Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,127

“Speaking as a former peasant, the people don’t really care who’s collecting their taxes so long as they’re being treated fairly. With the majority of the nation under our control, all we need do is show them some kindness and the Patriarch’s rule is over, whether or not we ever root him out of his fortress.” After a second, he added, “That being said, I do intend to take Myrsta as well, but that’s the last item on my list.”

There was more discussion after that, but nothing of substance. Eventually the officers ran out of things to say, and Will brought the meeting to a close. At the end he asked Sub-Marshal Spry to remain behind, and once the others were gone, he gave the man some additional instructions. “Don’t inform First Division of our change in plans. As far as they are to know, we’re simply doing some extended foraging.”

The young count gave him a knowing glance. “You mean don’t let the field marshal know, don’t you, sir?”

Will feigned innocence. “I trust all of my officers. I said it as I meant it.”

Spry winked, then answered, “Understood, sir.”

They marched hard that day, keeping up the pace for a full fourteen hours before stopping. Most civilians had the impression that a forced march involved the soldiers increasing their pace, but that really wasn’t the case. The reason they covered more ground was because they marched longer, cutting out the time required to set up a proper camp, minor earthworks, or even cook. They marched until there wasn’t enough light to see by, and then they stopped for a cold supper of water and dried rations. The wards were set, watches organized, and the men settled down to sleep. Although they would be rising eight hours later, due to the watch schedule, most of the men got only four or five hours of sleep before beginning another fourteen hours on their feet.

It was a tough schedule, but one the army was fully capable of for a week or longer if necessary, so long as no one expected them to stop and fight. Weariness and fatigue were the enemies of morale, and engaging in a battle while the soldiers were that tired would inevitably lead to disaster.

Fortunately, they only had to do it for two days, and as Will predicted, the smaller garrison forces left in the region near Maldon didn’t dare poke the bear once they saw the size of the Terabinian force. They were in sight of Maldon by the end of the second day, though it would be the next morning before they could encircle the walls and set up a proper siege. Will smiled to think of the panicked movements that would be going on during the city’s last free night as people crowded in and everyone scrambled to gather in what they could. Haste would cost them, but he hadn’t given them any choice.

While the camp was settling in, Will received the final reports from the scouts he’d sent out during the afternoon, as well as an urgent message that had come in from Sub-Marshal Spry. He read Spry’s missive first:

Marshal, I trust this finds you well and nearing Maldon already. Unfortunately, I must report that Field Marshal Lustral has sent word of a fierce counterattack by the Darrowan military. First Division has come to a halt and may be facing a superior number of enemies. Per your standing orders, I have already ordered Third Division into motion, and we are moving to reinforce the First. I am leaving only one company at the crossroads to facilitate messenger relays. I have also sent duplicate messages to Cmdr. Bradshaw in Klendon to keep him informed.

I will continue to send messengers every twelve hours to keep you advised of the situation. Please advise if you wish me to adjust my current course in any way.

Sub-Marshal Spry

Will’s fist tightened as he read the letter, and he had to work hard to refrain from swearing. People were watching him. Any sign of worry or distress would filter down through the entire army. “Wait here,” he told the rider. “I’ll pen a response for you.”

Lieutenant Renly spoke up. “Let him rest, sir. It will be a different rider that takes your response.”

Another stupid mistake, but Will kept his face calm. “Of course.” He nodded to the messenger. “Dismissed.” Then he went in to write a reply. He had no sooner sat down at the camp desk when Renly entered.

“Perhaps you should listen