Chapter 11: Council of War

Judy Bondi looked around the room she'd been led to and marveled. There was no other word for it, she marveled. The room had a high ceiling; there were windows along one side that let in lots of afternoon sunlight. There was a small alcove off to one side with a bed in it. A bed with the most wonderfully soft mattress she'd ever known in her life, and huge pillows that covered the headboard.

Off to another side of the room, another small niche, with what passed for a toilet and a tub. There was a cistern that flushed the toilet, but Judy couldn't see any way to fill it. She didn't see any way to fill the tub, either.

That was made clear a few minutes after she arrived, when a half dozen servants appeared, bearing buckets of hot water. A few minutes later they were back, with lukewarm water.

She barred the door, tore out of her clothes and laid back in the tub, letting every single muscle in her body, it seemed, unknot. Eventually the warmth started to fade, and she vigorously scrubbed every square inch of her skin, ending with her hair.

There were towels the size of beach towels provided and she used them. She couldn't believe how much better she felt afterwards. She knocked on doors, then. Becky, she knew, was across the hall, Lydia diagonally across the hall and Elspeth next door to herself. Only Elspeth answered, she too, still damp.

"What do you think?" Judy asked.

"The thought of people having to carry my hot water," Elspeth said bitterly, "turns my stomach."

"I notice you're wet."

"They sacrificed for me; I told them, never again. But I'm not stupid; I used what they'd brought."

"Elspeth," Tuck said from a few feet away. "Suppose your job in life was to fetch water. How would you feel if someone told you that they disapproved of what you did?"

"I'd tell them to find another job!" Elspeth said with heat.

"Elspeth, back home, most people have water heated by natural gas."

"Our house was," Elspeth agreed.

"Elspeth, men worked to extract the natural gas out of the ground. More worked to pump it from there to your house. Others worked repairing breaks, fixing the equipment. Others read the meter; odds are there are a lot of women who work in the corporate offices. Tell me, Elspeth, what's different about this?"

"These people have to carry the water to my door."

Tuck shook his head. "No. You simply don't recognize the difference. Here, I suspect they heat water over wood fires. You could go fetch your own water, I suspect. What, four loads?"

Elspeth nodded, uncertain what Tuck was telling her.

"Okay, you spend half an hour fetching water. How about the wood? Are you going to go cut the trees? Split the wood? Take the water from the well and put it into the heating tubs?"

"What are you trying to say?" Elspeth asked.

"Elspeth, comforts you took for granted back home took the work of a lot of people -- but they were faceless, out of sight and mind. Comforts here also take the work of a lot of people -- except here you see them. Instead of pissing them off, contemplate what you can do for them for Christmas."

"Do they have Christmas?" Lydia asked from her door.

"I doubt it," Tuck replied. "But most cultures have a winter solstice holiday; odds are, these people do too. The point is to make you think. This isn't home; they do things differently here. Before you go making judgments about this or that, you need to think about what you're doing."

He waved at Judy. "I told Judy earlier a lot of work we are used to having done for us by faceless people we never saw will be done here by someone in front of our eyes. Don't run them down. Don't take them for granted. You tip in restaurants when the waitress brings you a coke and hamburger. This is no different. Treat these people right, ladies!"

Judy contemplated what Tuck was saying. It was, she thought, embarrassing. He was talking about something that was a larger truth. When had she ever thanked the people who provided electricity to her house? The garbage man? The people who made TV shows? There were, in fact, a million jobs that she relied on every day that she never thought about, never recognized, that made her life what it had been. Maybe this wasn't a bad thing, having it rubbed in her face!

Gamelin appeared, smiled at Judy and said something to Tuck she couldn't hear.

"Sure, now is a good time," Tuck replied.

"What?" Judy asked.

He met her eyes. "Count Tellan wants me to talk to him and a few of his advisors. A Council of War."

"Can I come?"

Tuck looked at her, then at the others.

Elspeth laughed. "Okay, I'm sorry about not understanding about step and fetch it. That doesn't mean I'm not about to go hop in that great huge bed and sleep until next week!"

Lydia nodded. "I'm really tired! I hurt everywhere!"

Becky nodded, then yawned. "Me too, I can barely stay awake."

