Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 (140 page)

Navarien grinned as he returned the salute, but he finished the gesture with a comradely slap to Cragson’s shoulder. Wotan was watching with a small smile on his face, but his bodyguard was staring intently as if about to attack. Navarien shivered at the intense look of mayhem in those eyes. Why he should be the target for it he didn’t know—unless they had heard of his dislike for sorcerers. That might be it. He had better disabuse this man of his hostility, he decided.

“—is General Navarien. General, this is your new lead mage the Lord Sorcerer Wotan, and his…
companion
Magar,” Cragson said indicating each man.

Navarien bowed and shook each man’s hand. Wotan was genuinely pleased to meet him, he decided, and he found that he reciprocated. Anyone who could motivate this kind of effort was worth knowing. Magar on the other hand had not changed his opinion; at least Navarien thought he had not. Magar was watching him as if he saw the words
enemy
stamped on his forehead. Maybe he saw everyone that way.

“I’m impressed, my lord sorcerer. I mean that sincerely. I’ve never seen such industry from so many men at once.”

Wotan nodded his thanks. “Call me Wotan, won’t you?”

He tried not to frown. The last time a sorcerer had said that was when Belgard had thrown his legion to the wolves.

“If you wish it, Wotan,” he said with a nod. “I’ve already received some reports from my men, but have you new orders for me?”

“I have them, General, but I think your study would be the better place for such discussions. I can meet you there in a few moments. I have to hand over the work to Odelyn first.”

Navarien bowed acceptance. “I would have you there with me, Cragson. Give your flaming flute to one of the others and follow me up would you?”

“Yes Sir,” Cragson said grinning at the distaste he showed toward his noisemaker.

“In a short while then my lo… Wotan,” he said stumbling over Wotan’s title.

“Yes, General, soon.”

Navarien turned away and made for the hostel. Even here, changes had been made. The lower room with his map table had been reorganised and the tables replaced in their original places. The maps were now pinned to a large easel. More of Turner’s work by the look of it. Navarien didn’t know what he felt about all the changes made without him, but this one was useful. The captains and sergeants had room to sit at the tables while viewing the maps directly ahead, instead of leaning over each other as before.

He took a long look at the standards pinned to the map, and nodded. They were up to date, but many of the pins had just a piece of parchment on them indicating numbers, rather than the miniature standards that were usually used. He would have the men carve some more to represent their maniples.

He studied the map. It was as Meran said; Tikva, Duer, and Bannan were to the north with their men and nearly ten thousand of the new arrivals. That meant he had almost thirteen thousand outside the walls and training hard. It was still hard to believe. Thirteen thousand was more men than he had ever commanded, yet it was less than half under his present command! Someone had thoughtfully pinned a sheet of parchment to the upper right hand corner of the map stating the composition of the legion, and all the supplies on hand.

He amended the number of horses with a piece of charcoal. Instead of a thousand horses, it now read:
nine thousand approx
. He nodded at the figure and wondered how many horses the clans had nearby. Enough for twenty-eight thousand? He doubted that very much. It looked as if the ideas he had bounced off Tikva on their way to Calvados would be put into practice.

Combined infantry/cavalry campaign? No, that didn’t sound right somehow. Combined arms campaign? That sounded better, but how about dropping the word
campaign
and just calling it combined arms? That would do he decided. He would call it that when he explained his plans to his men.

He made his way to his room to change. It didn’t look as if he would have time for sleep. Wotan was coming with his orders, and then he had to catch up on what was happening and where. After that, he had plans to make with Cragson. He would invite Tikva along as well, he decided. That boy had a good head for strategy.

* * *

Wotan watched the general enter the hostel that everyone called the General’s Place. “He seemed tired, but excited by what he saw here, wouldn’t you say?”

Cragson nodded. “Using a single battalion to take on the clans would be exhausting—especially when we can’t afford losses. As it is, that hundred he lost hurt him and not just in manpower, my lord sorcerer. He’s a good man as well as the best general ever born. He hates losing as you would expect, but he hates losing his men more.”

“What do you think he thought of our fortress?”

