Chapter Text
Even after the demon attack – especially after the demon attack – the business of the crusade had to continue, and four days after Elan's wedding Juniper gathered together the members of her military council.
"Commander," Captain Odan nodded. "I'm glad you called this meeting so swiftly… is everyone aware of the reason?"
"Juniper said it was urgent, but not more than that," Seelah replied. "Any reason for that, girl?"
"I wanted to make sure everyone was coming at this fresh," Juniper explained. "I have my own opinion on the situation, but if you could outline it yourself, Captain?"
Captain Odan nodded. "Of course, Commander."
He laid out a sketch on the table. "This is the citadel of Storm's Peak, erected recently by the balor Khorramzadeh – the high commander of our foe's armies. He is not present himself, but the citadel is within striking distance of Drezen and is a clear and direct threat to us."
"Why was this allowed to take place?" Regill asked.
"The citadel was erected by magic, Paralictor," Odan replied. "Our mages tell us that it's a costly ritual and one that couldn't easily be repeated, but the result is that the fortress was constructed from nothing in mere days."
"Well, then we need to destroy it, right?" Seelah asked. "If they can't replace it, and we demolish it, then we've made this trick of theirs nearly useless."
"Possible, certainly," Regill mused. "Though I can't imagine that this wasn't previously considered by Khorramzadeh. This is a trap."
He pointed. "There is an area of forest not far away. I suspect that Khorramzadeh has concealed an army within, to attack our siege forces."
"Quite possible," Juniper agreed. "But that's not necessarily a bad thing. To threaten Drezen this citadel has been built well into the belt where we can move our own armies, so we can respond in force… and a pitched battle where both sides are expecting it may well play into our own strengths."
"Lots of words, but I like the sound of them," Ulbrig said. "This oglin wants to fight on Sarkorian soil, we'll give him a fight."
Greybor frowned. "Hmm."
"You sound worried?" Juniper asked.
"Mostly wondering whether he's predicted that, as well," Greybor explained. "I'm no commander, but if you leave open a vulnerability you know it's possible your opponent will take it. But we can't just never do anything… I want to make sure you know."
"Quite," Juniper agreed. "I'd rather you bring this sort of thing up, than not."
She looked up. "But I believe there was something else, Captain?"
"Yes, Commander," Odan agreed. "If this is going to be a pitched battle, where both sides know it's coming ahead of time, we should make sure your field commanders know the plan of action. The tactical approach you're going to use."
"Or, to put it another way, the toolkit," Juniper said. "There's no one way to fight which will always beat the others, or everyone would do that one… you're talking about doctrine, I believe."
"Doctrine, yes," Odan confirmed. "What our army should default to, in the cases where you're not able to give instructions or the chain of command breaks down. Up until now we've been using standard Mendevian doctrine, but between the heavy sharpshooter focus and the attack dogs that's become an increasingly poor fit."
He glanced down at the fortress map, then back up at Juniper. "I advise the use of a cautious, attritional style of fighting. It fits better with your sharpshooters, and it allows you to control the pace of the battle – destroy the enemy under controlled conditions, then march over the ruins."
"That might work against a mortal enemy," Seelah said, shaking her head. "But against an innumerable horde of demons? You'd never be able to stop sitting on your hands, and you'd never be able to win. We need to strive for victory, live for it – that'll put an end to them – and the way I see of doing that is a cavalry charge."
She chuckled. "Maybe it's because of who I am, but I tend to find that cavalry charges have the morale impact and physical impact to flatten any enemy!"
"An army of knights relying on a cavalry charge?" Greybor asked. "That sounds very unexpected and novel, I'm sure the demons won't see it coming."
"Even if they see it coming, who cares?" Seelah asked. "I know a little about war myself, Greybor – the ways a cavalry charge gets beaten are, one, obstacles that stop the cavalry – but we can just not charge if that's the situation. Two, disciplined formations, and three, the cavalry not charging. And do you think the demons are anything close to disciplined?"
"It might work once," Greybor allowed. "But then they'll see it coming, and put up big spiked hedges to block the cavalry charges. It'll leave us without any options. You ask me, you want to promote initiative so the officers can make their own decisions."
He lit his pipe. "This… acquaintance of mine. A colleague. He used to serve as a corporal in the Molthuni army. They went out on a raid at some point against Nirmathi warriors. Ran into an ambush and got shot to hell, but rallied, and chased them deep into the woods."
The dwarf looked over as Aivu sneezed from the smoke, then turned his gaze to Juniper. "Is it obvious yet they were being baited? Because it was obvious to my acquaintance, too. So he told his commanding officer – this isn't right, things are looking ugly. We've got to turn back. But the officer dug his heels in. Orders were clear. Give chase to a lightly armed opponent and dispatch them, while a superior foe was to be contained by forcing a fight and the men were to send for reinforcements."
Greybor shook his head. "He recited the order word for word, because he won't forget it until the day he dies. That's the doctrine set by the generals in the capital, to crush the weak enemy bands one by one. Looks solid on paper… in the woods, in the middle of the night, not so much."
Regill silently raised an eyebrow.
"They got ambushed, of course," Greybor said. "Faced an enemy battalion, and 'contained it by forcing a fight'… and only my acquaintance and his squad got out alive. He put two and two together and decided no reinforcements were going to make it in time, so he tried to break through. Ran for six days, the enemy hot on their heels, but… they survived."
The dwarf smiled, sardonically. "My acquaintance learned a lot from that battle, including the necessity of deserting immediately. So he became an assassin, a much safer craft…"
"I think I can see the point," Juniper said. "You're arguing that no one set of instructions and rules can encompass everything that you might run into, and the chaos of battle means that either I give officers freedom to make their own decisions or they end up losing winnable engagements."
