Fourth Vector Ch. 41

"No, most of them will be down south with what's left of my army," replied Ferberg. "But I think you'll find that Dagobern will be a tougher nut to crack than you think. As for a siege of twenty-four hours, I think you'll find that the city won't be nearly softened up in time to make your assault tomorrow."

Jack's eyes narrowed. "What makes you say that?"

"Come this way," said Ferberg as he stood once again and moved outside the tent. Jack followed him cautiously until they were out in the opening, where there was a decent view of the city before them.

Ferberg pointed to the imperial palace perched on the highest hill of the city. "See that hill right in the center? That's Avila's center of power. It's also the toughest nut to crack anywhere in the world. I had an army of attackers that outnumbered the defenders four-to-one and they nearly broke us. It's ideal defensive ground in the way that the road curves in two different spots. They can make you pay with even a small amount of troops. After all, that was why it was designed that way--the ultimate protection for a sitting emperor."

Ferberg's arm swept to the east suburbs closest to the army. "Out here you might not see many defenders but I can guarantee you that Avila has put every body that he could get his hands on within every house of consequence. Just because they aren't immediately visible doesn't mean they can't make you bleed."

Ferberg then pointed out to the ocean. "You're also missing your best negotiating piece--your navy. If you brought the full guns of your navy to bear against the city, you would pulverize it. There'd be nothing left of Dagobern when you were done. I think you'll find that this siege will be longer than you expect."

Ferberg brought up good points, and Jack couldn't deny that much of what he said made sense. But he still questioned whether his advice could be trusted. After all, Ferberg didn't exactly trust Jack yet.

Why should Jack extend him the same courtesy?

"From what we see, I don't think there's much resistance to be had," said Jack, countering the general's last point. "And even if Avila armed anyone that could hold a rifle, that doesn't make them soldiers. Such citizens are liable to melt back into the city at the first sign of trouble."

Ferberg shrugged. "You might have a point about that but it doesn't take away what I'm suggesting either. I think you should call off your attack tomorrow. I think you should call in your navy and settle into a longer siege. You might save the lives of many men tomorrow in doing so."

There was sense in the general's words but a tiny part of Jack's mind couldn't help but suggest that Ferberg might be stalling. That he might still be working for Avila despite being captured. There was always the chance that he knew of a relief force, and if he kept Jack from assaulting the capital prematurely, it could stave off ultimate defeat.

In the end, it came down to a simple point--Jack didn't trust him yet either.

"I guess we'll see who is right tomorrow," said Jack with a wary smile.

Ferberg nodded his head. "I suppose we will."

*****

The sight of the enemy so close to his center of power filled Emperor Avila with equal parts adrenaline and rage.

It was only just this morning that he could see the visible signs of their arrival from the highest floor of the imperial palace, finding the evidence of their main headquarters just outside the city's eastern gate. From there, the Galicians and their dogs surrounded the city of Dagobern, and in every direction that Avila looked, he could see evidence of trenches being constructed.

How did it come to this? How could everything have turned so quickly?

It was only a month ago that Avila was confident of supreme victory as his hundred-thousand-strong army marched out of Dagobern to confront the invaders. They were men that were well-supplied and ably led by none other than General Ambros Ferberg himself--the best military mind in the West.

And now Ferberg was a prisoner of the enemy, or so Avila was told. He had no indication whether that was the truth of the matter or whether Ferberg was actually dead but in either scenario, his leading general was of no further use to him. As was the army that had been shattered far to the south outside the city of Castus.

The loss of such a general and his army was a blow that Swabia needed time to recover from. Once Avila received the news about the army, he was temporarily paralyzed with how to respond. For two full days after the battle, he made no major orders nor did anything else to prepare for going on the defensive. There was just no way that Ferberg could have lost.

And yet reality still managed to seep in regardless. By the third day, it was time to face facts--it was up to Avila now to prevent his city from falling and this war from being a total defeat.

That was why he now took total military control. Even though Ferberg was the nominal head of the Swabian Army, Avila inherited that power now, becoming the generalissimo of the Swabian Army.