Cragson snorted. “It was plain to see, my lord sorcerer. He was excited by the cooperation he saw, but he feels there must be a catch. Forgive me for saying so, but the legion has been ill used in the past by sorcerers.”

Wotan frowned. “Athione you mean.”

“That was the worst time, but we had some close scrapes in Bandar a few years ago as well. Still, I think you will find us ready to work with you my lord sorcerer. It’s amazing how bad times are forgotten when good times come around again. Looking around here, I think the Fifth has entered very good times indeed!”

Wotan chuckled and excused Cragson as he went looking for someone to take charge of his flute.

“Where’s that bastard Odelyn?” Wotan muttered scanning the square.

“I haven’t seen him this morning, but if you want to hand things over to someone responsible, Anius is just over there,” Magar nodded to a middle-aged sorcerer who was busy pounding a stone into dust.

“You’re right my friend. I wouldn’t be surprised if Odelyn incinerated the legionnaires for a jest. Call Anius over would you?”

Magar hesitated, but dashed away and was back at Wotan’s side moments later.

“I’m perfectly safe, Magar, no need to dash about!” Wotan said shaking his head at his panting friend.

“I always liked running.”

“You could have called him with your magic you know.”

Magar smiled sheepishly. “I forgot.”

Wotan laughed good-naturedly at his friend’s embarrassment.

Anius handed his place to one of the others and made his way through the chaos toward Wotan. The man walked with his hands clasped and thrust out of sight within the voluminous sleeves of his robe. He was completely oblivious to the rushing men that nearly collided with him.

“What can I do for you, Wotan?” Anius said with a bow.

Wotan returned it quickly and explained.

“That’s not a problem. Where is… ah here they come now.”

Wotan turned and saw Cragson accompanying an under captain that he hadn’t yet met.

“May I present Under Captain Nissus, my lord sorcerer?”

Wotan nodded. “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Nissus. This is Anius; you two will be working together for a while. I don’t want to hear of any accidents while I’m gone. Clear?”

“Yes, my lord sorcerer,” Nissus said with a nod.

“Certainly it is Wotan,” Anius said with a smile.

“Good, I won’t be long. Come with me my friends,” Wotan said to Magar and Cragson as he walked toward the General’s Place.

Wotan found Navarien sitting at his desk going through a stack of parchment. Ship manifests if he was not mistaken.

“Take a seat. Ah… I don’t appear to have enough. Would you mind standing, Cragson?”

“No Sir, I prefer—” Cragson broke off as Magar spoke.

“I will stand,” Magar said stepping beside the closed door as if guarding it, which he was of course.

“Don’t mind Magar, General. He takes the guarding of my life a little too seriously sometimes.”

“That is not possible,” grumbled Magar.

Wotan laughed. “See what I mean?”

“Ah yes I suppose…” he frowned. “Please take a seat, Wotan.”

Wotan sat opposite the general. Cragson slid a chair closer to the wall so that he had his back well clear of the window. A soldier’s reflex, or was he playing bodyguard as Magar was? The latter Wotan decided with a smile.

Wotan crossed his legs and leaned back with his hands clasped. “Well, General, here we are. I have been looking forward to meeting you ever since my father discussed your last campaign with me. Brilliant work with the siege towers by the way, and the stone thrower… amazing what can be done when there’s a pressing need. All without magic too!”

“Thank you for the endorsement, but it was Captain Turner—then Sergeant Turner—who designed and built those devices. I simply encouraged him and supplied him with what he needed.”

“Ah yes! The redoubtable Captain Turner. I met him the first day. He asked for some help lifting a walloping big stone he had his eye on. Apparently the winch kept breaking when his men tried to lift it with his crane.”

Navarien shook his head. “That sounds like Turner all right.”

“I hope you don’t mind my people mucking in down below?”

“Mind!” Navarien said in surprise. “Ah… no, not at all. To tell the truth I was surprised but very pleased to see it. Magic being used in such a manner is awesome to behold. It has always seemed a shame to me that magic is only used for destruction, but now I see the other side of the coin.”