"Or fighting losing ones," Greybor agreed. "It's not like your army is commanded by idiots."
"Initiative is a dangerous weapon," Regill said. "It can be useful, but in a large scale battle any display of free-thinking – any leeway in interpreting orders – can disorganize an army, throwing the plans of the higher commander into chaos. We should not destroy our own discipline, not when it is so hard-won."
"I assume you have a suggestion, then?" Juniper asked.
"Naturally," Regill replied. "Rather than the fully defensive approach advocated by Captain Odan, I suggest copying the Taldan Phalanx. They advance to take a position which threatens the enemy's position and await the inevitable attack. Upon that attack taking place, the footmen dampen the enemy assault with a shield wall, then launch their counteroffensive at the officer's command. This exploits the turning point of the battle, and the enemy offensive turns into a rout."
"I'm not sure we can replicate that training in a time scale of less than years," Odan frowned. "The Taldan switch from the defensive to the offensive is spectacular and very effective, but it's predicated on long training by the entire force of the army and it's not something we can replicate."
"And it relies on doing the same thing over and over!" Ulbrig said. "This is Sarkoris! Did none of you bother to ask how Sarkorians fought? Traps, ambushes, rear attacks, targeted fires… we can use the land itself to hide from enemies and lure them astray. That's fighting in a Sarkorian way."
"And it worked very well the first time," Greybor pointed out.
Ulbrig folded his arms, then one of the guards came in.
"Commander?" he said. "Another of your companions is here, with an urgent-"
Nenio breezed past him.
"Girl!" she said. "I have been successful!"
She put a small bag on the table, then pulled a five foot metal tube out of it. It was closed at one end, and fitted with a wooden stock like a crossbow, and Nenio pointed.
"Did you know that the kinds of weapons used in Alkenstar are actually very primitive?" she asked. "The technology from which Numerian technology is derived had a far more advanced form of the same weapon, but abandoned it as also being too primitive; however, the approach taken by Numerian technology to the matter did not involve significant amounts of enchantment. I have combined the more advanced form of 'fire arm' with magic in order to produce this weapon!"
The military council looked at it.
"I'm familiar with Alkenstar weapons, a little," Juniper said. "I was under the impression that they were difficult to manufacture, difficult to supply – especially outside Alkenstar which has an existing infrastructure for it – and weren't very effective against demons."
"Correct!" Nenio said. "However, I have determined a way to manufacture these weapons with magical assistance! Building up the weapons will take time but it is doable. I have charts!"
She put them down on the table.
"The same is true of producing the supplies of explosive powder," she went on. "In addition, I have solved the problems of being unable to harm demons effectively and of accuracy at the same time. This weapon has a magically reinforced barrel, and it uses six times as much powder as an Alkenstar weapon of the same size. It also uses a snugly fitting cold iron ball behind a separate plunger which seals the middle and pushes the cold iron along."
"Six times as much…" Juniper said, taking a nervous step away from the weapon.
She was about… seventy percent sure Nenio hadn't actually brought it loaded, but Alkenstar weapons were already a bit notorious for going wrong. Where wrong meant exploding.
"I have used some skymetal in the design!" Nenio said. "It did not explode even when I used twice the proposed amount of powder, for a factor of safety. I also determined the primary causes of inaccuracy in an Alkenstar weapon and aimed to reduce both of them, while still making use of cold iron instead of lead. The main cause is an effect produced by a spinning ball which curves in a specific way depending on the direction of spin, but this effect is diminished if the ball is going much faster than the speed of sound. This meant I could avoid using rifling, which would be damaged by a cold iron ball and heat the ball up so it was no longer cold iron, while still having high accuracy and a more easily manufactured weapon!"
"I'm actually kind of scared now," Seelah admitted. "Do you think this thing's going to work, Juniper?"
"I've got no idea," Juniper admitted. "Have you… tested it, Nenio?"
"Yes!" Nenio confirmed. "That is how I broke my wrist yesterday!"
"...that's what you were doing?" Juniper asked. "I heard some explosions and Sosiel mentioned he'd healed you, but I thought you were doing something with magic if they were connected at all."
"This is science, girl," Nenio explained. "I found that the weapon will strike a human sized target every time at over 300 yards if perfectly aimed, and at that range it will penetrate around half an inch of iron!"
"Iomedae!" Odan said, softly. "What's it like closer?"
Nenio's ears flicked.
"More effective," she replied. "I have a monograph if you would like?"
"Well," Juniper said. "You said you can make more of them?"
"I can show assistants how to make more of them!" Nenio replied. "It will take some time, however. Months at least, but not decades, as requested."
"Once those become available, we're definitely changing our doctrine," Juniper decided. "Nenio, that's as high a priority as I can make it – and see if you can sort out people who can actually use them. Two-person teams with magical strength enhancements if need be. Until then, however…"
She pointed at Regill. "Regill. Your suggestion has merit, but it's as much for the use of operational offensive and tactical defence as the specifics of it. A strong position that the enemy has to attack means we can fight on terms we're expecting, and the sharpshooters can gall the enemy into attacking if they won't otherwise… but that leaves the cavalry without anything to do, and most of the things a demon army could do to defend against a disciplined cavalry charge won't work if they're out in the open attacking us."
Then she smiled. "But that's for pitched battles. For small unit tactics… Greybor, Ulbrig, when a pitched battle situation isn't involved what I want is for us to be able to use those kinds of tricks Ulbrig was talking about. If we can wear down an enemy before a battle, that's us having half won already."
Constituting the field armies and drilling them in their new tactical roles, for pitched battle – defensive hedges and cavalry countercharge – and in the thousand-and-one tricks the scouts and detachments would need to know was an involved process, and one that meant Juniper spent long hours in her rooms with her focus switching between training reports, logistical information, the construction of fortified positions with imported materials and all the other details and duties she had.
