Parno's Peril Page 21

  “That's great!” Parno looked as enthused as he had about anything in the last three days.

  “Parno, even if he recovers completely... I still doubt he will ever be able to serve you again.”

  “So long as he lives,” Parno made a pushing motion as if to ward away anything else. “I will miss his service and his companionship, but if he lives then if I have to give up the rest, I will. If nothing else, there will be administrative positions at Cove Canton he can fill. I will see him taken care of.”

  Stephanie smiled mentally as Parno swore to be loyal to those loyal to him. It was one of the things she loved about him, his dedication to those who helped him. Fate seemed determined to take those people from him one way or another, but still he was loyal.

  “I'm sure he will appreciate that,” she said instead of touching his face as she wanted. “I think I'm going to continue my survey of the army's hospital corps while I'm here seeing to his care. I've been very impressed by them so far.”

  “If you encounter any difficulty at all let me know at once,” Parno nodded. “I appreciate your doing that, as well. It's a huge help to my men.”

  Always thinking about others. Always.

  “I'm glad to do it, Parno,” she smiled. “I will be back to check on him after lunch.”

  -

  “We're mounted and ready, sir,” Walters reported. Runners from Coe and Vaughan reported the same.

  “Change of plans, Walt,” Allen said suddenly. “Send runners to Coe and Vaughan to bring their troops this way. We'll all take the southern route home with the wounded and wagons. We've left a pair of nasty surprises for the Imps, so there's no point in ruining that. We've accomplished our orders. We'll be satisfied with that.”

  “Yes sir,” Walters nodded and turned to send those orders out by runner. Once that was done they would move out for home.

  -

  General Darin Westcott was no more thrilled with his orders than either of the first two generals sent on this snipe hunt. A three day forced march to a map dot, relieve the division already there and then hold until relieved. If the plan followed the established routine that would be about three days, give or take.

  Westcott's 14th Infantry had departed from their place in line early that morning, amid a great deal of cursing and kicking. Why his unit had been given this honor he didn't know, but orders were orders. This road was pretty narrow, being a minor trade route. Worse, he and his men would at some point encounter that idiot Taylor's 16th Infantry and have to share the road with them as they passed each other.

  Wonderful.

  -

  Despite his worry over Harrel and his guilt over Jaelle, Parno did have work to do. He made his way over to the series of tents and buildings that made up the Army Headquarters and found General Davies and Enri Willard pouring over maps and reports.

  “So, have the Nor surrendered yet?” he asked, trying to be humorous.

  “No sir, I'm afraid not,” Enri snorted in amusement. “Scouts have reported that their cavalry have made it as far north as Lovil, where they appear to have encamped for the time being. Many of their men are sick and will remain that way for some time I'm sure.”

  “That's what I hear,” Parno nodded. “What else?”

  “Another infantry division on the move at daybreak this morning,” Enri replied, passing the report to his Marshal. Parno glanced at the report before handing it back.

  “Headed the same way, I see,” he looked at the map.

  “What are they up to with that?” he asked aloud. “Still think it's an exercise, General?” he asked Davies.

  “I do, sir,” the older man nodded. “It fits all the data we have. They've been in camp for a long time and moves like this are the ideal way to keep their men in shape. More importantly, it keeps their general officers off balance as well.”

  “I see,” Parno nodded, getting an idea of what Davies was thinking. “You think their generals are getting mouthy. Or antsy.”

  “Or both,” Davies nodded. “This gives them a lot less time for that foolishness.”

  “So, it does. Well, so long as that keeps them moving in any direction but south, maybe we should be grateful.”

  “I'm tempted in that direction myself, sir,” Davies voice was non-committal. Parno frowned at that.

  “General, is there something you'd like to share with the rest of us?” he asked. Davies seemed to be weighing his thoughts before giving a deep sigh.

  “General Allen was given orders to eradicate the first two infantry divisions that went on this exercise, milord,” he said rather formally. “Those orders were issued after the attempt on your life, in conjunction with other projects designed to show our... displeasure, with the Nor attempt to kill our Marshall. Sir.”

  “What other projects?” Parno asked. “Or do I want to know?”

  “I doubt it,” Davies admitted. “Cho Feng and the man called Tinker were the ringleaders, along with Mister Parsons and a good many of his men.”

  “No, I don't want to know,” Parno admitted with a sigh of his own. “We'll just pretend I don't know. Agreed?”

  “Of course, sir,” both men replied. Enri looked curious but would try to find out on his own.

  “What do you expect to happen due to Allen's actions against their infantry?” Parno asked Davies.

  “Nothing,” Davies replied. “If things went as planned, there will be little enough left for the Imperials to work with. I expect them to take a day or two still to realize what's happened. And when they do, I rather think they will leave well enough alone, at least for now. They think time is working for them when in fact it's working against them. Every day they wait is another day our men get to train. And not just the men here or at Cove Canton, but the new men training at Red Rock. Six divisions of men, all receiving the same conditioning that your original regiment received if not the same martial skills.”

  “Well, that is a start,” Parno nodded. “We'll see what happens I guess. Any word from Raines?”

