Chapter 39 – Setting Standards
The following morning a single figure marched across the plan to the Forsaken encampment. Arnhvatr assembled his officers and stood ahead of his army. The figure carried a long pole, but the standard on it was furled. There was no armor, no uniform and no insignia. There were a few murmurs when the figure was close enough to see that it was Devonshire, alone.
She marched straight towards the assembled officers. Arnhvatr took a few steps forward to meet her. However, she took an abrupt right turn, took a few paces, took a left turn, and came to a stop after a few final paces in front of Winter. Arnhvatr looked questioningly at Winter, raising an eyebrow.
“Reporting for duty, sir”, she said, saluting.
Arnhvatr raised his other eyebrow.
“I, uh”, began Winter. “Thought we could use some magical support.”
Arnhvatr nodded slowly. “Yes”, he said. “Undoubtedly we can.”
“So I am, um, taking on... Devonshire... as the Captain of my guard”, he said.
Arnhvatr nodded again. “So be it”, he said.
A trumpet sounded and the vanguard of the 22nd marched onto the field, escorting their choices for champion today.
Devonshire assumed her place behind Winter with a wink.
“Tell me you didn't desert”, said Winter. “This isn't worth your career.”
Devonshire snorted. “My military career is a consequence of swearing an oath of service to Scioni. It's a side effect. I am of House Scioni first and foremost. And there is no question in my mind that if Scioni was alive today, he would have expected me to do what I did.”
Winter smiled lopsided. “I wish I could have met him more than a few times.”
“You have. He lives on in all our actions”, said Devonshire. “Not the least in our Queen. Who gave me personal leave for this.”
Winter looked surprised. “She did? That’s... I guess she was thinking the same thing you were.” Devonshire nodded. “Did she send the banner?”
Devonshire looked up at it, and smiled. “No. I had time to run a few errands first.” She unrolled it. The background was green and picked out across it in golden stars was the form of a trident. It was the northernmost constellation; the symbol of the Northern Seas.
Winter drew in a deep breath. “Cindarina sent it?” he asked.
“Cindarina made it”, said Devonshire. “She'd been working on it for a while. Figured it was time to unfurl it.”
“Yes”, said Winter, eyes misty. “Yes. It should fly at my side. Makaira will bear it.”
Devonshire passed it off. “It would be politic to also fly the Forsaken flag. Do they have one?”
“No”, said Winter. “I'm not really sure they would care.”
“I care”, said Devonshire. “I figure if I hold it opposite of Makaira then they'll be less likely to assume I'm a spy in their midst.”
Winter sighed deeply. “You and Cindarina are the diplomats. You are right as usual.” He looked at Arnhvatr receiving General Porterhouse. “See the stick figure on his chest? That's the first letter of his name. Why don't you use that?”
“OK”, said Devonshire. “Let’s make it white on black, to match their skeletal appearance.” She waved her hands and a pole and long silky banner appeared. They were the same form and shape as the Northern Seas banner, but with a different design. Devonshire considered it, and then cast another spell on both it and the other one. “Just a bit more practicality.” She placed the banner upright on the earth and let go. It stood without assistance. She nodded to Makaira and he did the same.
“Now you're just showing off”, said Winter.
“Been with the Orcs too long”, said Devonshire, grinning.
In the early afternoon, not long after the last of the defeated 22nd champions were sent on their way, word came to Winter that there was to be an officer's meeting.
“That's different”, said Winter. “Maybe Arnhvatr is ready to make his move.”
“He can't sit here playing forever if he's going to do something before the new moon”, said Devonshire.
The two of them joined the rest in a small dell that Arnhvatr used as his command post. He nodded to them, and made no comment about Devonshire's inclusion. The others looked at her uncertainly, but didn't say anything.
“The new moon approaches”, said Arnhvatr. “We have three armies to eliminate before then. If we're to intercept each, we need to start tonight. Once we attack the first, word will get to the other two. Starting now gives us time to adjust our approach based on their reaction.” He then proceeded to describe the landscape of the area as reported by the scouts, and plot out the best path that would keep them hidden for the longest.