Part of her itched to go out there and lead, to command an army in the field and try and win through tactics and manoeuvre to speed things up, but she quashed that urge because it wouldn't serve her strategic goals.
Lower level actions were guided by higher level ones. You could string together as many victories as you wanted but fail to turn it into an overall positive outcome if they weren't the right battles to fight, or fought under the right terms, and while the confidence of Mendev was improving steadily it wasn't necessarily clear if they could survive a defeat.
Sooner or later, yes, she'd have to take risks. But making sure that the numbers had moved in her direction as far as possible was paramount.
Even if it did lead to long, tiresome delays.
One afternoon, out getting herself an early dinner, Juniper caught sight of Ember – and stopped.
Something was nagging at her, and she turned to head over and sit down next to the young elf maiden.
"Ember?" she began. "Do you mind if I ask you something?"
"Not at all!" Ember replied, smiling. "Go ahead!"
"I was wondering… I think I can guess, but you don't have anywhere to stay, do you?" Juniper asked. "You just stay here, out in the street."
"Of course!" Ember answered. "Why wouldn't I?"
"I was going to ask why you would do it," Juniper replied. "Ember… you don't actually need to stay out on the street. You know that, right?"
"I don't want to trouble anyone else," Ember replied. "It's because, if I do sleep somewhere warm and inside, then that's taking space from someone else who needs it more. I'm all right in the street, so you don't need to worry about that."
"But-" Juniper began. "But… we've got the space. We've got the food supplies, as well – I've seen how you don't eat much. And your clothes are rags. It doesn't make sense to me, that you'd put yourself through so much suffering just because someone might need what you'd be using, even though nobody does right now."
"But they might, later," Ember insisted, quietly but firmly. "That's what matters to me. I don't want anyone else to be miserable because of anything I do."
"What about our enemies?" Juniper asked. "You know we're fighting a war."
"I do know that," Ember said.
She looked to the south and west, her gaze focused far beyond the walls of Drezen. "I know. And that war's caused so much suffering… to the people who used to live here, as well. But wars just… keep going. Even when someone wins a war, that just leads to the next one later on. And wars don't just happen, they're because of pain and suffering, and war causes pain and suffering."
The odd elf held out her arm, and Soot landed on it.
"If we knew why these wars started, we could try and make sure they stopped," she explained. "I know you understand about how important it is to think about that, but a lot of people don't. And even you don't always get it… but you understand better than a lot of people do."
"And what do you think I don't understand, then?" Juniper asked.
Ember frowned.
"It's more like what you don't always understand," she amended. "Which is… about how you end war by convincing everyone to stop fighting. Not one side, because then you just end up with the other side killing them. Everyone. And I know it's hard to do that, but you don't try."
"The unfortunate thing is that they're demons, and they're attacking Golarion," Juniper pointed out. "They're notoriously hard to convince."
"And is that a reason to not even try?" Ember asked. "You like Arueshalae, don't you?"
"Arueshalae is… unusual," Juniper replied. "Not unique, perhaps, but not common either. And it's far more common that a demon would pretend to have changed sides, in order to attack in horrible ways – or do some other kind of trick, like happened at Elan's wedding. That's something which I can't simply ignore."
Ember nodded.
"I know," she said. "It's hard. But how can you ever do something to stop that hard thing being impossible, if you just think it's hard and you never try? And how do you know if it's hard, or if people just don't try?"
"That's a very solid philosophical question, but the answer is mostly based on experience," Juniper answered. "On what demons have done, on the whole. And maybe it's true that individual demons could be persuaded, but actually persuading them would take a lot of time and effort, and sometimes you just don't have that time to spend."
She drummed a paw on the floor. "I know you believe that everyone has the potential to be good – that everyone is good, if you can only reach them. But for some people that's easier to do than others, and some people – and some demons – delight in taking advantage of people who think they can change the minds of those demons."
"Like I say!" Ember smiled. "Because it's hard doesn't mean I'm not going to try and do it anyway. And if demons realize they don't have to kill us to be happy, then they wouldn't kill us any more."
Juniper opened her muzzle, to say that it wasn't that simple, then… stopped.
Because it was hard to tell if it was.
Ember had collapsed down an incredibly difficult thing to achieve into a single blithe statement, certainly, but when she thought about it… it was true, that demons wouldn't kill people if they could achieve all their goals without killing people.
It was also, however, extremely difficult to actually do that. For so many demons, their fundamental reasons for doing what they did were a combination of fear of their superiors, and a willingness to cause others to suffer for their own gain – or entertainment. And those superiors had motives which were sometimes inscrutable and often actively malevolent.
Juniper had only seen Deskari once, but she still remembered his booming voice as he demanded that Iomedae listen to him, watch him – behold the death and slaughter he was spreading across Kenabres, and his murder of Terendelev. Baphomet was a little harder to understand… but Juniper knew a good deal about demonology, and Baphomet's actions at least indicated someone who wanted power and would stop at nothing to attain it.
And then there was Areelu Vorlesh. Why would someone act the way she had?
For power? She'd certainly gained personal power, but to do what?
"I think changing demon culture is a huge task," she said, instead. "To make it so that demons know they have other options, without the demons who haven't yet changed their approach deciding to try and forcibly stop them or hunt them down… it's difficult and dangerous. Not least because they don't know anything else, and in most cases they don't have the mental framework to realize what they're missing, so if you talk to them about it you just end up mocked."
"That's okay," Ember shrugged. "I'm used to that. And if I can help even one of them, that's better than none."
She looked sad. "I know that some of them are going to die, but it'd be so much better if none of them did… if nobody did at all. And if what you're doing is something everyone calls impossible, I may as well do something everyone calls impossible as well."