In reality, power couldn't have been concentrated in less capable hands. Avila wasn't a general. For nearly his entire life, he'd relied on Ferberg to lead the army while Avila worked the politics. It was a compromise that worked well for them but now he was in need of a different solution.

It also didn't help that there wasn't a capable successor to General Ferberg. The man was nearly unreplaceable and none of the remaining officer corps inspired Avila enough to believe they could handle the big job. It was another reason why he was content to put total power on his own shoulders.

Now that he had the ultimate responsibility, it was time to organize a defense. Avila vowed the Dagobern would never fall while he was still alive, and to that end, he had to create an army that was capable of defending it.

The only problem was that all of the capable men of military age had already gone south with Ferberg. In doing so, there were just about none of them left in Dagobern or on the main island of Swabia. In this regard, Avila was nothing but a pragmatist.

It wasn't just men that were capable of holding rifles. Anyone could shoot a rifle in the general direction of the enemy. Even kids as young as ten or pregnant mothers could hold territory if given the tools to make it happen.

And so ensued Avila's first general order to the populace--anyone capable of bearing a rifle had to receive one from the armory within three days of his order. From there, they would organize themselves by neighborhoods and prepare to hold the city in the face of the attacker.

Avila knew that it was likely his citizen soldiers wouldn't be able to stand up against the well-trained soldiers on the other side but he wasn't looking at a one-on-one type of match. He hoped to overwhelm the enemy with the entire populace of Dagobern and make Dagobern not worth the casualties that it took to take it.

It was quite a long shot to hope for but it was the best that he had left.

He was determined not to go down in history as one of the emperors who'd lost Dagobern and the war. Swabian history was already full of such examples and needed no further entrants to that disdainful list.

No matter the cost in blood or tears, Avila would hold Dagobern if it was the last thing he did.

To that end, Avila made daily inspections of his new fighting soldiers to make sure they were training for the battle ahead. While they were nothing like the inspections he used to hold with professional regiments, they were still necessary for ensuring his citizen-soldiers were prepared physically and mentally for the struggle ahead.

One such battalion was in front of him now. It was led by a former major who'd been discharged after he lost a leg in Picardy, rendering him unfit for normal service. Since these were far from normal times, he was reenlisted to defend the city, and Avila's only order was that he show his recruits how to shoot and then put himself in a good position to defend that wouldn't require him to be mobile.

The new Swabian Army was rife with such special provisions--all designed to take advantage of the manpower that was left.

The legless major's new battalion was full of the residents of Rugendorf, a neighborhood not far from the industrial western heart of Dagobern. It was a poor neighborhood, one that never had much and had suffered greatly in the war with the loss of their men. In this particular battalion, Avila spotted boys that still hadn't gone through puberty, old men that walked with limps, women who'd given birth within the last month and some that were due in another month. It was a hodgepodge of the remaining Swabian civilians but they all had one thing in common.

They all carried a Swabian rifle and were ready to give their lives for their country.

"My soldiers," called out Avila as he neared the battalion. "The hour of our final victory draws closer. Are you ready to give your lives for your emperor?"

The responses were decidedly mixed. Most of the men knew to give out a vocal chant in affirmation but it was somewhat muted by the reactions of those that didn't chant. A great many of them bowed to him instead, which was a normal reaction in decent times.

The youngest boys simply stared back, no doubt awed at the presence of their emperor in front of them as well as the ever present thought of death coming to find them way too soon.

Even still, it was hard not to argue that they wouldn't be a formidable match for the army on the outside of the city. Avila had grand illusions of his citizen-soldiers not only pushing back the enemy but pushing them out of Swabia in general.

Unfortunately, their major had no such illusions.

"I'm doing the best with them that I can, Your Imperial Majesty," said the legless major. "But we still have significant issues. None of them have seen war before. They hear the sound of bullets and their first instinct is to drop their rifles and cower. I'm nowhere close to attaining any unit cohesion with them and desertion is a problem. I'm just not sure if we can--"

Avila held up his hand, interrupting the major. "Have a little faith in your cohort, Major. It's these men and women that will throw back our enemy and win the war for us."