“Boys, boys, boys”, said Devonshire when he paused. “Your thinking is fifteen centuries out of date.”
The Forsaken officers glared harshly at her. Even Winter looked a little surprised. Arnhvatr showed no expression. “You have some advice to add?”
“Have you learned nothing from fighting Romitu?” Devonshire asked.
“Only that they fight as if one arm and one leg have been chopped off”, said one officer.
“Then why haven't your fellow armies torn them to shreds?” asked Devonshire.
“Because they use their magic like a crutch to make up for their lack of spine and skill”, said the officer.
“Precisely”, said Devonshire. She leaned forward. “Now imagine an army as beefy and bold as yourselves that also used magic.”
There was complete quiet.
“What did you have in mind?” said Arnhvatr, breaking the silence.
“Sir.” Devonshire smiled and raised finger. “Battle magic. I've got spells that will make you faster and stronger, with better vision and hearing.” She raised another finger. “You've looted enough Romitu equipment. It's better than the bones and stones you started with. But you aren't even touching its intrinsic magic. I can activate that, and slave it to you. The armor will actively deflect blows; the swords can burn, freeze, and fight on even after you drop.” She raised a third finger. “Gates. The reason Romitu conquered the world is gates. You don't need to spend days marching across the wilderness. We gate to the first army, cut it to ribbons, and then gate to the second one before the fastest scout can inform them. No approach to hide. You get the element of surprise against all three armies.”
The officers looked skeptical and hesitant.
“You know how to do all of this?” asked Arnhvatr.
“Know how?” said Devonshire. “I designed most of those spells. I am, or was, head of the college of magic!”
Thin grins began spreading around the circle. Except for Winter.
“Mana”, he said. “Even tactical gates take a chunk of mana. More than your personal reservoir. Where are you going to get the mana? Are you still connected to the strategic mana reserve?”
“I couldn't do that”, said Devonshire. “That would be going a bit far. The reserve is all but empty these days anyway. We get the mana from the same place Romitu gets most of it from these days. From a god.”
“Which...” started Winter, then he stopped. “From me? But I don't know...”
Devonshire reached out, and pulled a glowing ethereal strand of opalescence from Winter. She snapped her fingers and all the loose rocks around the circle flew high into the air. “You're positively bursting with it”, she said.
Winter looked at his hands, shocked. “It must be the oaths. You guys really believe in me?”
“It's an interesting topic”, said Devonshire. “You Forsaken are very focused. I wonder if a preternaturally strong Will drives stronger mana creation. I'd love to look into it sometime.”
“Time”, said Arnhvatr. “How much time does it take to set up and transit one of these... gates?”
“How long does it take to train your troops to march in a straight line?” said Devonshire. “We have some complicated drills we use in Romitu. But we train for all sorts of deployments. I think fo
r this sort of operation we should just keep it simple. Give me fifteen minutes to set up and anchor the gate. It'll be wide enough for three to march abreast. The faster you get through the better. Both for tactical reasons, and mana depletion reasons.”
“And these other magics? Is there preparation time? Can you enhance the whole army?”
Devonshire shrugged. “The weapons I can start doing now. The gate will buy us the time we would have spent marching. The battle magic has to be done on site. I probably can't do the whole army. But I can do it unit by unit. Either the weakest first, to even things out, or the strongest first, to create a vanguard. It's up to you.”
Arnhvatr stroked his chin. “Your advice is risky, because it is untried. But because it is untried, it is unexpected.” He turned to his other officers. “We have been fighting one another for centuries. We know each other's styles. We adapt and adjust to that. But we've lacked new enemies for so long that our biggest failing is being predictable. I do not fully trust this approach because I cannot fully evaluate it. But I know that our enemies will not be able to evaluate it at all. And that, above all else, recommends it to me.” He turned back to Devonshire. “I think I would like to see some demonstrations. “