Parno's Destiny: The Black Sheep of Soulan: Book Two (25 page)

We probably won't win the battle
, David thought to himself with macabre satisfaction,
but we just might win the war, now.

The Royal Navy had done her bit. It would be up to the Black Sheep Prince now.

*****

“David is really taking it to them, sir!” Nettles said. “Three, no five transports sunk and another damaged! Two of David's frigates appear to have rammed and are now turning away, listing.”

“So I see, Mister Nettles,” Semmes nodded. “Is there any-”

“Signal from
Ocoee
, sir!” Nettles interrupted. “Transports are empty Admiral! There are no troops! Signal being repeated by all Keyhorn ships in view! We've done it sir!”

“Signal the cutters at once with orders to return at best speed with their orders,” Semmes said at once, a sense of urgency creeping into his voice. “Nothing is to stop them. Nothing.”

“Yes, Admiral!” Nettles snapped and ran to obey. He would need to hurry, Semmes decided, looking forward.
Wabash
was about to throw her own weight around, and her target was not a transport.

An Imperial cruiser loomed large to their fore, broadside exposed.

“This should be interesting,” Semmes decided as the command to brace passed along the ship.

*****

“Hard to starboard! Engage port rowers, push!” Merrill shouted, trying to maneuver
Indina
out of the path of the coming Soulan cruiser. Selvey's orders had left Merrill's ship exposed in the most amateurish of ways and now Merrill and his men were about to suffer for it.

“We're not goin' ta make it, sor!” the helmsman offered in his thick brogue. “Rudders right heavy!”

“So I see,” Merrill nodded, suddenly calm. “Brace!” he called. “Brace for impact and prepare to repel boarders!” The call was picked up by others and ran the length of the ship.

“Best hold on to something Spivey,” Merrill told the helmsman. “This will probably hurt.”

*****

Selvey wasn't looking when
Wabash
crashed into
Indina
's starboard side. He was concentrating on the battle to save the transports and had forgotten to watch the battle line. Merrill would have been doing that for him had he not been sent away, but he had, and Selvey had appointed no replacement for him.

As a result, the blow took him completely unaware. He had ignored the Bracing call, so occupied he had been with bellowing at the signals officer with constantly changing and often conflicting orders.

And so it was that Admiral Jason Selvey suffered a severe whiplash as
Indina
was rocked violently by the ramming action of the Soulan cruiser
Wabash
. His neck severely injured, Selvey was unable to right himself, or prevent his being catapulted into the waiting ocean beneath him. His lungs, already robbed of air by the blow he'd taken in the initial ramming, were empty when he hit the water, robbing him of any buoyancy.

He never resurfaced and there was no one to help him as he sank into the depths of the ocean.

*****

The battle raged for over an hour, weapons still firing whenever they could be loaded and find a target. Archers fired and fired and fired until the barrels of bolts and arrows went dry, sweeping decks of enemy ships clear time and again, only to see sailors and marines from below take the place of those just slaughtered.

Wooden decks were slippery with blood as ships lost their momentum and were forced to engage oars or 'tack' into the wind in order to move. The butcher's bill for this unnamed sea battle would never truly be fully known as men fell into the sea never to be seen again or fell with horrible injuries received either at the hands of the enemy or from the kind of crushing that accompanied a close fought naval engagement such as this one.

Semmes, blood streaming from a cut on his forehead and cradling his broken and useless left arm inside his tunic, surveyed the scene, sick at heart for the loss of so many of his men and ships.

“Mister Nettles!” he called, only to have an unknown lieutenant appear in front of him.

“Beg pardon, Admiral, but Mister Nettles is gone, sir,” the young man stammered.

“I see,” Semmes fought off the wave of sadness that enveloped him at that news. “Are we capable of signaling, Lieutenant. . .”

“Taylor, sir,” the young man supplied. “And yes sir, I believe so, sir.”

“Then signal for all ships to disengage and make for shore bases as best they can,” Semmes ordered. “Order every ship that can to repeat and relay those orders.”

“Right away, sir!” Taylor snapped and hurried off to get the word out.

Semmes could only guess at his losses, but he knew that the Soulan Royal navy was essentially destroyed. True, the Gulf Squadron was not involved in this action, but her two cruisers and nine frigates were no match for a true combat squadron, the Gulf ships more concerned with smuggling and pirates than with invading Imperials.