Avila pretended not to see the shocked expression on the major's face. Clearly, the man shared no such delusions about the effectiveness of his battalion.

"Keep drilling them and when the time comes, go to your assigned section of the city," continued Avila. "Show these people what it means to be in the Swabian Army. Inspire them with your leadership and courage. And let them know what the spoils will be when we defeat these Galicians dogs!"

The major nodded out of respect but it seemed he thought they would not achieve anything close to victory against the Galicians. If anything, he seemed to be on the verge of defeatism.

In an ordinary situation, Avila would have the major thrown out of the army but not in this one. As long as he could hold a rifle, he would be useful. Avila just hoped the major would suffer a quick death when the attack actually came lest he infect the rest of his battalion with his defeatism.

For the rest of the day, Avila continued to inspect the new units, especially as they moved to their defensive positions. With the Galician movements outside the city, it was apparent the battle would begin tomorrow. They would be able to use the evening and the night to set up their positions and prepare for the storm in the morning.

As the day ended and Avila made his way back to the palace, he was hopeful for victory in the morning. He was perhaps the only person in Dagobern that was hopeful for victory but Avila knew they had the zeal to see themselves triumph against their enemies. They also had an adequate granary and as long as the city survived an assault, they could hold out in a siege for quite some time.

Before he turned in for the night, Avila stopped in his study to look at the battle armor of the ancient Swabian emperors. He contemplated putting it on briefly, even if just to enhance his gravitas before the battle in the morning. It wouldn't be very useful in a modern battle, as the armor was more meant for the time when swords and pikes reigned on the battlefield, but it was still a reminder of all those that had come before him.

So many emperors had fought life-or-death battles in history, and tomorrow, he would become one of them.

And he was determined not to fail.

*****

"Michael, my boy, what are you doing in the kitchens this early?"

Michael Bainbridge jumped at the sudden sound of a familiar voice. He nearly dropped the tray of food in his hand and turned quickly to confirm the identity of the speaker. Thankfully, it was only Artemis, his friend that worked the kitchens at the Javan imperial palace.

"Artemis, you nearly scared the wits out of me," said Michael as he set his tray of food on the counter. "How do you move so quietly through the kitchen?"

Artemis gave him a pointed look. "I wasn't moving that quietly. You just seemed a little preoccupied. Were you singing?"

Michael managed to look embarrassed. His cheeks flushed a deep red. "Singing? Me? No, no, I wasn't."

The look still didn't disappear from Artemis' face. "Right. And I'm not just a cook. I'm the next in line for the throne."

Michael cracked a smile. "My condolences to you then."

"So what exactly are you doing here so early, Michael? And with so much food? Surely a growing young man like yourself doesn't eatthat much food!"

Michael shook his head. "No, it's not... it's not all for me. I have some to share with a friend."

Artemis beamed with a grin. "A friend, eh? My friend, have you been holding out on me? Would this happen to be a female friend?"

"Perhaps," conceded Michael. He didn't say anything further but Artemis was wise enough to glean all he needed to know already.

"Well, now this makes a lot more sense," said Artemis after letting out a low whistle. "Hoping to impress your lady friend with a bounty of food from the kitchens. Not a bad move if I do say so myself."

Michael grabbed another piece of cheese and stuck it on his tray. "What can I say, Artemis? I learned from the best."

The cook snorted. "That you did, my boy. Now tell me--this girl that you're talking to? Would it just happen to be that little lady that stumbled into my kitchens a few weeks ago? You know the one I'm talking about, right? That beautiful servant girl?"

Michael nodded easily. "Her name is Jade. And yes, she's the one. She might bethe one, if you know what I'm saying."

Artemis started to chuckle to himself. "Moving a little quickly, aren't you? That girl barely knew your name a few weeks ago. And now she's the one? Isn't that being a little presumptuous?"