  “Shelby front is quiet since the show of cavalry leaving their front headed north,” Davies shook shook his head. “Again, looking more and more like a ruse.”

  “We have to keep our wits about us, though,” Parno warned. “If we allow ourselves to get used to these ruses, then one of them, sooner or later, will be real.”

  “We're watching, sir.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  -

  “Sir, there are riders approaching.”

  Therron raised his hand to halt his small column of men, waiting for the Coastal patrol to reach them. The young lieutenant slowed considerably when he saw the uniforms of the men in Therron's group. He halted his men perhaps a spear’s throw from Therron signaling them into line abreast.

  “Who are you?” he asked cautiously.

  “I am Prince Therron McLeod of the House McLeod, ruling dynasty of the Kingdom of Soulan,” Therron replied. “I would like to be taken at once to see Governor Charleston. Without delay,” he added when the men didn't offer to move.

  “I can take you to my commander,” the lieutenant offered. “After that it will be up to him. You and your men will follow me,” he ordered. He signaled to his sergeant who took half their men and fell in behind Therron and the rest.

  “Follow us,” the lieutenant repeated, and with that lead off. Therron sighed dramatically but did as he was bid. This would take a bit, but he knew the drill. He would have to see this man's captain, and then likely a colonel, and finally a general who would probably recognize Therron, which would speed things along.

  At least the food and accommodations would improve at this point.

  -

  “Bow lines down and fast!”

  “Stern lines down and fast!”

  Commodore Anthony David listened as the calls came one after another that signified that the Ocoee was now moored fast in her berth at Savannah. The other ships in his squadron, now including the Halifax and her escorts, were also mooring. The ship
yard was as busy as David had ever seen it. Between repairs on those ships deemed salvageable and new construction to replace their losses the entire area was a bee hive of activity.

  “Bring him up,” David ordered his Marine commander, a Major. The man nodded and repeated the order to those below. Soon Commodore Anthony Chastain was brought on deck in irons. David was offended by the fact that this traitor shared his first name, but there wasn't anything he could do about that.

  “Take him ashore,” David was suddenly very tired. “Place him in the brig until Admiral Semmes has time to deal with him. We’ll have to build gallows, I guess,” he added thoughtfully.

  “You think it will be that easy?” Chastain demanded. “I was following a lawful command!”

  “No, you weren't, and you knew it,” David replied calmly. “Take him before I kill him myself,” he ordered. The marines half pushed, half carried the still chattering Chastain off ship and down the pier.

  “I think he's cracked,” Jonathon Riddell said softly. “I mean, here,” he pointed to his head.

  “He may be,” David admitted as he made an entry into his personal log. “We'll see what happens I suppose. I have to finish my report to the Admiral and then get it to him.”

  “We managed to get him off the ocean and bring three undamaged ships into port, sir,” Riddell reminded him.

  “And missed the opportunity to put an end to Therron McLeod and the threat he represents to the crown,” David nodded. “Yes, we really did a bang-up job.”

  Riddell had nothing to add to that.

  -

  “Commodore this report has you accepting responsibility for everything other than the war itself,” Semmes said a few hours later as David stood before him. “Will you for God's sake relax and sit your ass down?” the admiral demanded.

  “Sorry sir,” David sat.

  “You were given an impossible mission that shouldn't have even been necessary to start with, Anthony,” Semmes said more calmly. “The fact that you managed to capture Chastain and bring his ships in is nothing short of a miracle. I note that most of his officers seemed to be cooperative?”

  “I don't think the Captains of the Seadragon or Seasnake even realized what he was doing,” David nodded. “While his people on the Halifax figured it out eventually, as Hart pointed out, knowing it and proving are two different things. They had essentially committed an act of mutiny when they refused to follow Chastain's orders to continue to run.”

  “That is true,” Semmes nodded. “All of that will come out in the court martial. As it is, we have more than enough men to man those ships and we need them, so it will work out. I think for now we will leave the prize crews in place unless any of them want shore duty while we're working up new and repaired ships. Meanwhile, we'll keep the current squadron close by. This place has to be protected at all costs until the fleet is rebuilt. I want this… ” he handed David's report back, “…rewritten in a way that relays the facts without your taking blame for everything from the wind direction to the sea currents. Get it back to me by tomorrow.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  -

  “I am-”

  “I heard you the first time,” the Coastal Captain said, raising a hand to stop Therron's saying it again. “That doesn't change the fact that it's a five-day ride to where my Colonel can take you off my hands. And while he may can get you to the Governor, there's no way that I can do it. So, you and your men make yourself comfortable tonight and tomorrow I'll have a patrol take you to our regimental headquarters, where I feel sure my Colonel can take care of your needs. Sir.”

  Seeing there was no reason to argue, Therron merely nodded and followed the young enlisted man who guided him to a small cottage used for visiting VIPs. It was at least more comfortable than sleeping against a tree in the forest.

  “If you need anything sir, just ask,” the young corporal said. “Mess is in one hour, sir.”

