kawa~ inspiration #18
Jan. 12th, 2005 12:54 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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yrae
Title~ Battle Tactics
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Back to being all mine again
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration #18. Just like the title says *nods* This took way~ longer to write than it should've .-.
~ ~ ~
Mithé held his hands out imploringly to his son. “Nolryn…” He stopped, took a breath and reasoned with himself. Yelling would not solve anything, especially with this boy. “Nolryn,” he began again, his voice straining to keep back the frustration he knew was evident in it, “I have lost count of the number of times I have tried explaining this to you, and still you do not understand.”
“No, Majesty, I don’t,” the prince flung back. “No amount of explaining will make me understand why you wish to send the Own on a four month journey into Kazin and have us do nothing but talk.”
“Not every situation can be solved with nothing but bravado,” Mithé countered calmly.
“Surely you’ve realised by now that Kazinians care nothing for negotiating with words.” Nolryn was beginning to sound desperate now. “We tried it four years ago, we tried it last year… even you tried talking with them the year before last, and absolutely nothing has come of it. It seems as though every second campaign we leave on is to talk with Kazinian Queens about their people attacking our caravans.” He braced his hands on the desk and spoke slowly and clearly. “It is not working.”
Mithé massaged his temples gently. “And what would you propose? That we kill every Kazinian south of Silrona?”
“Majesty, I have seen more of Kazin than yourself. Blades and arrows are the only language they understand. Every attempt at negotiating, with one exception, has lost us a good fighter, the most recent loss was that of our General. None of us wish to see that again.”
“Instead of complaining about my plan, perhaps you’d care to put forward your own.”
The prince took a deep breath and leant back in his chair. Mithé could see by the stern lines in his forehead, the square set of his jaw and the darkness of his eyes that Nolryn had thought his plan through. The king couldn’t help but hold his breath, anticipating one of the rare moments when his son actually looked like a ruler.
“Remove this latest group of bandits—”
Mithé sighed in exasperation, resting his head in one hand.
“Could you at least give me some time to finish talking?”
The king waved his other hand, reluctantly letting him continue.
“Remove this latest threat, then station, say, Second and Third Company along the routes into Kazin. Right now, the bandits know that they have perhaps four months before word of their exploits reaches Ni-Yana, then a further two or three until the Own rides up to Silrona to talk to whoever their queen-of-the-moment is, before we all leave again and let them on their way. All that’s up there to stop them is Ni-Horia, and they’re hardly a threat.
“If we have a constant presence there—perhaps not as strong as that of the Own, but a Raykinian presence nonetheless—then they can deal with the bandits, scare them off before too many caravans have been taken.”
“And then have Kazin declare war on us,” Mithé finished.
Nolryn shook his head. “Kazin doesn’t have enough organisational skills to attack us en masse. Their army hates Empress Shizaaqa. At worst, Silrona and Sissillya would declare war, and their armies are hardly threatening.”
Mithé scratched his beard thoughtfully, thinking through the logistics of Nol’s plan. Finally, he nodded. “It’s not genius, but it might not hurt to try something new.
The prince’s face broke into a relieved grin, and he hastily pressed his hands together under his chest. “Thank you, Majesty.”
Author~ Annarti
Disclaimer~ Back to being all mine again
Notes~ kawa~ inspiration #18. Just like the title says *nods* This took way~ longer to write than it should've .-.
Mithé held his hands out imploringly to his son. “Nolryn…” He stopped, took a breath and reasoned with himself. Yelling would not solve anything, especially with this boy. “Nolryn,” he began again, his voice straining to keep back the frustration he knew was evident in it, “I have lost count of the number of times I have tried explaining this to you, and still you do not understand.”
“No, Majesty, I don’t,” the prince flung back. “No amount of explaining will make me understand why you wish to send the Own on a four month journey into Kazin and have us do nothing but talk.”
“Not every situation can be solved with nothing but bravado,” Mithé countered calmly.
“Surely you’ve realised by now that Kazinians care nothing for negotiating with words.” Nolryn was beginning to sound desperate now. “We tried it four years ago, we tried it last year… even you tried talking with them the year before last, and absolutely nothing has come of it. It seems as though every second campaign we leave on is to talk with Kazinian Queens about their people attacking our caravans.” He braced his hands on the desk and spoke slowly and clearly. “It is not working.”
Mithé massaged his temples gently. “And what would you propose? That we kill every Kazinian south of Silrona?”
“Majesty, I have seen more of Kazin than yourself. Blades and arrows are the only language they understand. Every attempt at negotiating, with one exception, has lost us a good fighter, the most recent loss was that of our General. None of us wish to see that again.”
“Instead of complaining about my plan, perhaps you’d care to put forward your own.”
The prince took a deep breath and leant back in his chair. Mithé could see by the stern lines in his forehead, the square set of his jaw and the darkness of his eyes that Nolryn had thought his plan through. The king couldn’t help but hold his breath, anticipating one of the rare moments when his son actually looked like a ruler.
“Remove this latest group of bandits—”
Mithé sighed in exasperation, resting his head in one hand.
“Could you at least give me some time to finish talking?”
The king waved his other hand, reluctantly letting him continue.
“Remove this latest threat, then station, say, Second and Third Company along the routes into Kazin. Right now, the bandits know that they have perhaps four months before word of their exploits reaches Ni-Yana, then a further two or three until the Own rides up to Silrona to talk to whoever their queen-of-the-moment is, before we all leave again and let them on their way. All that’s up there to stop them is Ni-Horia, and they’re hardly a threat.
“If we have a constant presence there—perhaps not as strong as that of the Own, but a Raykinian presence nonetheless—then they can deal with the bandits, scare them off before too many caravans have been taken.”
“And then have Kazin declare war on us,” Mithé finished.
Nolryn shook his head. “Kazin doesn’t have enough organisational skills to attack us en masse. Their army hates Empress Shizaaqa. At worst, Silrona and Sissillya would declare war, and their armies are hardly threatening.”
Mithé scratched his beard thoughtfully, thinking through the logistics of Nol’s plan. Finally, he nodded. “It’s not genius, but it might not hurt to try something new.
The prince’s face broke into a relieved grin, and he hastily pressed his hands together under his chest. “Thank you, Majesty.”