Semmes had taken fifteen cruisers and twenty-one frigates into this battle. Not a single ship was undamaged. Many were already gone, sinking beneath the depths of the ocean. The
Wabash
was still afloat but was listing slightly and had suffered twice from fires. Other ships were either equally damaged or worse off than his flagship.

Semmes counted a few hulls, but stopped as he realized his fleet had lost at least twenty vessels. Twenty ships completely gone, many taking a large part of their crews with them.

Crews. That made him think of the men in the water, the men still on board ships that would not be able to make enough way to escape. Their fate was as sealed as if they were already beneath the waves.

But he could not save those men. They were beyond his help at the moment, and probably for all time. All he could do was save what he could of his command. His men and ships had accomplished their mission. The cutters carrying the message to Lord Parno were long out of sight, making their best speed for shore with the news of what he had paid so dearly to learn. What his men had paid so dear a price to know.

He continued to watch as
Wabash
heeled around, making toward Savannah. She might make it or she might not, Semmes didn't know. He did know that many berths at Savannah, Jackson and Minimi would be empty for a long time to come.

But at least now the troops held motionless by the threat of this Imperial fleet could move north. Semmes hoped it was worth it.

He really, really did.

He would not realize it when he lost consciousness and fell to the deck.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

-

Parno and his men made their way into Nasil without fanfare, just ahead of dusk and nearing exhaustion. Moving at once to the barracks near the palace, Parno's men were met by members of the Palace Guard and the King's own, men moving to take over the care of tired horses for the tired men who had ridden them.

Parno made his way to the palace without pause, trailed by Enri Willard, Cho Feng and Harrel Sprigs. Memmnon was already in the council chamber when Parno arrived, having been made aware of his brother's arrival minutes before.

“Hello, Parno,” Memmnon smiled slightly, embracing his younger brother slightly. “You look worn out.”

“Nearly so,” Parno admitted with a nod as he sat down heavily. He looked to where the others waited.

“Well, sit down,” he ordered and the three took seats of their own, Parno shaking his head at their hesitation.

“How are things in the west?” Memmnon asked, settling into his own chair.

“Raines has done an excellent job,” Parno said at once. “One reason I'm here so quickly. He has no need of me there. Well, he did have one issue that I solved for him,” Parno amended, “but he needs no assistance in keeping the Nor at bay. He's fine.”

“I'm glad to hear that,” Memmnon nodded. “We also received word of your victory at Dreeden,” the elder McLeod frowned. “Parno, you simply cannot continue to take such risks. Not at a time like this. We absolutely cannot spare you-”

“I've already had this lecture,” Parno cut him off with a raised hand. “Multiple times, in fact,” he shot a glare at his trio of followers. “That was a necessary risk I took. And no, I like as not won't be doing it again. I've too much to do elsewhere. But we needed a victory to raise the army's morale and set the Nor back on their heels. We got it.”

“Yes, a very great victory by any standard you care to apply,” Memmnon nodded. “Well done, brother. Well done. I was not criticizing your actions as much as your risk.”

“I was never in any danger,” Parno rolled his eyes.

“The after action reports indicated that your regiment was involved in combat with Tribal cavalry!” Memmnon objected.

“Not with me leading them,” Parno replied. “That was Karls. Outnumbered probably three-to-two or so at that. Caught them flanking the rearguard and tore them limb from limb.”

“Really?” Memmnon leaned forward, his eagerness apparent as he seemed to forget his 'lecture' to his younger brother.

“Really,” Parno nodded firmly. “Our men are their equal or perhaps their superior, with the training regimen that Cho Feng and. . .and Darvo developed for the Black Sheep.”

“I understand you have a new group undergoing that same training now?” Memmnon asked.

“Yes, a full brigade of cavalry,” Parno replied. “They should be well under way by now, but it's not a quick process. It should go faster for them since they have basic instruction already behind them. That will speed things along. Also, many of the Sheep had to learn horsemanship which is something else that won't be a problem.”

“As we train new instructors, we'll be extending the ground training to infantry units as well,” he finished. “Again, not a rapid process, but one well worth the efforts.”