  “Thank you,” Therron forced himself to be polite. He was still a long way from where he wanted to be. “I appreciate it.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  -

  It was dark. So very dark. No, his eyes were closed, that was it. His eyes were closed even though he was awake? That didn't make any sense. There was something he needed to remember, but what was it? For some reason he thought of horses. Was it something about cava-

  “Horses!” Harrel thought he shouted but only muttered

  “What?” an orderly snapped to attention. “Did he say something?”

  “Horses,” Harrel repeated. “Wrong... wrong horses...”

  “Get Lady Stephanie right now!” the young physician on duty demanded at once. “Tell her he is awake for the moment!”

  -

  Stephanie ran to the tent, led by the young orderly. She darted inside to find Parno already there but standing out of the way. She went at once to Harrel who was fighting to get up.

  “Stop it Harrel,” she told him at once. “Harrel!” she snapped and he stopped, eyes focusing slightly.

  “Lady Stephanie?” he mumbled. “What are you doing here?”

  “Trying to keep you alive, Harrel,” Stephanie patted his jaw tenderly. “You've given us quite a scare.”

  “The horses are wrong,” he said suddenly.

  “What?” she couldn't understand. “What do horses have-”

  “The couriers,” Harrel told her. “They're riding the wrong horses. They're not real couriers. Tell the Prince the couriers aren't real.”

  “Harrel,” Parno spoke gently and Stephanie started as she hadn't realized Parno had moved so close to her. “Harrel, I know about the couriers, thanks to you. You saved me, Harrel. You were hurt very badly but you saved me. You can relax, alright? Relax and rest because you did your job wonderfully well. You protected me when I couldn't do it myself.”

  “My Prince,” Harrel's voice was muffled. “Greatest honor, my Prince. To have served... you... Colonel Darvo said keep... keep tha... that idiot al... alive...” Harrel's voice trailed off at that and Stephanie checked him over.

  “He's just sleeping,” she said finally. “Not unconscious, just sleeping. His subconscious has been trying to get you the message about the horses all this time and now that he has, he can rest.” She looked up at Parno. “What does he mean?”

  “Royal Couriers use some of the best horses anywhere in the Kingdom,” Parno explained. “Two of the three who tried to kill me were riding horses that wouldn't make the cut for a cavalry unit, let alone a Royal Courier. That must have been what first tipped him off. He saw their horses.”

  “Remarkable,” Stephanie shook her head.

  “More than,” Parno agreed. “I will miss him sorely. But at least he will live. Right?” he asked her.

  “He should,” she nodded. “His regaining consciousness even briefly is good. Very good, really.”

  “That's a relief,” Parno exhaled deeply. “There's been enough loss. Getting someone back like this is a blessing.” He stood up and walked outside the tent suddenly, leaving everyone else behind.

  “Keep watching him, but I think we should start to see some improvement,” Stephanie ordered. “Start the physical therapy on his legs and arms, but be very slow. All we want is to work the muscle groups, nothing else.”

  “Yes, milady.”

  Stephanie followed Parno out of the tent only to find that he had already disappeared among the moving bodies outside. Sighing in defeat, she returned to her own tent, her escort close around her. She found Edema lying across her bed, reading.

  “How was he, dear?” Edema looked up from her book.

  “He was awake for a good five minutes,” Stephanie reported, removing her shoes and lying down across her own bed. “It's a wonderful sign, really. He is improving. I'm prepared to say he will almost certainly recover.”

  “That is great news,” Edema sounded wistful. “We need some good news.”

  “Indeed.”

  -

  Parno visited Army H
eadquarters again, where he had established a small temporary desk to deal with the things that he couldn't delegate to Davies or Enri. He resisted the idea of selecting a new secretary, though why he wasn't sure. He just did.

  He spent an hour reading and signing bureaucratic nonsense that every military organization seemed to run on, mostly dealing with large expenditures of funds for everything from beef on the hoof to training equipment and supplies. All needed and yet for some reason all requiring his signature of approval. He needed to do something about that. Maybe a brigadier's post. Brigadier in Charge of Bullshit Paperwork. He snorted aloud at the title. It sounded funny anyway.

  He looked up to see everyone looking at him in puzzlement.

  “Just thought of something funny, that's all,” he assured them. All returned to work, unwilling to risk asking what it was that had tickled the Prince's funny bone.

  Parno finished the rest of his paperwork in silence.

  -

  General Westcott was already in an ill mood when his column came to a staggering halt in the middle of the road they were following.

  “What now,” he mumbled to himself as he and his aides rode forward. At the head of the column he found the commander of his lead brigade and the leader of his scout and picket force in conference.

  “What in the bloody devil is going on?” Westcott demanded.

  “Sir... sir you should come and see,” the captain that led the picket detail stammered. “Begging your pardon, but... you really need to see this.”

  “Well, then lead me to it so we can get back moving,” Westcott sighed. His people were not prone to panic so whatever this was, it was probably important. He followed the captain, the brigadier falling in uninvited and without orders, but Westcott didn't mind. It was a short ride, less than a quarter mile over a small rise. The captain halted at that point and sat waiting.

  “Well?” Westcott demanded. The captain raised an arm and pointed. Following the point, Westcott saw ...

  “Is that one of ours?” he asked.