Winter's Crown: Act 6, Chapter 6
Winter's Crown: Act 6, Chapter 6
Winter's Crown: Act 6, Chapter 6
Chapter 6
Lady Shalltear furrowed her brow, looking down at the map as if to discern why such a statement had been made. When her gaze returned to Ludmila, the confusion over her features only grew.
“I won’t pretend to have any great knowledge of strategy,” she said, “but what you claim doesn’t make much sense to me. Actually, I believe that it wouldn’t, to most. The forces at your disposal are far beyond what your family has worked with in the past, so you should have an easier time of it, no?”
Ludmila felt her mouth twitch at her liege’s words, and she pressed her lips into a thin line. It was a mode of thinking reminiscent of times past, when her family petitioned E-Rantel for assistance in dealing with outstanding threats. Beyond her own memories, it was something that previous generations of her house had also been subjected to.
If they could defend the frontier with a few dozen villagers, then surely offering funds to refurbish equipment or maybe even hire Adventurers would ‘solve’ the problem. Sometimes, they just offered vagrants picked up off of the street to replace their losses, thinking that the inhabitants of the Vale were no different than any other of the smallfolk of the interior. It was a fundamental difference in their respective realities: the safe and secure lords well away from the threats of the frontier were incapable of grasping even the smallest fragment of what was involved in maintaining the security of the border.
Like the games that had them fancy themselves masters of warfare, they saw the world as a board where their ‘mastery’ could be exercised the exact same way. A few of the more brash nobles even suggested that they could take over House Zahradnik’s duties since her family was obviously full of incompetents. In response, her parents quietly took the offerings of material and manpower with thanks, understanding that it was better than nothing. They never, however, entertained any overblown aspirations to command the border.
Feeling that she and Lady Shalltear shared many similar attitudes, she assumed that her new liege would also understand her dilemma – at least in part – so it was somewhat disappointing to hear that very same line of thinking from her.
Ludmila lightly tapped her fingers on the table, wondering what she could say. Perhaps Lady Shalltear did not see the issue because she was unfathomably powerful in her own right, and she probably had much more powerful forces protecting her demesne as well. A difference in perception due to an unbridgeable gap in strength.
Shaking herself out of the mire of bitter memories, she decided that she should at least communicate her point of view.
“My lady,” Ludmila said, “you once told me that there is an irreconcilable chasm that exists between a faithful vassal that stands in her eternal vigil at the edge of the realm, and one who sits comfortably at the right hand of her sovereign. That, even if everything functions as expected, sometimes it is simply not enough, and that plans drawn from raw intellect may be mercilessly scattered to the wind.”
“I recall saying something like that, yes.”
“Then, if I may, I would like to address what appears to be a chasm of its own that currently lies between us. Though we are both faithful defenders of His Majesty’s realm, the sheer difference in strength, or perhaps the nature of our respective territories, results in a difference in perception. I also hear and see it in how His Majesty’s servants conduct themselves, and I sense that these differences are present at all levels of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s administration and military thinking: from the missives and policies of the Royal Court to the commentary of the Elder Liches. I even see it in the official forms for requesting military assets.”
“You have no need to step around so lightly with me,” Lady Shalltear told her. “You did swear to provide me with honest counsel, after all.”
“Yes, my lady,” Ludmila lowered her head. “Then–”
“Actually,” her liege held up a hand, “I will rephrase that: explain your thoughts to me in a way that I will be able to understand. I’ve had it about up to here with others in the Royal Court speaking in references and roundabout ways that fly right over my head.”
They actually did that? It didn’t seem like a good way for the executive offices of the government to communicate at all. What if it resulted in miscommunication or someone didn’t get what was going on at all? At the least, it was an ongoing problem for Lady Shalltear, by her own admission.
“There are some more straightforward ideas that shouldn’t require further elaboration,” Ludmila said. “For one, there’s never been a Goblin army this large before in the history of the upper reaches. Much smaller armies have appeared in the past, but our cooperative relationship with the Theocracy on the other side of the basin has always resulted in us collaborating with their forces when threats beyond a certain degree in severity appeared.”
She paused in her explanation to wait for any questions Lady Shalltear might have. Her liege pulled out her green notepad and started writing. After a minute, she nodded slowly and gestured for her to continue.
“For the long-term strategy House Zahradnik has employed in our everyday defence of the border, I suppose a story might convey the general sense of the idea.”
“A story?”
“Yes, a story,” Ludmila replied. “A centuries-old tale, related to us when we were young. It’s actually from a nation deep in the great desert far to the south: a place even more distant than my family’s ancestral home.”