"What do you think of this approach?" Juniper asked, shifting counters across the map. "There's a high position here which would serve for a trebuchet, and while we'd have to import the timbers for one it would let us bombard the walls."
"Hmm," Regill frowned. "It's a possibility, but would inevitably result in extra delay."
"I know," Juniper agreed. "Escalade is always quicker, and at times that can be to our advantage – if we want to save time, then spending men in the short term can make for a more effective outcome. But I'd argue that bombarding the walls would actually serve our strategy – it creates a position where the demons would be inclined to attack our siege forces, those siege forces could be compact around the high position, and we'd then be able to implement the tactics we discussed previously."
"A fair point," Regill allowed. "Though I suspect that Khorramzadeh will want very much the same fight."
"If he's built a fortified position with the intent to bleed us in battle, then any battle around the walls is going to play into his hands – and we can hardly ignore it entirely," Juniper said. "This is no Drezen, it's a fortified position built for a specific purpose. Khorramzadeh may or may not have meant that purpose to be resisting an escalade, but I think that more likely than the idea he'd have built the place to resist artillery – at least, in such a way that bombarding it would help him more than us."
She paused, then considered. "Though… there is this, I suppose. Khorramzadeh can't have a field army strong enough to just flatten ours, or he'd have marched it over one of ours and driven us back towards Drezen. Instead he's relying on a fortified position, and while it does reduce our ability to operate… it doesn't eliminate it, even if we cover the fortress rather than reducing it."
"Elaborate, Commander?" Regill inquired.
Juniper shifted away the local map, and laid out one of the Worldwound ones instead, dropping weights on the corners to hold it flat.
"At the moment our field forces are – thus," she said, placing down markers with the ease of long practice. "And our fortified positions are here, here, here… our field forces are operating in advance of the fortifications. Key enemy field armies are here… and here… and their fortifications that we're aware of go in these positions."
With the last marker on the map, Juniper indicated a swathe of the map with a wave of her paw. "This is the area between the fortifications of the two sides. It's the area where armies can manoeuvre without having to fight through a fortified position… but part of that is that it's also the area where we can give it up without losing anything major. I could pull everyone back behind the forts, cover Storm's Keep with some of that field force, and then the rest could do something else regardless."
"Risky," Regill said. "Or, to be more exact, an effort at winning by being disruptive instead of your usual style."
"There's a time for disruption and a time for delay," Juniper answered. "There's a time to reduce randomness, and a time to increase it… and, of course, much of Khorramzadeh's forces have been devoted to Storm's Keep. He did not get that army from nowhere. Which means that there are certain possibilities opened up, where a move that was once slightly too risky is now… amenable."
Regill nodded.
"And what if the enemy reacts in turn?" he asked. "They could hold Storm's Keep more easily than they could keep a striking force in it for a pitched battle, so that army could move to react."
"That's one other benefit of it, actually…" Juniper said, with a smirk. "Though I'm not sure Khorramzadeh has thought of it. Cultists and votaries are necessary for many demon field forces to operate, and they can't teleport even if the demons can… and they're vulnerable to all kinds of traps, of the sort Ulbrig's been passing on. Which will delay them, and – more importantly – mean we have good information about where that enemy is. Fighting of that sort requires greater exertions on the part of the troops, and a combination of initiative and discipline… normally. But here there's no friendly population worth speaking about, so not much chance of our soldiers becoming bandits – nothing to steal."
"There is that," Regill conceded. "Though I would argue discipline is still vital."
Someone knocked at the door, and Juniper looked up.
"Come in?" she asked.
Two officers entered, along with a private in shackles and covered in bruises.
"Officer Lellan, Commander," one of the officers said, with a salute. "Permission to report!"
"Granted," Juniper replied. "What has happened to this man?"
"This is Private Gorvo, ma'am," Lellan said. "Last night, Gorvo attacked Officer Damar here – his regimental commander. Serious injuries took place and Officer Damar required urgent healing. We would have dealt with Private Gorvo right away, but he demanded your judgement."
Lellan straightened. "As an uninterested third party, I could not refuse him."
"Uninterested," Gorvo snorted. "Hah!"
"Why is Private Gorvo so badly injured?" Juniper asked.
"I was more badly injured before I was healed," Damar replied. "You're not suggesting we should have healed my attacker, are you?"
"It would certainly have avoided leaving a badly injured man in the cells for the night," Juniper said. "Since you shackled him to avoid his escape anyway… Private Gorvo, why do you demand my judgement?"
"Because you're just," Gorvo answered. "You make scoundrels show their true colours. And you're the Commander… I signed up to serve under you, not these vultures."
"The prisoner will show respect," Damar insisted.
Gorvo laughed. "I am. Just not to you."
"No extraneous comments, please," Juniper requested. "From either of you. The facts, Private."
"All right, the facts," Gorvo agreed. "When Damar said I got his armour dirty during training and I'd be punished for it… I realized I couldn't stand it any more. I couldn't stand it any more, there was no way out… I wanted an appeal, but nobody would hear a complaint from a lowly grunt. You wouldn't have the time. So I took out my knife… I thought, even if I'd killed him, at least my complaint would be heard."
Juniper stared back, unimpressed.
"You attempted to kill someone so that your complaint would be heard?" she repeated, for confirmation. "What gave you the impression that your complaint wouldn't be heard?"
"Because of Damar and his cronies," Gorvo replied. "They'd never pass on what I wanted to say, but once I asked for your justice in the hearing of the guards, they couldn't just sweep it under the rug."
"An attempt to explain away actions taken for another purpose, perhaps?" Regill suggested. "An enlisted man not enjoying his time in the army is no excuse for attempted murder."
