“The biggest difficulty in war is that sometimes, you know that you have to do something, yet are unable to do it, for any of a variety of reasons. Getting shit done when you need them done is an art in itself during wartime, I swear.” - “Warlord” Gregoria Samsonova, famed mercenary captain from the Elmaiya Empire, circa 639 FP.
“How soon can we return?” asked Estelle to the gathered military commanders in the tent.
At the moment, the combined force from Levain and Caroma had just continued their southwards thrust, halfway through conquering another three states that were part of the Southern Coalition, when they received news from their respective home cities about the impending threat of an invasion from their northern and eastern neighbors.
Given their alliance, and how the two armies were working together at the moment, Marshal Publius Cornelius had called for an emergency joint meeting between the higher-ups of both forces. The disconcerted looks in the face of the gathered military commanders did little to assuage Estelle’s worries about her city, though.
“The timing was bad,” admitted Marshal Barca with a shake of her head. “We had just sent out our troops to hunt down the remnants in Agoloch and Jenis shortly before the messages arrived. It would take us a minimum of three or four days to regather those troops, and another three or four to prepare for the return. That is under the premise that we give up on both of those states.”
“Ours aren’t that much better,” said Estelle honestly. “We can’t afford to withdraw until all the people who agreed to follow us have been evacuated from Nagos and Ecira, otherwise we’d be breaking the very principle we stand for… Even in our best estimates it would take at least another week to finish the evacuation there.”
“Honestly, the wait itself isn’t too big an issue. We received these reports very early thanks to your mercenaries’ flying scouts, so those armies we are informed about are still at least a week or two away from actually attacking our lands,” noted the female Marshal, to the nods of most commanders present. “What I’m worried about is if they also contacted the Coalition. If we are forced to battle them because they are preventing our withdrawal, that would waste more of our time and allow their armies to strike our homelands.”
“Do you think that’s a likely thing to happen, Marshal?” asked Albrecht respectfully. While he technically had seniority over the Caroman Marshals by virtue of having served in the former empire’s army before the two were even born and was technically of a similar rank to them in Levain, his old habits led to his respectful speech. “Would the Coalition be willing to do such a thing? If they were to attempt to delay us, we would cripple their military as a whole, even in the best case.”
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“Normally I’d say that rulers of a nation shouldn’t be that foolish, Albrecht, but we had examples of our own of those types. Look at de Kars and his cronies back then,” interjected Estelle before either of the Marshals could respond. “All the intelligence we have of the Coalition suggests that most of their leaders were much like him in demeanor, so I wouldn’t put this sort of idiocy past them, if someone were to bait them with a lure that tickles their fancy.”
“As pessimistic as the idea might be, I believe what Chairwoman Estelle said just now has merit,” affirmed Marshal Cornelius with a nod. “We have been foes with the Southern Coalition for most of our existence, so I like to think that our intelligence on them would be more complete. Every bit of information I have indicated that at least two of the current first lords are short-sighted fools, however. The other two are too new to their status that our people haven’t managed to truly grasp their personalities yet, but one of them has a slew of bad rumors surrounding him.”
“Oh?”
“There are far too many stories about how the youngest son of the Dukoz house of Sebaque is a wastrel, a good for nothing that only knows how to abuse his family’s power and spend their money,” elaborated Publius with a sigh. “That youngest son also happened to be the only survivor of the family’s direct line after… well… after you put the rest of them to the torch a few months ago, Chairwoman.”
“Oh.”
“I guess if those from the Regency or the March dangle a tasty enough bait to those fools, especially since one of them already has a grudge against us, they would bite right away,” said Marshal Barca with a wistful sigh. “I propose that we prepare for immediate withdrawal while maintaining full alert for enemy attack, since it looks like it’s more than likely to happen now.”
“Is it bad that right now I’m wishing that one of the more competent sons had been left behind instead of the fool?” asked Estelle rhetorically. If the new High Lord of Sebaque was competent they would likely see the bait being dangled for what it was, and there was hope that the lords of the coalition would end up bickering amongst themselves. “I support the Marshal’s proposal. Commander Duncan, see that it is done properly once we return.”
“As you command, madam Chairwoman,” replied Albrecht from beside Estelle. The old commander was used to following orders, and wasn’t the best decision-maker when it comes to larger decisions, where he favored deferring to those of higher ranks, but he was by far the most efficient commander that Estelle had working for Levain.
Whatever the orders given, Albrecht Duncan would see them done, no matter what.
“We should also make our preparations, I guess,” noted Marshal Barca. “I will send out my cavalry to scout towards our south if that’s agreeable with you. They carry messenger birds with them, so they can inform us of any enemy on the way sooner than yours can.”
“That would be much appreciated, Marshal. I thank you for your generosity,” replied Estelle with a nod. The situation had developed in an unpleasant way, but there were still ways to turn it into a victory regardless.