“You proved that at the Gap,” Memmnon nodded. “Your man Finn has been working almost non-stop since his arrival, by the way,” the Crown Prince changed the subject. “We've provided him with everything he's asked for and given him the old foundry south of the city proper. He requested something out of 'blast range' of the city and its occupants. I am not familiar with that term, to be honest,” he admitted.

“Many of Roda's toys can be. . .explosive, I think, is the word we use to describe them,” he looked to Sprigs for confirmation and received a nod. “The damage his inventions can cause is somewhat mind boggling, to be honest,” he returned his attention to his brother.

“These are the 'sorcery' you used at the Gap, I take it,” Memmnon grinned at the term.

“I've heard that the Nor describe it so,” Parno grinned back tiredly. “Truth is it's nothing but pure science. Practices of the ancients that Roda and others like him have dug up from the ruins.”

“Yes, such as the. . .semaphore, I think the term was, towers and signals. We're still consulting with the Royal engineers about their construction, but I admit it looks promising. Learning the signals may require some degree of schooling, but the theory is very intriguing. If successful it could literally transform the way important information is passed.”

“We'll need to guard the codes closely,” Parno warned. “Only the most loyal and trustworthy of men should be given that training.”

“A sound suggestion,” Memmnon agreed. “I will see to it. What are your plans now?” he asked.

“I will sleep tonight,” Parno laughed dryly. “Tomorrow I will see Roda Finn. I have an engineer I stole from Raines that I will want to confer with the Royal Engineer Corps for information. He constructed a model of the Great River for Raines that is an excellent tool with many uses, not all of the military. I want him given whatever he needs to construct such a model of the Tinsee Valley, and eventually the Ohi as well. Once we've cleared the Nor from our lands, we will develop a new military command for that area and such a model will be beneficial for the commander there.”

“I received your orders combining 1
st
and 2
nd
Corps under Davies' command,” Memmnon mentioned. “How did Graham respond to that? He was one of Therron's favorites, you may know.”

“He made that apparent,” Parno nodded. “General Graham and I reached an understanding. He will respect my authority and show his loyalty to the King, and as a reward for doing so I won't kill him.”

The words were spoken flatly, a simple declaration. From his tone, Parno might just as easily have told him brother that he'd acquired a new horse.

“I see,” Memmnon settled for saying. “I'm sure that will work for now,” he added for lack of anything else to say.

“If it doesn't, I'll destroy him and place someone else in command of 1
st
Corps,” Parno shrugged as if it were of no consequence. “I have organized a new unit that should already be behind enemy lines, harassing their lines of communication. Since it's nowhere near harvest, the Nor must depend on supplies from their lands to sustain them. Beaumont and Whipple will interdict those lines when and where possible, while also destroying isolated units they encounter.”

“A sound strategy,” Memmnon nodded.

“It is my hope that their actions, along with the successful attack we launched before I departed, will stall their offensive long enough to prepare offensive movements of our own. At the least it should, hopefully, give Roda more time to resupply our artillery and train them to use their new weapons.”

“You believe you will be able to launch an offensive?” Memmnon asked, surprised.

“If Admiral Semmes has been successful, or will be at any rate, then yes, I will,” Parno replied. “I will be bringing both 4
th
and 5
th
Corps north, save for some militia units that will patrol the shores and the southern leg of the Great River. With their strength added to 1
st
Army, yes, we will launch an attack. I'd prefer, in all honesty, to absorb a Nor offensive using Roda's weaponry before we attack, but I've no idea if that will come to pass. We will have to see what happens.”

“A bold gamble, brother,” Memmnon kept his voice neutral. He did not want Parno thinking he was interfering with the youngest McLeod's running of the military.

“We have to gamble, Memmnon,” Parno shrugged. “We face two large forces to our North and West. If we do not consolidate our forces and try to dislodge them, then protecting the coast will be of no use to us. We need to push them back, and then punish them.”

“Punish them?” Memmnon's eyebrow rose at that.

“That is for later, and assumes we will be victorious,” Parno waved the idea away for now.

“What do you need from me?” Memmnon asked.

“Continue to support Roda and the others in his group,” Parno said at once. “The things they uncover will be priceless to us, both in war and in peace. They need and deserve our support.”

