Sword-Quest spent some time with the Seven Council Fires last year, and fought by their sides. You’ll find that Ingolf is a very good light cavalry commander; competent in other things as well, some of which will be relevant and some not. A steady man and sure of himself, but adaptable, and vastly experienced; there’s few tricks of that sort of fighting he does not know. And my half sister Mary… Mary Vogeler, now… will be with him, along with two dozen Dunedain Rangers.”
“Your Majesty,” Tiphaine said, nodding in the manner of someone thinking hard. “Yes, I can work with the Sioux. Or around them, needs must.”
“And I’m giving you two thousand PPA men-at-arms, the rest bicycleborn foot troops and field artillery,” Rudi went on. “Among them seven regiments of pike and crossbow infantry from the Yakima. They’ll have their own field batteries in support.”
Tiphaine’s pale brows rose slightly, the more visible against her tanned skin.
“The Free Cities of the Yakima League and the Association have an, ah, unfortunate mutual history,” she said.
Rudi grinned. “Meaning, you and they fought hammer and tongs for years, to be sure, when the Association tried to overrun them and divide their land into fiefs,” he said. “You did exactly that with the Tri-Cities, which they thought of as theirs. Yet we’re all part of the High Kingdom now, and must learn to work together. Also the Yakima Valley will be at your back, hence their homes, hence excellent motivation. Forbye they’ll see Associates fighting to help defend their homes, the satisfaction and wonderment of the world it will be to them, to see you.”
“Politically astute, my liege,” she said.
“Hopefully; and more of the same will be required in the Eastermark, dealing with the local lords.”
“That,” she said, with a small, chilling smile, “I think I can do.”
He nodded, not altogether in agreement. “Not just putting them in fear. We won’t be able to hold the enemy in that area. Your job is to slow them, sure, and bloody them, and keep them pinned until they’ve exhausted their supplies, and lead them by the nose to where I want them; but don’t get caught in any action you can’t withdraw from. I leave that to your judgment; just let you bear in mind that you can use the army I’ve given you, but you cannot lose it.”
A faraway looked came into her eyes; the look of someone considering a difficult but interesting challenge.
He nodded. “But that’s not enough. The castles and especially Walla Walla must hold, and hold strongly even when the enemy occupy the open plains. The nobles there must do their best, not every man for himself and fighting just enough to satisfy honor. Starting with the Count Palatine himself they must be resolved to tie down every enemy soldier they can and do the foe every harm they’re able, despite the risks. I rely on you to see to that, as well; I’ve more than enough to do here.”
“Let the flies conquer the flypaper,” she said, with what he thought was a very faint hint of amusement. “We were on the other side of that often enough. I’ve seen your plans, Your Majesty. Persuading the County’s nobility to go along with them may take a little work. The equipment we’re bringing ought to make a start on that.”
“Which shrewdness is why I’m sending you, my lady Grand Constable. This is a task both political and military, and it will take nice judgment and hard fighting both.”
She nodded, briskly this time. “The Yakima regiments can bicycle down their valley and then barge down from the Three Cities to the Wallula Gap and meet me at Castle Dorion; we can draw on the supply magazines there. The main force from here can travel up the Columbia to the Gap, and then we’ll put our supplies and the heavy gear on the rail line to Walla Walla and march. I’ll have the movement orders drafted by tomorrow morning and the lead elements moving by dawn of the day after.”
She frowned and looked southward. “I’d like to send the Richlanders and the Sioux on ahead. They can use railcars along the river gorge and move a lot faster, then push on and join the screening force that’s covering the enemy garrison in Castle Campscapell.”
The Montivalans winced slightly; something flickered even in the Grand Constable’s pale eyes. Campscapell had fallen last year, and in mysterious circumstances. Losing it had been a strategic disaster for which they’d paid heavily since.
“It’ll improve morale in County Palatine, to see our allies passing through towards the enemy,” she continued. “That will whet their appetite for hope, and the main field force will give them something more substantial. Also it will get the Sioux out in the boondocks. With an enemy force they can expend their energy on killing and robbing, and accompanied by someone they trust.”