"No, but then again, the penalty for murder of a soldier of Drezen is execution," Juniper said. "Regardless of relative rank."
Gorvo blinked. "You – it is?" he asked. "But Damar and-"
"The prisoner will avoid prejudicial remarks!" Lellan interrupted.
"Officer Lellan," Juniper said, icily. "You will avoid prejudicial remarks. Continue, Private."
"Damar and Lellan both said that it was killing of a senior officer that was punishable by death," Gorvo replied. "Or striking a senior officer. Or desertion."
"Striking a senior officer is a serious offence, but it is not punished by the death penalty," Falconeyes replied. "The killing of another soldier of the army is a death penalty offence, though mitigating circ*mstances can exist – for example, it is correct that being caught in the act of desertion leads to execution, and this judgement may in some cases take place summarily."
She let her gaze rest on Lellan and then Damar, before returning to Gorvo. "So. What led to the attack?"
"Gorvo and Damar fought over a woman, Commander," Lellan said, quickly. "As is well known in the unit. I am present as an impartial witness to that-"
"Hah!" Gorvo laughed.
"-but everyone knows it," Lellan continued. "You can ask anyone."
"It's a lie, is what it is," Gorvo said.
"Accusing a senior officer of lying is-" Damar began.
"Officer Damar!" Falconeyes snapped. "Have you never before encountered the concept of an investigation? In case you have not and you are somehow encountering it for the first time, not every witness in a contested matter is going to agree. There is no way to conduct an investigation when officers are permitted to speak their minds and their subordinates must agree with them – that does not lead to justice."
She returned her gaze to Gorvo. "So, why did you attempt to kill him?"
"Someone had to," Gorvo answered, clenching his fists. "Someone has to kill him, Commander. It has to stop."
"We'll return to the matter of the woman in a moment," Falconeyes said. "Now. Why do you say it has to stop?"
"It's nonsense, Commander," Lellan declared. "Damar's a loyal warrior, a skilled fighter, and a strict officer. So what if he's not universally loved by his men? The regiment's weaklings and idlers hate his methods."
Damar stood to attention. "I know that some men in my regiment don't like me, but I didn't think they'd go so far as to murder me."
He smiled, disarmingly. "I know I'm a lover of women, but she made her… choice…"
Gradually, Damar's voice trailed off as he realized Falconeyes was staring at him.
"Damar bullies us," Gorvo said. "In word and action. Strict is one word for him… he ordered us to bury a recruit neck-deep in mud, and forbade us from shooting away the crows."
Lellan began to speak, then stopped as Falconeyes transferred her gaze to him.
"And then there's what it's like when a rag is put over your face, and then they pour water-"
"Silence!" Damar insisted. "This is all lies, Commander!"
Falconeyes raised an eyebrow. "It is? Then I'm sure an investigation would find nothing of the sort?"
"Naturally," Lellan agreed. "Gordo is simply a malcontent."
"Then what's this about a woman?" Falconeyes asked.
"She's an archer," Lellan replied. "One of those women who aren't interested in glory, but only join the crusade looking for a rich count to marry. Ra… re… something. I don't remember her name."
Damar chuckled. "Well, I'm no count, but my family has some renown… though I think we truly have something. Gorvo may have thought there was a special connection there, but there wasn't."
"You know Relia stayed in Kenabres!" Gorvo snapped. "What will you say next – that she flew here by dragon just to dump me, and that's why I was angry? There wasn't anything between us to begin with!"
"Enough," Falconeyes declared. "Damar, you and Lellan are suspended from command of your unit pending an investigation. In the event that the investigation finds no evidence of wrongdoing, you will be reinstated; in the case that the investigation finds inconclusive evidence of wrongdoing, you will both be demoted according to the balance of the evidence. If Private Gorvo's allegations are sustained, then you will be punished accordingly."
She folded her arms. "There is no circ*mstance under which torture of the type described should be required to keep discipline in this army; if you have persistent offenders of the sort you claim Private Gorvo to be, then the correct solution is to escalate this to higher authority, which is me, and if you have more than a few of them then you are the one at fault – and I will not see troops and units in this army destroyed by incapable or sad*stic commanders."
"But-" Lellan protested, then went silent.
Falconeyes turned to the shackled man. "As for you, Private, you are docked all pay for the month regardless of the outcome of the investigations. In addition, for striking a superior officer you are sentenced to serve in the Condemned."
She was keeping a very close eye on Private Gorvo as she passed sentence, and the man slumped slightly in relief.
Which was valuable information all by itself, really.
As the men left, accompanied by some of the headquarters guards, she began writing something out.
"Commander?" Regill asked.
"You didn't have many comments during that meeting," Juniper noted, adjusting her wording a little.
"I wished to observe, mostly," Regill replied. "If I might ask… what are you writing?"
"An announcement for the newsletter," Juniper explained. "To be sent to the whole army… I intend to have Arueshalae and Anevia independently look into what's going on within the army to make sure nobody is employing overly harsh methods."
She tapped the paper. "But, more importantly, I want to make sure it's known that for serious matters any soldier can come to me to address it… so long as it's truly serious, of course. It sounded as though Private Gorvo was genuinely unaware of the relevant laws."
"Indeed," Regill said. "Though it is… interesting to see this particular interaction from the outside. And to be certain you were not biased against me specifically."
Even in the first day of the investigation, there were clear signs of major problems.
Fortunately, it seemed as though the rot hadn't spread through the whole army, but some specific regiments had commanders who'd come from the nobility in Mendev – and who had, apparently, decided that displaying military efficiency in actual battle was enough of a justification to treat their soldiers however they wanted to, including the worst and most terrible kinds of disrespect to the enlisted men and women.
