Arcane Mercenaries: Insurrection, page 10
Prince Dominick, youthful and spirited, appeared undaunted by the weighty task of orchestrating an insurgency against the formidable Ismorian crown. A born leader, Dominick had the innate qualities that drew people to him and the wisdom to avoid those who would divert his purpose. His frame stood tall amongst his allies, and his eyes held the fierce resolve that was the hallmark of a true commander.
Grant and Ez got halfway across the tented command area before Dominick looked up from his discussion. If he was energetic with his operations and advisers, he positively glowed when Grant and Ez made their way between the field tables and working soldiers.
Dominick thrust the sheaf of documents into the waiting arms of a nearby aide, his eagerness propelling him across the room to welcome the newly arrived comrades. His grin broadened, a beacon of warmth and camaraderie. Those around them paused in their tasks, their gazes fixed on the sight of their future king momentarily casting aside his duties to embrace a pair of soldiers as long-lost friends.
“Grant Gwydian.” Dominick grinned wider with the words. “I would have said ‘your majesty,’ but I heard that was off the table.”
Grant bowed from the waist with enough grace to make Josefine, the steward of the imperial palace in Semturm, proud.
“Neither emperor nor consort, and the area became fairly hostile to the StarTouched.”
“Esmerelda, thank you for joining our noble cause.” Dominick gently gripped her hand and raised it to his lips. “I trust you’re watching out for this one.”
“Usually, it takes the entire company to watch after him, but events in Alenann forced us out in a rush,” Ez said.
“Princess Sina?” Dominick didn’t hide the concern in his voice.
“In Bohem. Voluntary exile until the empress has full control of the government,” Grant said. “Although I wouldn’t bet on a return to Alenann as Antonia realizes the threat posed by Sina’s abilities.”
“I’m glad we found you in Ismore,” Dominick said. “Why Megenland?”
Catrin, Mage of the Mists, moved to the edge of Grant’s vision and shook her head to warn him. They’d talk later, out of earshot of the people in the tent and Dominick.
“I’m from Torness,” Grant said. “My father was in the Ismorian navy, and my mother was from Alenann. It was as good a place as any to let things with the church settle.”
Dominick noticed the careful avoidance of the question but let Grant pass on more answers. He brought them to his strategic maps, letting them take in the symbology.
“You’re moving against Rosestrand?” Grant asked.
“The nobles here are undecided, which means limited provisions and no support. Taking a port city lets me bring in supplies from across my domain.”
“It exposes your operation to the Ismorian navy,” Ez said.
“But I can show they’re not invincible. Even if we can grow the army by a few thousand more, that’s a win against the queen.”
“She’ll have to respond if you take Rosestrand,” Grant said. “You can’t seize a major port city without drawing her full attention.”
Dominick grinned. “Then she’ll have to take me seriously.”
18
CONVINCING
Dominick stood in the dimly lit war room, his eyes fixed on the map. He was a man who had fostered the birth of a rebellion with a deft and patient hand, guided through the intricate dance of insurgency by Catrin’s advice. Time had been their ally, as the Icy Queen focused on the mainland and the Mage Wars. Her distraction allowed Dominick’s momentum to grow.
His mismatched army had grown into a force to be reckoned with. The clamor for a campaign to seize territory and assert their position as a legitimate political power grew ever louder. The pressure was immense, and Dominick knew he had reached a critical juncture.
Dominick couldn’t dismiss the dangers of rushing headlong into a military confrontation with the entrenched power. The very existence of his fledgling movement hung in the balance, threatened by the combined might of the Ismorian army and navy.
The image of the young prince, the symbol of hope for their cause, captured on the battlefield and delivered into the cold grasp of the Icy Queen, haunted Grant. The wrath that would befall those who had dared to support the uprising would be swift and unrelenting.
The command staff weighed the merits of the bold stroke toward Rosestrand. They needed the port to supply their operations, but the queen could focus her efforts on the city, tying down a substantial portion of Dominick’s resources to its defense. The prince couldn’t afford to divide his limited reserves.
“What do we know about the Viscount Carwyn?” Grant asked around the table. He wished Rienne was here to guide him through the political implications of their attack toward the port. She had an intuitive understanding of the nobility and what the titles meant.
“His family has been loyal to the queen for generations,” Dominick said. “If the queen perished tomorrow, he’d have a claim to the throne through intermarriage dating back five generations.” He glanced over his shoulder at one of his advisers for confirmation.
“Almost a century, my lord,” the man offered.
“He values the relationship with the queen, and he guards the wealth of the port,” Dominick continued. “But not too closely. His estate is two days hard ride from Rosestrand, and most of his private army is near his castle.”
“The viscount is aware of our fielded forces and keeps his army close to his estate,” one of Dominick’s senior commanders said.
“What’s in the city?” Ez asked.
“The queen trusts Carwyn to hold the port, and he keeps a strong detachment, battalion strength, on the walls. There’s a harbor detachment from the Ismorian navy, and they hold the forts leading into the bay,” Dominick said.