Michael set the tray down and faced Artemis. He shrugged. "I don't feel like it's moving that quickly. In fact, it even seems like time slows down when I'm with her. I've never felt this way about another girl before, Artemis. Not even close. Not that many of them knew about my real nature but do you remember that one servant girl that was here for one summer before her parents were fired?"

Artemis shrugged. "So many girls come and go through here that it's hard to keep track."

"Well, there was this one girl about three years ago. I thought she was beautiful too, and we got along so well. But when I compare her to the feelings that I have with Jade now, it's not even a competition. What I feel for Jade is so much stronger and powerful."

Artemis put his hand on Michael's shoulder and gave him a fatherly look. "Michael, have you been intimate with this girl? Have you gone all the way with her?"

Michael didn't answer that question verbally. Instead, the red shine on his cheeks was enough of an answer in itself.

Artemis gave a knowing nod. "I thought so. Are you sure this isn't just first love? You've been physically intimate with your first real girlfriend and you believe that nothing could tear you apart, right? Don't you think you're putting this relationship on a pedestal?"

Michael couldn't shake his head fast enough. "Not at all! She gets me, Artemis. We have long talks about everything and nothing at the same time. We're so alike that it's scary sometimes. She tells me about her childhood and her feelings and I often find myself having experienced the same emotions. I find that we're more similar than I could've ever expected, and it only fuels the passion that we share afterward."

"Hmm, emotions such as? What kind of emotions, Michael?"

Michael thought for a moment before giving his example. "I mean emotions like loneliness. She's an only child so she knows all about it. She recognizes the lonely life that I've lived as being part of the palace. We've bonded over that."

Artemis raised an eyebrow. "That's hardly a good example, my boy. Everyone feels lonely from time to time. What's so groundbreaking about the fact that you've both experienced it at different points in your life?"

Michael waved his hand. "You make it sound so common but it's not. It's a real connection between the two of us. It's hard for me to explain."

And indeed it was. How could Michael adequately explain what was in his heart? His feelings for Jade burned so brightly that sometimes he felt blind in her presence. There were simply no words to describe the intensity or the brilliance of what they'd found in each other.

And even so, no matter what he said, it still didn't convince Artemis that this was anything more than puppy love.

"I'm going to take your word for it, my boy," said Artemis as he began to get the kitchen running for service that day. "Just don't get too far into this, okay? I don't want you to lose what makes you... you. Don't let your love for her obscure your identity, all right?"

Michael beamed a silly grin. "I don't know how that's even possible, Artemis. Sheenhances me. She makes me a better version of myself. So much so that we've begun to think about the future and what it holds for us." Michael then leaned closer and lowered his voice. "And that future doesn't involve staying at the palace."

Artemis stopped what he was doing and stared at Michael. "You're allowing yourself to dream of a life outside these walls? How could you ever accomplish that, Michael? You and I both know the status of your condition here. It's not like you can just walk out the front door and never look back."

That was certainly true enough. Being a Bainbridge meant there were plenty of restrictions to Michael's life. As the only living heir of the entire family, he was required to live in close proximity to Bancroft as one of the conditions for keeping him alive. Despite Michael having no imperial ambitions, Bancroft still suspected that Michael could be a threat to him at some point, and he wanted to keep an eye on him.

"I know, I know, it's crazy!" said Michael while shaking his head. "But we have a plan. Jade has a plan. And I trust her, Artemis. Just think of what might happen if we really do get out of here? I can take her far away from here. We could go someplace like Thessaly on the other side of the continent where no one would know our names. And we could start our own life. And I could marry her and have a family with her!"

"Hold up, my boy," said Artemis while putting his hands up. "You're getting incredibly far ahead of yourself. Are you feeling okay, Michael? The Michael that I know isn't one to dream this much about possibilities that might not be realistic."

"I've never felt better, Artemis. Truly, I'm not going crazy. I'm just allowing myself to dream of a future that wasn't spent here as Bancroft's captive. A future with Jade."

"It seems to me that you two still have a lot to figure out," said Artemis. "But you should exercise caution, my boy. At the end of the day, you're still a Bainbridge. And you have to realize that your identity alone could put you in danger outside these four walls."