“They have the full backing of the Crown, and each has two Royal Marshals in attendance to ensure they get whatever they need,” Memmnon promised. “Finn has objected to the number of women working in the Foundry, but he understands that we lack the men to fill all the positions he has, or that others have. Our women are strong and independent, and many have demanded to be allowed to assist in the war effort. It seemed beneficial not to deny them.”

“Not to mention keeping certain of the noble women happy,” Parno grinned.

“That too,” Memmnon grinned sheepishly. “And honestly, Parno, they are doing excellent work. There's no good reason to prevent them from serving in these roles.”

“I agree, and have given orders to include women in the observation and warning posts along the river and the coastlines,” Parno replied. “I would also expect to see women medics soon, if Stephanie has her way.”

“'Stephanie', is it?” Memmnon grinned broadly at his brother, who flushed.

“Memmnon,” he said warningly.

“Just making an observation, brother,” Memmnon raised a hand in placation. “Well, your apartments are ready for you,” he rose. “You and your men should rest. If there is a need, let me know and I will see to it.”

“Thank you.”

*****

Sherron McLeod watched from the shadows as Parno departed the conference room, leading his foreigner and other lackeys along. Including the traitorous Enri Willard who had once been so close to her cherished brother, Therron. As Memmnon emerged behind them, Sherron set upon him.

“So it is true,” her voice cut across the hallway. Memmnon turned to see her standing there.

“What is true?” he asked. “What brings you out so late, sister?”

“Father has replaced Therron with Parno?” Sherron asked, eyebrows climbing high on her head. “Where is Therron, by the way?”

“Therron has been sent away Sherron,” Memmnon told her flatly. “He defied the King one time too many and is paying for it now.”

“Defied him? How?” she demanded. “We're at war and he replaced his Marshal with Parno of all people? Has father lost his senses as well as his courage?”

“Mind your tongue!” Memmnon snapped, somewhat more harshly than he'd intended. “And where do you get the idea that our father has lost his courage, sister? That is perhaps the most ridiculous thing you've ever said. Given your track record, that is making a statement all its own.”

“Father feared Therron and so did you!” Sherron accused. “Both afraid that his popularity among the nobles and the army would make him more powerful than you! So you contrive to have him removed and 'sent away'!”

“Sherron, I must assume that your delusions of conspiracy are the result of listening to Therron speak about himself too often,” Memmnon replied acidly. “Too much of that will rot your brain, as you seem determined to prove. Therron defied a direct order from the King himself. Doing so very nearly cost us the war before it was well underway. If not for Parno, you would likely be dead or in captivity at this very moment, along with the rest of us and this city lying in Nor hands. That is why he was 'sent away', dear sister. I assure you that our father lacks nothing in the arena of courage, either. It was him that faced Therron down and pronounced judgment on him.” He took a step closer to her.

“And you would do well to keep your voice down when speaking so, since father has allowed the story that Therron is ill to be repeated rather than let the truth be known. That is far more than he deserved, considering all of his actions.”

“You still fear him, even now,” Sherron mocked her older brother. “You reek of it, Memmnon. Fear that your younger brother would surpass you and rule in your stead. Shameful.”

“For the record,” Memmnon fought to control his temper, “he could have the crown so far as I'm concerned. But he would need no heir in all likelihood, since he would almost certainly be the last sovereign of Soulan. His 'rule' would be ruinous and result in our being bowled over by the Nor heathen in short order while Therron preached to all and sundry that our forces were superior and we could not be beaten. That is all he did for most of the winter as we tried to prepare.”

“We will never fall to the Northern Heathens!” Sherron snapped. “Soulan has stood since the time of Tyree and will continue to stand long after the last Nor bastard is rotting in the earth!”

“Yes, that's exactly the sort of thing Therron was saying,” Memmnon nodded. “Of course, the reality is somewhat different, sister. The 'heathen' are far better prepared than at any time in our shared history. They have trained and equipped a massive army that you may have heard is now camping out on
several thousand square miles of Soulan soil
!” Memmnon's voice rose steadily as he spoke. “Prime growing areas for that matter. Every day they sit there is another day lost to growing season on some of the best producing lands in our kingdom. And that leaves aside the loss we've already suffered in livestock that was left behind to feed the damn Norlanders!”