Wotan was pleased they saw things in a similar way. “I know exactly how you feel. It is very satisfying building something that will endure long after you and I are gone.”

Navarien nodded seriously. “Well, let us discuss the next step. You have orders for me?”

“I certainly do, though I doubt you will be surprised. I noticed you have already made a start with your round up of local horses.”

Navarien nodded and reached for the sealed packet of orders that Wotan held out to him. He sat back to read, and after a few moments refolded them and handed them to Cragson to read.

That the general trusted Cragson was already evident, but Wotan was still surprised by the courtesy. They all waited until Cragson had read the parchment and handed them back before continuing the conversation.

“Would you care to read them, Wotan?” Navarien offered.

Wotan smiled at the offer. He was already beginning to trust him, just as his father said he would. Work with him, and he will come around, Godwinson had said, and here they were!

“No thank you, I already know what they contain.”

“Oh?” Navarien said with a frown as he looked at the seal.

“I know because I helped my father write them.”

Navarien stiffened, and reread the signature on the documents. “Godwinson is your father?”

“I’m afraid so,” Wotan said with a smile. “Not that paternity means anything within our ranks—just like the Legions. Lord Mortain—may he live forever—chose me to be your lead mage not my father.” Wotan leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, “Actually, my father was a little miffed when he was told. He wanted me to stay with him for another few years, but I must say I was delighted with my posting. It gives me a chance to use my magic for something worthwhile.”

“Pacifying the clans will not be easy, Wotan, but I believe it can be done. I assume you watched the raids via mirror?”

Wotan nodded.

“I thought you might have. Those attacks were unbelievably easy when you compare them to what we went through in taking the cities. I doubt that will continue, but whether it does or not, I do not intend to take the chance. I have more than enough cavalry to take on the larger clan camps now. With luck and your help Wotan, I will reduce the locals’ ability to make war on us to nothing, and then move south repeating the procedure. Eventually we should cross into Deva secure in the knowledge that the clans cannot harm our rear.”

“I assume you have detailed assignments for my mages?”

“Yes I do. Demophon has already demonstrated the effectiveness of combining arms in battle. I will add a large concentration of infantry to the mix also. With a magic bombardment from the rear, quickly followed by cavalry charges, the infantry will march in and mop up—in theory at least. I won’t know how well it will work until we try it out, but once we know, we can modify the tactic until we have it as near foolproof as possible.”

“It sounds good,” Wotan said. “But have you considered what will happen when you try to charge a shaman?”

“I have thought on it of course, but have you suggestions to make?”

“I have two hundred mages of various strengths and talents,” Wotan said laying out his plans. “What I had thought to do was arrange them into groups tasked with particular parts of your plan, General. For example: I assume you will want a bombardment before sending in your cavalry?”

“Absolutely!” Navarien nodded emphatically.

“As I thought. I believe that I can guarantee the best mages for the job will be tasked to provide that for you, and another group tasked with warding, another to keep each of your battalions in communication with you and each other—the list goes on. In the past, a Legion had fifty mages that threw fire or warded themselves and that was all they did. What I propose to do is make us an integral part of your force, one with a special part to play, true, but still a definite part.”

Navarien stared hungrily at him, and Wotan smiled. What he was offering the man was nothing short of the strongest force ever assembled. Almost three legions in strength of arms, with two hundred mages not just supporting but actively participating day to day. It was no wonder he was drooling—figuratively of course.

“You will do this?”

“I will,” Wotan said simply.

“By the God! We will own Waipara in five years!” Navarien said reverently.

That, of course, was the idea, Wotan thought smugly.

* * *

Demophon poured Odelyn another glass of wine making sure to fill it to the brim.

“Here my friend, get that down and you’ll feel better about things,” he said trying to sound sympathetic and not how he really felt.

What an idiot! How had this fool ever survived the training? It was certainly a puzzle, but one that didn’t really concern his future plans for Odelyn. This fool was the perfect tool to give him the legion. The prize was even bigger than before. Who would have thought Mortain would have the guts to send so many mages and men? Certainly not he, Demophon mused.