It wasn't even something Juniper couldn't understand. She couldn't condone it, not by any means, but the idea that an officer had to maintain a separation from their men and enforce harsh discipline was the kind of thing she could remember encountering in both historical campaigns and in actual service. And… sometimes it worked. But sometimes it crossed the line into wanton cruelty, and that was certainly what was going on with those units of the Mendevian army.
And the only real way to fix it was going to be to remove the officers. To send them elsewhere, or shift them into roles without authority over others, or – in the worst cases – send them to Camellia.
It was going to be a lot of work. At least the now-confirmed nature of Damar and Lellan's respective crimes meant that she would have an example to point to, but avoiding enlisted men taking advantage of the general restructuring to get revenge on a 'mere' martinet or disciplinarian was a whole other problem by itself.
After looking over her papers again, Juniper stood up.
She needed some fresh air, right now.
One way or another, Juniper's paws took her down to the temple district, and she sat down with a sigh on a bench looking towards the main temple – with a stained-glass window portraying Iomedae in all her glory, seeming to float above those entering her house of worship.
"Are you all right?" Arueshalae asked, softly.
"Just… annoyed," Juniper replied. "I missed this problem in the army until it was brought to my attention. I pride myself on being observant, but apparently that has limits."
Shifting a little, she moved her tails so they were more comfortable, and looked to her side at where Arueshalae occupied the other half of the same bench… invisible, though Juniper could tell where she was anyway from a dozen little half-subconscious clues she couldn't really have explained if she wanted to.
"I'm guessing something like that wouldn't even be a problem in a demon army?"
"It would be a problem," Arueshalae replied. "It's just… not something they'd see as one. People punishing and torturing others just because they can… that's the kind of thing demons do. Because they want to."
She looked up at the big window and its picture of Iomedae, then away again.
"But… that's the difference," the succubus added. "That… demons do it because they can, and they don't think anything of it. While some mortals do it, and others don't. And even the mortals who do do these terrible things know they have to hide it from other mortals. And that's a big difference, it's a difference that matters."
"I think I see," Juniper said. "So, restating – the difference between demons and mortals isn't the extreme worst, it's the average and the range."
"That's right," Arueshalae agreed. "I could wish that more demons would understand how wrong what they're doing is, but… it's difficult. I'm afraid every day that I'll make too many mistakes, and slip back into being terrible."
"It's something to be worried about," Juniper agreed. "Not because I think you're vulnerable to that kind of problem, but because I think the worst thing to do is to assume that you're not vulnerable. When you start thinking that the problem is solved, when you relax, that's when a surprise can come."
She looked up at the Bell of Mercy, sitting in its newly-built bell tower. The move from Greengates had gone well, and now the gentle tolling of the bell helped to reassure the people of Drezen.
"But you're doing well, Arueshalae," she added. "The struggle is not over, but you're winning."
"Thank you," Arueshalae said, ducking her head for a moment and blushing. "I know it sounds silly, but I sit here a lot. To just… watch mortals, and see how they behave. Learn what I can about things which I'd never thought about before."
"Mortals do that as well," Juniper told her, before chuckling. "Though usually not invisibly. It's sometimes called people-watching. And I can imagine that investigating Mendevian army units is sometimes depressing, so I can hardly complain about you trying to make up for it."
"It's not always bad," Arueshalae said, after some thought. "The first one, I was there for hours and they were training, and… not only did nothing bad happen, but they were all having fun. They were cursing at one another, but laughing and enjoying themselves. It was wonderful. But I felt… odd, as well. Like I shouldn't be there."
"Like it was something that was theirs, and not to be shared?" Juniper asked, and got a nod. "That's probably you worrying about their privacy."
"It must be," Arueshalae decided. "Though I don't know much about the right way to do things, there. Can I ask you… how do you deal with privacy?"
"The important thing is that… sometimes something a person does is in public, and sometimes it's in private," Juniper replied, thinking about how to phrase it. "When someone's out in public, outside their home and where others could see them, then that's – well, it's public. But normally, when someone is in a place where most others couldn't see them, or if they're inside a building that's not open to the public, it's private… the reason why it's more complicated than just being somewhere you can or can't see them is that we normally treat it that a house or room at an inn, or somewhere else like that, is private even if it happens that you can see inside."
Arueshalae nodded, a bit dubiously. "Right…" she said. "And… because that is their decision, it is important to respect that? But what about what the inquisitors do?"
"Unfortunately, that's one of those situations where things don't line up in a simple way," Juniper replied. "It's like tension on a bowstring… there is one pressure to do one thing, and another pressure to do something else, and between those two there is a balance. And the balance can shift back and forth, one way or the other… and there's no real substitute for learning what truly matters and what does not. Even most mortals don't get it right."
"And you do?" Arueshalae asked. "How are you so confident?"
"I'm not!" Juniper replied, with a chuckle. "I just recognize that mortals have so many different opinions about this, most of them have to be wrong. I'm probably one of them. But all I can do is use my best judgement, and try to avoid being too far over one side or the other… though sometimes it's less harmful to assume one side. In this particular case, I'd say to err on the side of privacy."
"To err on the side… that's an interesting saying," Arueshalae said. "I never really thought about it before, but I like it… the idea that you don't have to be perfect. You can choose which way to make a mistake, instead…"
"So, Irabeth?" Juniper asked, looking up from the map. "Can you tell what my plan is?"
Irabeth frowned, looking worried, then shook her head.
"I'm afraid not," she admitted. "You're moving troops one way and another, and I don't really understand how it all works together. It seems like you're marching some of them around just to keep them exercised… I can tell that there might be something about to happen, even without you asking that question, but the only other way I can tell is the logistics. Otherwise you might just be doing it because it amused you."
Anevia laughed. "I wouldn't put it past Caitrin, at least!"
"I mean no disrespect, of course," Irabeth added.