“The screening force is under Lord Forest Grove?” Rudi said.
He’d have remembered that himself, he thought; but with his palm on the hilt of the Sword there was no need to struggle with memory or call for files from his staff. It flowed in currents like the deep strong movements of the ocean, any knowledge he’d ever so much as glimpsed just there in any form he wanted it. He no longer feared the sensation.
I’m… resigned, he thought. It’s even coming to seem natural. And sure, it’s as convenient as an ever-filled stock of firewood in winter. I’ll have to watch that I don’t make the Kingdom too dependent on it in the long run, to be sure.
“Lord Rigobert de Stafford, Baron of Forest Grove, yes, Your Majesty,” the Grand Constable said. “With local forces of the County called out under the arriere-ban, mostly, besides his own menie, and a thousand or so from County Chehalis who he’s been hammering into shape for eight months now. A very capable man; aggressive, but not reckless.”
Unexpectedly Signe spoke, with her brother nodding agreement: “He’s the PPA Marchwarden of the South, so we Bearkillers have a border with his bailiwick. I’ve dealt with him myself. A hard bargainer but honorable.”
“Very well, I defer to your wishes, Grand Constable; send those units immediately.”
She bowed again. “I’ll get things moving then, Your Majesty.”
A polite nod to the others, and one of her squires led her courser forward. She put one hand on the cantle of the high knight’s saddle and made a skipping leap. Her left foot caught the stirrup, and she swung onto the horse with a light clatter of gray steel. The party of Associates reined around and cantered off. Bjarni watched consideringly.
“How effective is that armor?” he asked; his own folk used knee-length tunics of mail or scale, and simple conical helms with a strip riveted to the front as a nose-guard.
“Very,” Rudi said; then he touched the Sword that hung at his right hip. “This could cut it, but an ordinary slash with an ordinary sword, no, it’s about like trying to chop through an anvil. Even if you’re very strong, the most you could do would be to dent it quite a bit, knock the wearer down and bruise him badly. You have to thrust, so ”- he indicated face, armpits, groin, the backs of the knees-“and even then you’d best be lucky. You need a two- handed weapon like a long ax or a greatsword to pierce plate. Or something that concentrates impact, like a war- pick, or a war hammer. Or a lance with a charging horse behind it, or a hard-driven bodkin-tipped arrow or bolt hitting just right.”
“It doesn’t seem too heavy,” the Norrheimer said meditatively.
His concern was more or less abstract, a warrior’s curiosity about his craft. All the people who wore plate in this war were on his side.
“Fifty pounds or a bit less for a suit in her size,” Rudi agreed. “More than mail, but not so very much more. And it’s nearly as flexible as one of your hauberks. The weight’s well distributed by tying and buckling it to the point strings on the arming doublet and breeches instead of hanging everything from the shoulders. And it’s much better protection from arrows and bolts than mail. The way it traps heat is the worst drawback; you get tired faster, and you can sweat yourself into a faint if you’re not careful. That’s why she was wearing it, probably. You have to keep yourself accustomed to the heat and constriction. Forbye it’s good exercise.”
“Still, wearing it and moving quickly needs strength. You have many strong shield-maids here.”
Bjarni looked surprised when the others chuckled.
“Everyone else here does, except the PPA,” Rudi explained. “Tiphaine and… perhaps fifty or sixty others all told. Including my Matti! Their custom doesn’t hold with it. Nor their God, or at least so say many of their priests; it takes great skill and even more strength of will to break those barriers. She’s an exception. I told you how we Mackenzies captured Mathilda on a raid during the War of the Eye, when we were both around ten?”
Bjarni nodded, and Rudi continued: “Well, Tiphaine-she was knighted and ennobled for it and granted the fief of Ath-snatched her back that spring, with a small picked band. And myself, the both of us being not twice bowshot