“Morale is high with the harbor forces, and they’ll fight hard to hold their fortifications. There’s no approach to take them by sea, and a land assault would be difficult through the city streets,” another senior commander said.
Grant and Ez glanced at each other. They specialized in the impossible, and defenses could be isolated and compromised with unconventional tactics and arcane abilities. Grant’s quick math showed nearly two thousand defenders between the harbor forces, viscount’s army, and town watch. It might double if the viscount’s representative called out the militia.
If the defenders could delay Dominick’s assaulting forces for four days, the viscount could muster a vast army to assault the siege lines from the rear. The city could survive a siege for years if supplied by sea, and the queen could land more forces inside Rosestrand. Dominick couldn’t rely on Catrin’s weather control to deliver victory against a determined enemy.
They needed a better plan.
“I don’t see siege engines in your camp,” Ez prompted.
“We have to stay light,” Dominick said. “We’ve taken towns without firing a shot.”
“You’ve got a bigger army and a more determined opponent,” Grant said.
Grant stared at the city map, rubbing his beard. The first glimpses of a plan started to form.
“I know that look,” Ez said. “I’m not going to like it, am I?”
“Not one bit,” Grant said as he finished his calculations. “But it will work.”
Catrin glided toward the discussion and stood at the edge of the circle. Dominick waited patiently as Grant finished his thought.
“I need your army to stay here,” Grant said, pointing his index finger at their location on the map. One of the senior officers sucked in their breath to disagree, but Grant cut him off with a hand wave. “The viscount hasn’t moved his forces from his estate, and Rosestrand believes their defenses are holding you back. Your army stays put to convince them what they believe is true.”
“The status quo doesn’t win wars,” Dominick said. “My army is growing. Slowly, yes, but I can’t sit with them this close to the capital without using them.”
“There’ll be plenty of fighting to go around,” Grant said. “But we start with a raid.”
“I’m really not going to like this,” Ez said. “Toward the viscount or the city?”
“The city,” Grant said. He lifted his eyes from the lines on the map and stared into disbelieving faces. “Dominick runs some training exercises to show off the size of his forces. Big enough to convince the local spies and scouts that he intends to take on the viscount. They send a message back to Carwyn about your growing strength.”
“We’ve risked everything to support Dominick,” one noble said. The man had an oiled mustache and wore his mail hauberk under his tunic. “There are no spies here.”
Ez scoffed at the man. “You buy supplies from local farmers, and soldiers visit the towns. There are spies, and they are watching your moves. Grant’s right about keeping things looking normal.”
“Don’t move directly toward the castle. That could spook the viscount to muster his army to march on you or call out the militia in the town. They are willing to watch for now, and we need them to stay put and focused on you,” Grant said. “Don’t worry. There’ll be plenty of fighting.”
“Tell me about the raid,” Catrin said, regaining control over the muttering nobles and planning senior officers. Everyone fell silent with the wizard’s words.
“Ez and I lead a small team into Rosestrand, and we assault the pillars of stability. We strike at the watch headquarters and visit the army commanders. They need to decide which side they’ll support, and we’re only going to ask once,” Grant said.
“What about the harbor forces?” Catrin asked. Her face was emotionless, and it unnerved Grant. Everyone else looked at the wisdom of his plan, and he felt the excitement of the moment pulsing in the room.
“Isolate them and demonstrate they aren’t invulnerable to our attack,” Grant said.
“Make them button up,” Ez said, the grin growing as she understood and loved the audacity.
“And convince the harbormaster that no one comes in or out,” Grant said.
“Convince?” Catrin asked with her characteristic raised eyebrow.
Grant fought the childish urge to show her he knew what he was doing. He planned raids, battles, operations, and campaigns for over a decade. Grant and Ez were the two people who could turn Dominick’s pursuit of the throne from an intramural activity into a real-world chance to sit on the throne.
The heck with her.
“That will be up to them. If the end of a blade is enough to convince them, then we’re good. If not, we’ll make an example out of a few to guarantee compliance,” Grant said.
Dominick shook his head. “Our efforts gained strength because I showed restraint.” He glanced toward Catrin for support, but she showed no emotions and didn’t take her stare off Grant. “No unnecessary violence. Consider this my first command.”
Grant slowly unclenched his hands, feeling the tension ebb from his fingers. He, Ez, and whatever small detachment Dominick would grant them were about to embark on a daring mission: infiltrating a significant port city where two thousand defenders stood guard. Dominick’s forces required the supply route to press on towards the Ismorian capital, Llynmond, but they lacked the strength to advance or capture the city outright.
To make matters more challenging, the young leader had just ordered them to exercise restraint in their operations. Ez’s smile only seemed to exacerbate Grant’s predicament. Dominick was destined to rule these lands one day and was wise not to sow the seeds of future rebellion before wearing the crown. It was a shrewd decision to maintain the moral high ground.
As Grant mulled over their situation, he silently cursed himself for trying to impress Catrin. Despite the enormity of the task ahead, he knew that he and Ez would face it head-on, and he would comply with the prince’s instructions.
“I understand,” Grant said. “It’ll make the mission harder, but you need the port.”