Tuck turned to Judy. "I'll try to get them to agree. I think I'll succeed, but I'll tell you right now, the only thing I have to offer these people are my skills. You talk about your rooms and the people who bring you things. Think about this, ladies: those things cost. They cost either money or labor. They aren't doing it for us because we're just good friends. At some point, we either start paying our way or get evicted.

"Judy, you need to think very carefully if you want to come along and then think twice more before you decide to talk."

He turned to the others. "Elspeth is a high school student, the rest of you are in elementary school. This isn't meant to be disparaging -- on the contrary. From what I can tell, maybe half or more of the adults here are illiterate. You have useful skills, just as I do. Different ones, but useful nonetheless. Think about our situation, your situation, please. It's not the best thing in the world, but we've seen enough to have an idea of what some of the worst things are."

He motioned and Judy fell in step next to him, while Tuck followed Gamelin.

They passed through long stone halls, out a door and along a gallery. They could see for quite a distance off to the south. It was a beautiful view.

"Lord Tuck," Gamelin sounded a little nervous, "these are the personal quarters of Count Tellan."

Tuck nodded, but they didn't slow.

Count Tellan and his son were standing when they entered, Lucida, Count Tellan's wife, was a few feet away, with a tray of what were obviously drinks, not to mention fruit. There were some apples, a few pears and peaches.

"I am sorry, Lord Tuck, this is not the season for fresh fruit," Lucida told him.

Tuck bowed. "My lady," he brandished what looked like a peach, "I have no idea how you found one of these at this time of year. You have my respect!"

Judy took one of the apples; unsure what was proper. Tuck started in on the peach, so she bit into the apple. It was, she thought, something like a red delicious. It was tasty, with a lot of meat to the fruit.

"I am curious, Tuck," Count Tellan said after they were settled and eating. "I have heard from Captain Leitnos and from Lieutenant Gamelin. You feel our enemies have over-committed themselves, even if less than a tenth of the forces they've sent are in the field."

"My Lord Count, a man eats three pounds of food a day. A horse, five or six times that."

"The Zarthani appear to have less than a thousand cavalry," Count Tellan informed Tuck.

Tuck bobbed his head. "A thousand horses eat what nearly five thousand men eat. A horse out here, Lord Count, is expensive."

Count Tellan nodded in agreement. "That is so, Tuck."

"Sir, for a thousand men and their horses that means they need eighteen thousand pounds of food a day. A wagon, sir, carries how much? Two thousand pounds?"

"Perhaps fifteen hundred," the count replied.

"Let us say that then. That means your enemies need a dozen wagons to arrive every day, just with food. A battle? A single battle and they will shoot off a dozen wagonloads of fireseed."

Tuck looked at the Count. "They will need two dozen wagons, more or less each day, just to keep even. About a hundred and fifty horses, who eat a lot themselves, to pull the wagons. Two men per wagon. On the road those wagons are lucky to make ten or fifteen miles a day. Two moon-quarters from the river, and two moon-quarters back. They need maybe twenty times that many wagons to keep a daily schedule. Five hundred wagons, three thousand horses, maybe a thousand men. Just to bring their supplies."

Count Tellan nodded, looking thoughtful.

"So, stop the wagons. Run off horses. Burn wagons. Block the road. Slow down the supply chain. Double the time and they need forty wagons a day, maybe a thousand wagons and ten thousand horses. That's what they need to support a thousand cavalry men. If they were to bring up a half million men? A single bad rainstorm would destroy them."

"You say then, we shouldn't concentrate on defending our walls, but taking the battle to their road?" Count Tellan asked.

"Yes, Count. The road is what I would call a 'soft target'. It can't be defended easily. A dozen men can push rocks onto an unguarded stretch of road, in the dark of night. A little later, they can shoot into a drover's camp and panic a few horses, cause men to lose sleep. Raid a remount station and run off the horses there. Ten men, Lord Count, who in one night can do the work of a hundred and stop a thousand."

"They will simply guard the road," the Count's son, Lykos, replied.

"Yes, Lord. Except, they will need a lot of guards! Every man guarding the road is one less who will come against Outpost. And for a road that long, they will need a lot of guards! I understand that this is the city you created this far west."

