veteran will tell you, when the cannons roar and guns thunder, you don't fight for country or leader. You fight for your friends in the ranks. If they don't understand the importance of standing with you, they won't, and you'll all die."

"Yes, sir."

The Prince pointed to the model. "Rivendell has one regiment of foot, one of horse, twelve guns, probably light. He couldn't recall the size."

"The man is an idiot, isn't he?"

Caleb laughed.

Forest raised an eyebrow. "Remember, when I say it, it is a judgment based on experience. I met him on the Continent a couple of times. He was insulting, short-sighted, and had an inflated sense of his own position in history. How is it he got this command?"

Vlad shrugged. "Correspondents of mine have hinted at a political fight in Parliament. The Foreign Ministry wishes to finish Tharyngia on the Continent and sees du Malphias as a distraction. Last year's campaign did not go well, and Rivendell was part of the reason why. Getting him away from Tharyngia is a way to give someone a chance at victory.

"The Home Office wants to protect Mystria to protect the Norillian economy. They point out that conquering New Tharyngia will destroy the Tharyngian economy and, ultimately, boost ours. Rivendell's enthusiasm for this venture made him easy to promote. Unfortunately, they underfunded and undermanned his expedition based on his manpower request. This leaves them sufficient resources to campaign on the Continent this year or next, regardless of what Rivendell does."

Forest turned to Owen. "I understand, Captain, that du Malphias indicated he wished to form his own nation?"

"Yes, sir. His fortress controls access to the west. Being south of New Tharyngia, it has better growing seasons. The rivers and lakes let it get furs and other trade goods out." Owen sighed heavily. "If he can get settlers in, he could achieve his dream."

"This was all in the report you sent to Launston, Highness?"

"Every word." The Prince finished his sherry in a gulp. "And every one was dismissed as fantasy."

"Amazing." Major Forest turned back to the model. "There is, of course, only one way to take this fortress. Surely you all see it."

Count von Metternin set his sherry glass in the middle of the ruined farmhouse. "It is not to begin the assault from here?"

"No." Forest tapped the cliffs with his hook. "Two companies of men, hand-picked men, approach the cliffs under cover of darkness. They scale up, use grapnels to get over the wall, then take the upper fortress. From there they command the interior and can use Ryngian cannons to knock out the other artillery batteries along the north wall. The rest of the troops stage here, to the north, and concentrate on this point nearest the cliff fort. Once in, du Malphias' stone wall works for them. They eliminate the central fortress and clean out the other forts."

"Are you certain, sir?" Owen frowned. "Those cliffs are quite sheer."

"I appreciate your perspective, Captain, but I'll differ with you. While I cannot climb with my metal hand, I have plenty of men who climb like squirrels. Here in the Northlands are dozens like them."

Caleb nodded. "The Bone brothers, Nathaniel, Twilight People, could all get right up there."

"We would arm them with two guns. They would have their rifles for accurate shooting, and shotguns for closer work. From what you have said, Highness, iron pellets, bits of nails, and the like would be effective against the pasmortes."

Vlad nodded. "Likely against other troops, too."

Owen drew closer to the model. "Shotguns would work well for cleaning out the warrens."

Forest nodded. For the first time since Vlad had begun work on the model, he felt hopeful. He had no doubt that taking the fortress would be a fierce and bloody affair, but prior to Major Forest's suggestion, the only solution seemed to be relentlessly pounding the fortress with cannon, then to throw men at it.

Which was exactly the sort of attack for which du Malphias had been prepared.

Doctor Frost circulated. He refilled the men's sherry glasses, then raised his in a toast. "To a Mystrian solution for a Mystrian problem."

They all laughed, then drank, the Prince included. As he set his glass down, however, he wondered if his Norillian problem would scuttle their solution.

Owen shook his head. "Rivendell will never allow this. Success would take away from his glory."

Count von Metternin smiled. "Do not be so dour, my friend. There is a way. I will suggest, perhaps, to Colonel Langford, that were I leading the assault, I would send a diversionary attack up the cliffs. I would use Mystrians. Keep them out of my way, you know, since they are not Norillians. I would give them a chance, but contain the danger. Langford will mention this to Rivendell. His lordship and I shall talk. I shall congratulate him on having had the same idea I did. Once he believes he came up with it, that I think it is brilliant- and that it will put an end to Mystrian complaints-he will adopt it."

Vlad smiled. "If it succeeds, it is his brilliance. If it fails, it is Mystrian weakness. Do you honestly believe Rivendell will fall for this?"

"He cheated to save himself two pounds, Highness. He thinks himself a military genius." Von Metternin smiled easily. "If I go and find Langford now, by noon tomorrow the plan will be set."

Forest laughed. "Then I think you should get to your work, my lord. I will get my quartermaster requisitioning the necessary arms, and we shall take a fortress."

Vlad closed the door to Government House as the Frosts, Major Forest, and Owen Strake left. Count von Metternin had headed out to find Colonel Langford, leaving him and Gisella alone save for servants. The Prince turned to her and bowed deeply.

"I cannot thank you enough, my dear. You made this evening delightful."

She moved to his side and slipped her hand inside his right elbow. "Though the social niceties were never of much interest, I am not ignorant of them. Your man, Chandler, has an excellent grasp of protocol. The rest is in making people feel important and, as you said, welcome."

"You do it very well."

"You are very kind." She paused, then stood on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. "And I notice a relief in you that has been absent since I first met you. Do I no longer make you nervous?"

"I think you always shall. No, my dear, I do not mean that in any bad way." Vlad glanced down, blushing. "When I see you, when you smile, I get that same flutter in my stomach that I did when we first met. And I feel hollow when you are away from me. That is a case of nerves, certainly, but one I would not be without."

She squeezed his arm, and his stomach fluttered.

"As for my relief, my darling," he continued, "it is because of Major Forest and your own Count von Metternin. Forest pointed out a way to take the fortress. The fact that it uses tactics you'd never see on the Continent means it could take du Malphias by surprise."

"But Rivendell will not approve." Gisella shivered. "He is an awful little man, your Johnny. He thinks you are a fool, but he is the fool. He did not even read your report. Please, Vladimir, promise me we shall no more have to entertain him."