“I know I asked for something easy to understand,” a dubious expression painted over Lady Shalltear’s face, “but I feel that the bar you’ve set for me has been lowered further than where I intended if you’re resorting to children’s tales.”
“Well, it was meant to be instructional – both of my parents knew a version of it.”
“Fine. But if it ends with ‘and they lived happily ever after’, I’m going to bite you.”
Ludmila couldn’t figure out whether Lady Shalltear was joking or not. She was probably joking. When was the last time she refilled that bottle of blood? She took a sip of her tea, trying to figure out how to relate the old tale.
“There was once a great commander,” Ludmila began, “who was respected and feared for his cunning tactics and intricate stratagems far and wide. On a certain campaign, he found himself positioned poorly in a fortress city against an enemy army thirty times the size of his own. Rather than giving in to despair, or doing his best to organize a hopeless defence, he devised a daring scheme. He hid his soldiers and told the citizens to go about their daily business inside the city. When the enemy army sent its scouts to gather information on the city, they only noted this great commander standing on top of the gatehouse, singing a silly children’s song.”
“…I don’t get it.” Lady Shalltear frowned.
Ludmila’s lips turned up in a smile, recalling her father’s own when she said the exact same thing.
“Neither did the scouts,” she said, “but they returned to their generals and reported their findings, as was their duty. The generals conferred with one another, each as confused as the other. In the end, they decided it was some unfathomable ploy laid by this famously devious enemy commander, so they bypassed the city.”
“So this great commander survived, just like that?”
“He did.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Lady Shalltear scoffed.
“When the enemy generals eventually found out,” Ludmila said, “they were understandably furious, but it was too late.”
Ludmila looked down at the map before them, gesturing broadly at the northern passes.
“The defence of Warden’s Vale over the generations puts into practice the principles put forward by this tale. Our activity on the border is purposely and painstakingly maintained. All intruders who enter, perish. No one is permitted to escape. We are an unfathomable, unknowable threat that no enemy survives, and our lush and inviting land lends to the idea that it is an insidious trap where only death awaits those that succumb to its allure.”
Ludmila reached out and picked up a game piece from the side of the table.
“That is why this,” she held it up in front of her, “is child’s play. Even our day to day routines are more intricate. Every patrol, warning, trap, ambush or lack thereof is part of a grand illusion that manipulates the preconceptions of the wilderness tribes and inexorably binds them to a construct composed of their own fears. For that very same reason, we do not attack the tribes to the south unless we must, to avoid giving our neighbours any sense of our true nature. To maintain this illusion, we kill what we must, and we sacrifice what we must.”
She put the piece back down on the map again, where she predicted that the next encampment would be discovered. They were creeping out like vines, embracing the rivers and ravines at predictable intervals. At this rate, they would occupy the majority of the basin in a few days.
“Rather than directly pitting strength against strength like so many would-be ‘commanders’,” Ludmila said, “we leveraged what strength we had in a way that provided the most effective results. As a result, we have raised a wall that is far more cost-effective in terms of lives and resources than the Great Wall of Roble. Like any wall, however, holes will appear when sufficient force is brought to bear against it.”
“So,” Lady Shalltear looked up from writing, “you’re saying that this Goblin army will not be deterred by this ‘wall’ that you’ve relied upon for generations.”
“That is a part of it, yes,” Ludmila nodded. “Since they are newcomers, they will not possess the same history as the tribes of the upper reaches…and I doubt that the fears of the local tribes will much affect the decisions of the Hobgoblins commanding an army so large. In the past, newcomers would occasionally do the same thing, but we possessed sufficient strength to intercept and destroy them, thus enforcing the shadow of dread we cast over the rest.”
“And you can’t do that with the Undead forces at your disposal?” Lady Shalltear asked.
Ludmila reached out and picked up some white-coloured game pieces from the side of the map, placing them in their defensive positions.
“Of the strong Undead servitors at my disposal,” she said, “I have eleven Death Knights. Of those forces, I can free up to five Death Knights at most. The golems are for civilian construction, and the Death Warrior is busy operating the ship. The Elder Liches are an option, but I am loath to use them: the ones that came after Nonna are much weaker than she is – I can probably destroy one myself, or at least come close to doing so in this sort of environment. They would be best used defending the villages along with the Skeletal Undead placed on the walls, but I would consider it a failure of my duties if intruders were allowed to get that far.”
“Why would that be a failure of your duties?” Lady Shalltear frowned. “As long as your enemies are vanquished, this would be considered a success, yes?”
“…is that how it works in your personal demesne?”
“Of course. Intruders can run around all they wish – the defensive layout of my territory is designed specifically for just that. As long as I get them all in the end, it’s my win.”