"Good," Juniper replied. "You've got just about all the information, and you're not sure… which should mean that when my plan actually manifests, the demons won't be sure either."
She pointed. "The core of what I'm doing, though, is indeed related to logistics, but what I'm actually doing is that there's about a ten percent surplus arriving here over the needs of the troops. The excess is all in long-term storables, being cached so that there's no large visible supply dump. Then forces from here will be able to make a series of long marches, thanks to all the march drill they've been doing, and they'll arrive there instead. But what's key to that is the bridge near Treasonhome, otherwise the movement wouldn't work."
"I'm not sure that will work, then," Anevia frowned. "The sentries on the bridge have been reporting demons sniffing around, and the kind of march you're talking about won't be covert – it's too far to go. They'll knock it down without a full army in place to protect it… you'd need a sharpshooter company, minimum, to fend off flyers."
"Which is why I'm going to march a sharpshooter company there at the head of the reinforcement column," Juniper explained. "And why there's a complete spare set of bridging equipment here. I sent double what they requested in all categories, because once it was in Treasonhome it was more trouble to haul back than it was worth – which provides an excuse for why it's there."
"...oh, I think I see," the spy realized.
Juniper winked. "There's nobody so easy to fool as someone who thinks they've just outsmarted you. So I actually don't care if that bridge goes down, the engineers will replace it in a day, and they'll probably be glad to be back to engineering."
Irabeth shook her head. "How do you do this?" she asked. "How do you manage to have these contingencies in place?"
"A mix of things, including some intuition," Juniper answered. "But one of them is to always look for ways you can use one resource for multiple purposes… it's never a good idea to get too clever when that costs you something else, but if you see a benefit without a cost then why not take it up? And in this case, the cost is minor – indeed, the bridging equipment is near the front either way, and if I'd needed it for something else I'd use it. It's only when I begin this campaign that I actually commit things."
There was a knock at the door, and Juniper looked up.
"Commander," said an officer, saluting. "The expedition to the Bloodwood has succeeded. We have the branch."
"Good," Juniper replied, rolling up the map. "Bring it in here and I'll have a look at it."
"Branch?" Anevia asked. "Why would you want a branch from a Bloodwood?"
"It's the Last Ash," Juniper explained. "I heard about it from a member of the Bloodwood tribe… the tribe as a whole was pursued during the fall of Sarkoris, unto exhaustion and death, and their shaman conducted a ritual to turn the whole tribe into a tree."
Irabeth and Anevia both stared at her.
"...did… that help?" Irabeth asked, hesitantly.
"Apparently," Juniper replied. "The pursuing demons found nothing but a giant ash tree that propped up the sky, howled in dismay, and burned down the nearby forest – but the ash was too large for them to fell."
She paused. "Of course, this could just be a legend, but the map is real enough and it was passed down by a family who claimed to be the descendants of one survivor. And there was a whisper that the last branch of the ash would bear witness to the end of demonic rule…"
"...but that would have to be a prophecy," Anevia realized. "Which don't work any more."
"Yes," Juniper concurred. "But I decided it was worth investigating."
"When we got there, the tree was mostly a stump," the officer said. "There was one branch left, which we retrieved as per instructions."
"You see," Juniper went on, as two of the men from the team brought in a long ashwood branch, "there's always interpretations to be had."
She inspected the branch, muttering a cantrip to switch to seeing magic, and frowned. "I think…"
Then she smiled.
"Ah, I know what this can be," she said. "I'll have to make time to teach Nenio how to use a polearm."
"...what?" Anevia asked. "And, also, isn't that a terrifying prospect? That kitsune's been helpful enough to the Crusade, Desna knows, and she's got a brilliant mind, but she's also about as mad as a box of frogs."
"It's true – though she is quite good with a crossbow," Juniper said. "But the magic around this weapon has three broad paths it follows. Fire rising to a crescendo, from the demons burning the forest. A whisper of healing, for the shaman's spell. And the mind overcoming mindless strength, from the tale as a whole. And that is what would make it a fine weapon for Nenio… because she'll be able to use it as if she were every bit as strong as she is smart."
Irabeth winced.
"Better you teach her than me, Commander," she said. "There's many things I wouldn't fear to do in Iomedae's name, but that's… intimidating."
"Are you sure this is helping?" Olivie demanded.
"I'm not sure, no," Sosiel replied, dabbing his paintbrush on his palette and then adding a detail to the painting he was doing. "But it's what I think will help, and that makes it worth doing."
Olivie grumbled, low in her throat, in what was a half-growl.
"If this is what mastering your rage is about, I'm not sure I want to do it," she said. "It's far too boring."
"If controlling yourself was easy, you wouldn't need to do it, because you'd already be doing it," Sosiel pointed out. "It's the same trouble I have myself… but if you'd like, I'll explain again."
"It'd be better than sitting around doing nothing," Olivie decided.
Sosiel was silent for a moment, after that, partly mixing the right kind of russet for Olivie's fur and partly putting together the words he was going to say.
"The easy thing to do is to listen to your emotions, especially anger," he said. "I know the feeling. It's when you have a simple solution, one that makes problems seem simple as well because you can solve them without the need for anything complicated – you just hit them, until the problem goes away. And that's not just something that's easy to fall into, and easy to keep doing, it's something that's… self reinforcing. It feels good to solve problems that way, because you're doing exercise. But what it's hard to see, from the inside, is that by doing that you're giving up control."
Olivie's paw tensed.
She didn't have Finnean with her, at the moment, but she did have the Numerian greatsword, and she held the hilt in both paws for a few seconds before relaxing slowly.
"You've got a point, but I don't have to like it," she said. "And if I have to not give in to my emotions all the time, isn't that the same amount of giving up control? It just means I have to follow those rules all the time."