“How long?” Catrin asked.
“We’ll leave in the morning,” Grant said. “I don’t expect the city will last more than a week as we take down the infrastructure. Once the pieces start to fall and no sign of help comes from the viscount or his forces, the city leadership will have no choice but to surrender.”
Catrin offered a silent nod, and Dominick brought the strategy session to a close with that simple gesture. They deliberated on who would provide the right forces to join Grant’s raid. He didn’t need more than a hundred as long as they were skilled and ready to operate with little oversight.
“Captain, a word?” Catrin said. She touched his arm and guided him away from the military meeting. Dominick glanced in their direction but immediately returned to his discussions with his command staff.
“You found me quickly,” Grant said when they cleared the tent. Catrin said nothing as Ez walked by Grant’s side. “We barely finished in Liswall, and your messenger showed up at our doorstep.”
“I warned Dominick about bringing you into his camp,” Catrin said, ignoring the thrust of his question.
“He needs our help,” Ez said. “Looks like your campaign will only last until the queen grows tired of the game and stomps you out. Your forces are too small for the viscount’s army.”
“You bring drama and death wherever you go,” Catrin said, addressing Ez. “Plans in motion for years crumble when you arrive, and subtle efforts are worthless in your sphere.”
“Is that why you sent me back to the crater? Back to my StarFall? To learn about Erland and face my past?” Grant asked. The revelation of her subtle plan ignited his emotions and churned in his belly.
“No,” she said. “Although that was a nice lesson for you two. You need to find the source, Grant. Bigger events are swirling around us.”
“Overthrowing a queen and putting Dominick on the throne isn’t big enough?” Ez asked.
“That’s not the plan.”
“Catrin, this is our chance to create a land where the Touched can feel safe under a ruler who respects them as people, not wartime tools,” Grant said, regaining some control of his thoughts.
“That’s not the plan, and it’s far larger than that. We have to win here, but I’m afraid that won’t be enough to divert what lies ahead. Your quest to find and understand StarFall is far more important than Ismore, Alenann, or Nanteene.”
That was classic Catrin, warning of some monolithic danger to the realm. She sounded like Alexander III when he ranted about the Apocalypse. Grant wasn’t in the mood to discuss some invisible hand pulling the strings of destiny across all the kingdoms.
He had a mission to plan and walked away.
19
ROSESTRAND
Dominick outfitted Grant’s soldiers with the camp's best equipment and strongest junior leaders. No noble or aristocrat would join the group, likely knowing there would be little glory in the dangerous urban battle.
The seventy-five recruits were divided into equal teams under a senior non-commissioned officer. Each leader was a veteran of either the Ismorian army, Mage Wars, or mercenary service - each one battle tested and unflinching in difficult times.
Grant gave each team the authority to reorganize their forces and appoint junior leaders for whatever task was needed without asking him first. He wanted his troops capable and able to act when their plans derailed or opportunities emerged.
He watched the soldiers prepare their kit and observed the leadership making the rounds. They could pull this off.
Grant and Ez broke their allocation of twenty-five soldiers into five teams of five. Ez handpicked three archers who fought with Dominick at Krosno and were skilled with their longbows. These soldiers were exceptionally loyal to Dominick, but they also knew their chances of survival under the famed Arcane Mercenary leadership were exceptional.
Grant felt uneasy about putting Ez in charge of a different objective. Ez was an incredible leader and one of the strongest StarTouched soldiers in any country. The city didn’t have the resources to contain the Arcane Mercenaries set on multiple targets.
He didn’t like their limited information about the situation inside Rosestrand. The StarTouched banded under Grant’s leadership in the Arcane Mercenaries to survive the Mage Wars. Separating into different teams left them vulnerable to a multitude of unexpected attacks.
Jafran usually fought at Grant’s side and protected him from unseen threats. Grant lost count years ago of the number of times his command sergeant saved him from unseen threats. All he had was Ez, and he wouldn’t lose her. They would stick together.
The most challenging part of their plan was communication between the squads striking out across the city. The different teams had to coordinate and move in unison, working together to destabilize their opponents if this gamble had a chance of delivering victory. If the defenders realized the assault force was less than a hundred soldiers, they’d be rounded up and hung from the city walls by morning.
He worked with Ez late into the night to develop a plan for maximizing the effectiveness of their attacks and ensuring that every action had two or three follow-up moves already planned. By the time they finished, it was well past midnight, but Grant felt confident that their modified strategy could produce results.
The first team would take on the city’s security. Small squads could disrupt city watch stations and headquarters, crippling an effective response against their attack. Grant wasn’t sure how much resistance the law enforcement of the town would put up to the rugged freedom fighters, but he wagered that the small teams could overpower units designed to prevent criminal activity and maintain peace.
The second team had the daunting job of assaulting the harbor forces. Their main goal was to seize or control the harbormaster and his highest-ranking staff. They needed to keep the port locked down long enough for Dominick to gain control of the city. Grant worried about the size of the strike force for this mission. They’d be in trouble if the Ismorian harbor force put up a strong defense. Catching them off guard would be essential.