Lykos nodded, his eyes bright. "I want to save it. My father has orders from the High King to burn it and withdraw, if he doesn't think he can hold."

Tuck turned to Count Tellan. "I told Gamelin, I told Captain Leitnos that I thought trying to hold a town here wasn't likely to succeed. Your town's defenses are tremendous, far better than I dreamed! Two or three thousand men can hold it indefinitely! The rest can be used against the road!"

Count Tellan smiled thinly. "And if a few thousand of my troops were attacking the road while Outpost was besieged, how would they eat?"

"Establish supply points, Lord Count," Tuck told him. "Places where you defend supplies. If they come against you, be prepared to move away. Hit them hard, briefly, then leave."

"This would do what?" Count Tellan asked, sounding obstinate.

"Sire, ten groups of two dozen men would be attacking at ten-mile intervals. The enemy could not guarantee their supply schedule."

"I said it before," Lykos repeated. "They will just guard the road. What will that bring us?"

Tuck repeated his answer. "Every man who guards the road can't come here. Stop or delay just one wagonload and a company doesn't eat well. A thousand men can close that road completely. Then your enemies are a few days from turning from an army into a rabble," Tuck told them.

"So, a thousand men against the road. You said, three thousand can hold Outpost. What of the other thousand?" Count Tellan asked.

Tuck tapped the map, well south. "The Zarthani sound like tough soldiers. Winning against them would be very difficult. Attack the weaker enemy. The Mexicotal."

"The Mexicotal?" Lykos exclaimed. "That's mad! Armies have marched into that desert and never been seen again! They might not be as skilled with fireseed weapons, they might have few of them, but there are tens of thousands of soldiers at the God-King's beck and call."

Tuck looked at the count, his face very serious. "Is there much trade with the Mexicotal?"

"Not from here," the count told him. "They don't permit it. We hear a few things, but it isn't much. Most trading with the God-King's Kingdom is done by ship, far to the south, and by the Zarthani and not us."

"Tanda Havra's uncle is a trader. I bet he knows a great deal about the terrain, south of here," Tuck told him.

Count Tellan laughed. "I bet he does, too. But getting a trader to part with secrets like that... it can be expensive."

"And in wartime, failure to help an ally can be fatal," Tuck replied.

Judy had followed about ninety percent of what was being said, when Tuck said that, the count inclined his head. He was obviously agreeing with Tuck.

"My Lord, I can help train your officers in tactics and thinking about small raids. That was my task in the war I fought in, training the armies of others."

"A mercenary!" Lykos spat.

Tuck shook his head. "No, I was in the pay of my King, Count Tellan, not theirs. I wore my colors, not theirs. I took commands from my officers, not theirs. The greatest of them could not command me to lift a finger." Tuck chuckled. "And I couldn't command the least among them to lift a finger, either."

Count Tellan nodded. "The High King has sent teachers among the militias here in the West. It is something I understand, even if others do not."

Gamelin cleared his throat, and everyone looked at him. "Lord Count, I know I'm the youngest here..."

Judy was sure she understood him. She snorted and everyone except Gamelin laughed. She could see his ears turn red.

"I'm the youngest officer here. Are you seriously considered Tuck's plan? For a handful of men to skulk in the night, attack our enemies while they sleep, then run off before they wake? That sounds more like banditry than soldiery."

"I am about to hurt his feelings, Judy," Tuck told her in English. "Sorry about that."

"He owes for the 'youngest' crack," she told him. Tuck smiled.

Count Tellan hadn't understood the words, but he'd watched the byplay. "Tuck, perhaps you might have a few words for the lieutenant in his youth."

Tuck nodded and faced Gamelin. "I do not know how fast your army moves. Your King will come to your aid, is that not right?"

Gamelin nodded. Of course!

"But there may be enemies who oppose him, enemies between him and us. Is that not so?"

Again Gamelin nodded.

"So, not this year. Next year?" Tuck shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe two years? Three?"

"He will come," Gamelin said obstinately.

"I imagine he will," Tuck told him. "However, today you face ten to one odds against you, if they bring up as many men as you've heard. Unless you stop those men. Both those already here and those coming.