"The point isn't to not give in to your emotions," Sosiel replied. "The point is to not always give in to your emotions."
He looked down, then back up at the canvas, and adjusted the colours he was using slightly with a little dab of extra brown mixed into the red. "Because… if you're able to make the choice, the honest choice, about what to do each individual time – that's when you're free. But if you're so insistent on avoiding any constraint that you always react with rage, you're not, really… but I'm sure you already knew that, because Juniper does."
"We're not the same, not properly," Olivie said, muscles tightening into a slight glare. "Similar in some ways, but not the same. And I don't always agree with her on what's important."
"That's true, but it means that it's been said," Sosiel replied. "And – well, it's a little like what I do, by bringing my teacups to war. I'm putting down my nice tablecloth and saying – this bit doesn't have to be as bad as the war is as a whole. I'm the one who has the ability to make that decision."
He glanced down, doing a little more painting, then back up at Olivie. "And you're the one who has the ability to make the decision about your rages. Nobody else can."
"And your argument is that I don't have that ability if I never use it to stop," Olivie said. "So does that mean that you don't have the ability to make a decision about healing people, because you always do?"
"It's-" Sosiel began, then stopped.
Olivie snorted.
"It's a good question," the cleric resumed. "But the answer is that… I still think I made the right decision afterwards. After looking at it, and thinking about it. I don't feel regret – and I'm happy with who I am."
"Sure, sure," Olivie said. "Not convinced, but… rf. You're making it sound like I need to sit there getting angry and not showing it."
"I'm saying you shouldn't end up as a one-use tool," Sosiel replied. "Now, what do you think of this?"
He turned the easel around.
"...am I really that annoyed?" Olivie asked, blinking.
"I toned it down a bit," Sosiel replied, with a chuckle. "You do tend to simmer…"
"Commander, I must ask you for some clarification," Lady Konomi said, some days later. "I have recently got word of the officers you have both demoted and sent to the Condemned."
"Yes," Juniper agreed. "If the list included, for example, officer Lellan, then I'm fairly sure you got the right list. Is that the clarification you were asking for?"
"Very amusing," Konomi replied. "But, as it happens, I was asking for more clarification of why you have given them both punishments. Reduction in rank, in some cases to ranks never previously held by those men and women, and you're sentencing them to the Condemned as well? That seems… overly punitive, no matter what the crimes of those men were."
"That would be because you're not thinking things through in terms of the army's smooth functioning," Juniper replied, levelly. "Lady Konomi, there is a matter here of discipline and of ensuring the smooth functioning of the army – and part of that is that the rules of war of the army must be obeyed. It is perfectly reasonable in some cases for the rules of the army to be violated when it is for good reason, but that good reason must afterwards be validated and in these cases nothing of the sort was going on."
"If the smooth functioning of the army is at question, then I can tell you that needlessly antagonising the various noble houses of Mendev is not going to provide that kind of benefit," the diplomat said, severely. "Commander, I can think of nothing so calculated to provoke opposition to you in Nerosyan."
"Fortunately, I can think of something that would neutralize it," Juniper answered. "I don't suppose you've read the army newsletter? It goes into some detail."
Lady Konomi shook her head.
"Shame," Juniper said. "But the substance of the problem is relatively simple. Within recent weeks I became aware of serious disciplinary problems in the army, stemming not from the rank and file soldiery but from the officer corps themselves. Those officers, predominantly of noble birth, were not merely martinets but actively torturing their men, in some cases in a manner resulting in the death of the soldiers, and that is something I cannot condone. It is something Mendev should not condone. I don't mean to accuse you of condoning such actions, but I could not possibly allow those actions to go unpunished – and the punishment would have to be severe."
"Well, yes," Konomi agreed. "I'm aware of that – the trials were hard to miss. But the cases where men had been abusing their soldiers that way resulted in executions, and by itself that was…"
She spread her paws. "It wasn't liked, among the nobility, but who would argue with the evidence provided? But that's not actually what I was objecting to. It was the demotions and the assignment to the Condemned of others."
"That would be because those officers would have to be either complicit or willingly blind," Juniper explained. "I do not know which. And, for the purposes of this punishment, I do not care which. If these men and women were complicit in the unsanctioned acts, then any punishment short of execution is their getting off lightly – and if they were merely blind to the avoidable damage being done in formations they were in or closely associated with, they do not deserve their command."
Juniper stood up at the last words, slamming her paw on the table, and Konomi stepped back a pace before collecting herself.
"Commander, your attitude does you no favours," she replied. "I am explaining why your decision will be controversial among the nobility."
"And I am explaining why the decision was taken, nonetheless," Juniper countered. "Understand this, Lady Konomi – I was not willing to tolerate those commanders and officers in their positions once the problems became apparent. That is a decision I will not be changing. In some cases the only reason I did not approve execution was because deliberate wrongdoing was not proved."
She smiled, grimly. "But to why I punished them in both ways. Firstly, the Condemned – they were sent there because that was a punishment short of execution. But there have been reforms to the Condemned, so that a sentence is not for life, and regardless of the cause these men and women have demonstrated that they were not fit for the ranks they previously held. So by demoting them I am preventing the problem from reoccurring – you might note that promotions of these specific individuals will now require my personal approval."
After a moment of silence, Juniper raised an eyebrow. "Does that meet your standards of evidence, Lady Konomi?"
"There was never a question of whether you had or had not acted in a manner permitted to you, Commander," Lady Konomi replied. "The actions you have taken will make it more difficult to gain support for you, politically. That is what I was saying."
"I'm sure," Juniper replied. "Perhaps it will be a salutatory lesson for those noble scions to rise up through the ranks. You might even consider pointing that out – if it would be politic, of course."