Ludmila frowned. She was starting to become curious about Lady Shalltear’s territory. She had heard of defences that were designed in such a way that breaches were both expected and anticipated, but never had she heard of any schemes that allowed invaders to run rampant over vast amounts of important territory.
“But what if they get past you?” She asked, “Won’t the territories further inland be at risk? What about your duties?”
“They would have to step over my dead body to advance into the next territory,” Lady Shalltear answered. “If they did, well, they would be in for a long swim through the Underground Lake. Gargantua would be dealing with them then.”
“…this doesn’t happen often, does it?”
“There’s only been one major incursion in the past. An army of invaders managed to get through me, Gargantua, Cocytus, Aura, Mare and Demiurge.”
“Just how in the…did they take some route that circumvented your territories?”
“Oh, no – there’s no way around, so they just fought their way through…but then the forces commanded by Aureole annihilated them.”
Her statement beggared the imagination. Just who were the Sorcerous Kingdom’s enemies? Considering the age of Lady Aura and Lord Mare, the invasion Lady Shalltear described should have been recent, but such a calamitous conflict would have surely been known the world over. Even the tale of the Eight Greed Kings was still widespread after nearly five centuries, and she thought that the Sorcerer King’s servants might be as strong as they.
“Aureole…the Human commander you mentioned back then?”
“Yes, that’s right,” Lady Shalltear smiled, “it’s my hope that you’ll become something like her in the future.”
“That’s, uh…this feels like a very lofty goal, my lady.”
“Well, keep at it. In the future, I’m sure you’ll laugh at the memory of your worries here. At any rate, we’ve digressed – what was it that you wanted to say?”
Ludmila blinked, trying to figure out where they had left off.
“The expectations that accompany your defensive duties appear to be a bit different from my own,” she said. “The foremost duty of a Frontier Noble is to keep the border secure against external threats. Nobles in general are granted land by their liege with the expectation that they will develop it into a productive territory and contribute to the growth of the realm. Having Demihuman invaders freely running around my territory or even striking off inland is decidedly counter to those duties.”
“Hm…that’s understandable enough, I think. These Human territories are so terribly fragile compared to our own.”
“I’ve made the effort to mitigate that somewhat,” Ludmila said, “but the best option is to not allow the chance for harm at all. There’s also another problem, which might be unique to my demesne.”
“What’s that?” Lady Shalltear asked.
“Nearly all of the Humans here,” Ludmila answered, “including me, are followers of the Six Great Gods. We might have grown to become more tolerant than our brothers and sisters in the faith to the south, but, by and large, we do not possess a generally positive outlook when it comes to non-Humans. I’ve been tasked to integrate the Lizardmen into my demesne, and more Demihumans may move into the territory. This is already a monumental challenge; having other Demihumans running around causing mayhem will cripple any efforts to fulfil His Majesty’s desire to promote good relations between the peoples that will come to live here.”
“So invasion by this army is something you cannot risk at all…how about adding the Skeletal labourers and Bone Vultures to your border defences? They are still essentially fighting forces, even if they’re not being used for other things.”
“There are so few that they cannot be used as a reliable force. From what I’ve seen of them, the Skeletal labourers are somewhere around the strength of a lightly-armed Gold-rank Adventurer, while the Bone Vultures are a bit stronger than that.”
Looking back down to the map, Ludmila pointed to the growing number of markers indicating Goblin encampments.
“Hobgoblins are some of the most unwelcome of threats that can befall a border territory,” she said. “They don’t just gather other Goblinoids to them: they train them as well, turning them into soldiers that can be just as strong as Imperial Legionnaires. My baseline assumption is that everything out there is equivalent to a Silver-rank Adventurer or better. Though their equipment is most likely crude, they will still have rudimentary Martial Arts, quite a number of magic casters, and a mix of irregular forces made out of the other races that they’ve managed to pick up along the way.”
“I see,” Lady Shalltear nodded lightly. “So you’re saying that the other Undead forces in your demesne are too close to these Goblins in strength, so they can easily be overwhelmed by the sheer number of them.”
“That’s right – the best I can hope for when it comes to them is to form a single contingent out of the Skeletal labourers and set them to defend some position. The Bone Vultures are being used for limited reconnaissance and can be organized into groups that harry loose enemy forces if need be. There’s also the chance that they have some flying monsters like Manticores or Griffons that they’ve tamed and turned into aerial forces, so I need to hold a few dozen in reserve. Death Knights are the only reliable defenders I have in this situation, and having only five means that I cannot hold the border properly.”
“Why do you say that?” Lady Shalltear asked.
Ludmila gestured to the stretch of territory bordering the vale that the Demihumans were most likely to approach.