"Count Tellan could gather together all of his soldiers, line them up and order them to charge your enemies. You'd hurt them, but you'd all be dead at the end of the battle."

Judy could see Gamelin nod.

Tuck went on. "How is that going to help your High King? How will it help the women and children of Outpost? You will have made a lot of widows and orphans, and put those widows and orphans at great risk. I've been told what happens if the Mexicotal were to capture them. Who could, in good conscience, ride off to his death, knowing he was dooming women and children to such a fate?"

The room was still, except for Tuck's quiet voice. "Is it banditry when a dozen men attack ten times their number? Is that really the act of a coward? And withdrawing before the enemy can respond -- that means they can return and do the same thing again and again. And if they are careful, they can kill ten or a hundred times as many of their enemies as they lose."

"Attacking in the dark of night, against sleeping enemies lacks honor," Gamelin told him.

Count Tellan laughed. "I remember the High King speaking to that. 'We are not fighting this Dralm-damned war for honor! We're fighting it for survival!' So are we, Lieutenant."

Tuck turned back to Count Tellan. "Sir, your town is too large for them to bypass, unless they leave a lot of troops to invest it. Expensive troops, hard to supply, plus it would mean an army that daily grows further away from their supply base, with a possible enemy sitting aside their supplies. No, they have to take it. If they bottle up everyone in the town, then they will win. Perhaps it will take a few moons, or even a year, but in the end, they will win.

"Garrison the town strongly, send the rest into the field, with sufficient provisions hidden for their use. Have some of them attack the road; others attack some of the wagon columns. Quick, swift attacks. If nothing else, a few shots at the horses. Raids on the way stations, for they will have to have those, to change horses. Run off a herd of those horses and you cripple that station. If they have a thousand guards but the horses are gone, they might as well not be there.

"But without men outside the walls, Count Tellan, you lose."

Tuck subsided and Count Tellan was silent for a while, looking at Tuck. His wife leaned close and whispered something in his ear that Judy couldn't hear at all. The Count smiled at his wife.

"I am told, Lord Tuck, that you know some of our military terminology. 'Shelter half' for instance." Shelter half was spoken in English.

Tuck nodded. "I was surprised to hear familiar words here, Lord Count. In my war we also called them 'pup tents.'"

The count nodded. "And the word 'rifle.'"

"Yes, sir."

"I wish to know if you understand another word. A word that is one of the High King's greatest secrets. 'Mortar.'"

Tuck met his eyes. "Yes, Count Tellan, I know that word."

"I don't," Gamelin said. Judy wanted to kick him for being so stupid.

"It's secret," Judy said, a half second ahead of the Count's wife. She met the eyes of the woman who was older than her mother would have been. With a start, Judy realized that both of them were thinking the same thing at the same time: Men!

"The High King sent a captain who'd been trained in their use. He seems to have forgotten most of what he learned on the trip here. There are plans and drawings, and Lykos has done well there, but their actual use..." Count Tellan shook his head. "The High King says they are important. Right now, they are useless to me."

"Count Tellan, in the war I fought, both sides used them. Our enemies were much better than we were with them. Frequently that difference cost us dearly. The only reason we weren't losing was because we had cannon much larger, much more powerful and accurate, and in greater number." Tuck paused, then went on, "But, for running around in the dark, scaring your enemies, there's nothing better."

Count Tellan surprised Judy. "And you, Judybondi. Do you know about mortars?"

"I know of them," she told him honestly. "At home, I wasn't a soldier, but I know of them. My brother is a soldier, a sergeant, in the same war Tuck fought in."

"Can you describe one?" The count asked Judy.

Judy looked at Tuck, who simply looked away.

"A tube, sir," Judy told him. "Knee high, or so. I don't know how big around. They shoot little bombs."

"And what keeps this tube up?" the count inquired.

"Legs, sir."

"How many legs, Judybondi?"

She closed her eyes and tried to remember the pictures she'd seen. "Two, sir. But I'm not sure. I've only seen pictures." The last word was English; she didn't have a clue what the Zarthani word for picture was.

Tuck supplied it. "A picture is a very detailed drawing, Count Tellan."