“Because I have an 80 kilometre stretch of mountain passes that I need to defend along this border,” Ludmila answered, “assuming they don’t somehow crawl over the mountains further west. As powerful as our Death Knights are, they can only be in one place at any one time. Our opponents won’t be conveniently queueing up for the Death Knights to kill them – tens of thousands of them might be coming through passes five to ten kilometres across. Most will make it in, and once they get into the forests on the other side, the Death Knights won’t be able to find them. Seeing my fortified villages, they may also just decide to move on to raid the territories further inland, which would be an absolute debacle.”
“Hm…I’ll admit that this isn’t a problem that I have with my realm,” Lady Shalltear said. “Any way in is narrow and clear enough that something like a Death Knight would have no issues holding any of the routes against these Goblins. With the knowledge that the administration has rejected your request for additional forces, what was your plan?”
Ludmila pointed down to the markers placed in the middle of each pass.
“This, pretty much,” she said. “I doubt they’ll come through the canyon, but I can’t risk it…this effectively leaves me with four Death Knights for four passes. Since His Majesty has explicitly prohibited us from performing acts of unwarranted aggression against our neighbours, all I can do is wait and see if they’ll give me an excuse to retaliate.”
“…retaliate?”
“Yes,” Ludmila replied. “Retaliate. I cannot afford to wait for them to swarm in, but I also cannot preemptively attack them due to our national policy, which I am obliged to uphold. The next best option is to go on the offensive after I am provided with justification to do so.”
“Meaning you’ll lead your forces out into the wilderness and attack the Goblin army…to be honest, it’s not something that we would normally consider. Unless we’re performing some duty for His Majesty, or we perceive that some great danger has befallen him beyond our borders, defence of the realm is the order of the day.”
“I didn’t note any amendments to the crown laws that state this,” Ludmila said. “Is it some sort of unspoken rule or custom?”
“A custom, perhaps?” Lady Shalltear replied, “Our realm is defensive in nature, and leaving it to go on the offensive against potential invaders is unheard of.”
“How would this apply to me?”
“As long as you do not run afoul of the laws laid out for His Majesty’s subjects, I suppose that you’re free to enact whatever measures you wish. This wilderness is unclaimed by any nation, so your actions will be unrestricted out there.”
Ludmila crossed her arms, trying to figure out the best course of action as she stared down at the map of the upper reaches. Her entire plan hinged on the Goblin army sending something to scout out the passes. Undead were reviled almost universally, so the chance was nearly guaranteed that at least one skirmish on the border would occur before they realized just how tough Death Knights were and opted to evade them instead.
She would need to keep as many scouting parties from returning to report as possible, then stop any small warbands that attempted to cross the pass after something eventually made it back to their commanders. In that small window of opportunity, her retaliation would have to disorder the nearest Goblin encampments enough to arrest their momentum.
With the forces on hand, however, the main avenue she had to accomplish this would be to silence the encampments one at a time, and she doubted that it would be effective enough to suit her purposes. Maybe there were alternatives…
“What about the Goblin army that’s stationed around Carne village?” Ludmila said, “Would diplomacy be possible through them?”
“They’re an entirely different population,” Lady Shalltear said. “Do Humans all get along just because they’re all Humans?”
She figured that would be the case. Demihumans warred between one another just as much – no, probably more – than they did with Humans. Since the buildup in the upper reaches represented a threat to the Theocracy as well, perhaps she could coordinate something with them…
“The more I think about it,” Lady Shalltear’s voice interrupted her thoughts, “the more I fancy this idea of going out and making a mess out of these Goblins.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” she nodded, “but I won’t deprive you of your duty. I have a better idea of your position now, but I still can’t override the administration’s decision…how about I lend you a few of my vassals?”
Ludmila turned her attention away from the map, looking to Lady Shalltear beside her.
“You would do this for me, my lady?”
“It is within the bounds of our contract, is it not?”
“Yes, my lady.”
“Then, hm…well, nothing too strong. Below Death Knights in strength. No Dragons.”
The idea that Dragons may have been an option hadn’t even crossed Ludmila’s mind. One would certainly wreak havoc if they had no way to answer being attacked from the air…
“Then,” Ludmila said, “if you don’t mind, the three Shadow Demons that worked with us in Fassett County.”
“I did say a few,” Lady Shalltear frowned, “but is that enough? You were panicking over not having more than a dozen Death Knights on top of everything else.”
“Yes,” Ludmila replied with a smile. “The Death Knights were the best option presented by the request forms, so I required a great number of them to conduct an appropriate defence in a place that suited their strengths. I will, of course, accept any additional assistance you would be willing to offer, but, with a few Shadow Demons, the scope of what I can accomplish will broaden immeasurably…”