Chapter 101
CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED ONE
I called another meeting in the war room the following morning, wanting to regroup now that I had more accurate numbers of our troops from the reports I had gone over the night before, since it wasn’t as if sleep had been an option.
I also needed to know what we could expect from the Besklanovvy . It was a topic the lords had been avoiding like the plague itself, but if I dangled our shortage of soldiers in front of them, someone was sure to address it today. I could have brought it up myself, but there would be significantly more pushback from the other lords, not to mention the reaction of my wife.
So, I had made the purpose of this meeting clear when I sent out the word and opened the floor the moment we sat down.
Taras’s father did not disappoint. He looked straight at Rowan once she was seated, asking his question in an even, respectful tone.
“Lady Rowan, what of your men?” He had always been a fair lord, but this was the first time he had shown his open support for her.
Then again, he was practical above all—a trait his eldest son had clearly gotten from him—and we needed all the help we could get to win this war.
Not everyone shared that viewpoint, of course. Before Rowan could even respond, Lord Sidorov cut in.
“We can’t honestly be thinking to let Unclanned fight—” he began, but my wife spoke out in a louder tone.
“They are not Unclanned any longer. They belong to me now.” Her tone was unyielding.
“However,” I said slowly, noting the way her shoulders went taut at the sound of my voice, “they will be offered the chance to rejoin society in exchange for their fighting for Bear.”
It was one of the many things I had considered the night before. Perhaps some of them had been removed for genuine dissension, but there were plenty who had not. Besides, though I didn’t plan to mirror Lochlann’s political structure, I had found the story of MacKinnon particularly interesting, a rebel with a seat on the council.
More than all of those things, though, I also erred on the side of practicality, and having bands of unfed women and children was not only shameful, it was a guarantee of crime. If we hadn’t insisted on outcasting members of our own society, perhaps they wouldn’t have been desperate enough to take Ava’s coin.
And Dmitriy wouldn’t have died.
Then there was the matter of honor and the fact that we were all standing because the Unclanned had consented to fight for us, whatever their motivations. I looked at my wife, happy to be able to agree with her on at least this one thing.
“I think they’ve more than earned it,” I told her, repeating the words she had hurled in my general direction the day she arrived.
Her lips twitched, though she didn’t quite smile. “I quite agree. You were saying, "Lord Lehtinan?”
“Will they continue to fight with us?” he asked.
It was a question I had been curious about as well, though I suspected the answer hinged entirely on her.
She gave a sharp dip of her chin. “Yes. They stay with me, and I don’t plan on going anywhere until this war is won.”
I turned my head toward her, examining her features for signs of a lie. But only sincerity shone from her gaze, tinged with enough sadness to give me pause. A few of the lords chuckled, but the sound was muted by the heartbeat that was suddenly far too loud in my ears.
I wasn’t sure which part of that was worse. That she would leave after the war, or that she would stay until it was over, just long enough to keep herself a target of the opposing side.
Then what? In the event that we prevailed, she would take the second chance we had at our lives together and walk back to Lochlann with it?
“What will your men need?” Taras directed the question at Rowan, but his eyes cut over to me.
I straightened in my chair, taking more care to school my features—something I hadn’t had to be reminded to do in as long as I could remember. Pushing thoughts of the future from my mind, I forced myself to focus on this meeting. None of it would matter if we were defeated.
“Most of them are in need of new boots,” she said. “Weapons, obviously.”
I pictured rows and rows of corpses that were still in line for the pyre outside, our own men and enemies alike. Every soldier in Socair was supplied with good boots and a standard issue sword.
My cousin echoed my thoughts, his eyes going distant and dark as he no doubt saw the same thing. “There are plenty of spare weapons and boots to go around right now.”
Rowan pursed her lips, not missing his meaning. She nodded her understanding before pausing like something had dawned on her.
“Oh, and the use of the training yard this afternoon?”
Taras shot me a loaded look, full of hesitation I understood and shared. Though the estate should be grateful for the Besklanovvy —and some of them were—it didn’t take away a lifetime of learning to disdain and fear anyone with a brand. After the first day where the soldiers had been too tired and too stunned to react, the mistrust had become apparent by yesterday.
“Our men won’t train with them,” he told her plainly.
I braced myself for her ire. Sure enough, she blinked irritably, looking at me. Taras wasn’t entirely right. Technically speaking, our men would do what I ordered them to do, but it would come at a steep price when we needed their loyalty as much as their blind obedience.
Given that we were sending most of the soldiers away from the estate, it would be a small number affected here, reasonable enough to take the risk if the alternative was losing the Besklanovvy .
I raised my eyebrows at her, letting her know I wouldn’t force her hand even as I resigned myself to a future of bitter looks from every soldier I crossed paths with.
Rowan furrowed her brow, taking a breath before she turned back to Taras with her decision.
“They don’t need to train together,” she said, clenching her jaw like the compromise rankled her. But it was a compromise she was making all the same, one she wouldn’t have considered a few months ago. “These are my men, anyway. Perhaps the Bear soldiers could vacate the training yard for a couple of hours?”
Taras nodded, and I did as well. It was a good plan. My men only did part of their training in the yard to begin with, utilizing the nearby forests and mountains to incorporate more of Captain Finn’s chaotic battle techniques for the rest.
Vacating it entirely in the afternoon would take some maneuvering, but it was a far better option than the alternative.
My lemmikki had always been so quick to react, to make a statement, to stand on principle and damn the consequences. I wasn’t sure when that had changed; if it had been since her time with the Unclanned.
Or if I had only missed the signs of it along the way.
After the meeting, Rowan left to find her men and I went with Taras to speak with mine.
Of the five commanders present, four of them clenched their jaws when we informed them that they would need to schedule their training around the three hours reserved for the Besklanovvy in the afternoon. But they placed their fists over their hearts, nonetheless, saluting before they left to give the orders.
“That could have gone worse,” Taras said.
“Well, they were hardly likely to sign up to join the Unclanned in the same breath they expressed their disdain for them,” I countered.
He raised his eyebrows. “Would you, though?”
Would I unclan someone, knowing my wife would just conscript them into her army? Would I bother, knowing they would be fighting for us either way?
Would I do it even if those things weren’t true, now that the decision was mine?
I supposed it would depend on how badly I needed an example made, and what the risks were of letting the behavior go unchecked. Logically, I would likely choose a different course of action for the time being. Beyond that, things were murkier.
“Probably not,” I acknowledged. “But they don’t know that.”
Once the new schedule was set, I took the time to train with my men. They were always relentless, but the realities of war had spurred each one of them to new heights. They were fixing their mistakes faster, pushing harder at their limits, and looking at me with more respect than fear after the weeks they had fought at my side and under my command.
That would be an edge in and of itself. Defeated soldiers made for uncertain soldiers, men who were twice as likely to falter, while mine were still riding the high of a victory, whatever the price had been.
And Iiro’s brutality might have made the example he wanted, but he would alienate the men who had followed him for his honor. All the tactics he had used to scare us just might weaken him in the end if he lost the trust and respect of his soldiers.
When our time in the training yard was up, I took a moment to remind my men of who they were and what they had accomplished so far. They responded with a perfectly synchronized salute that had my lips tilting into a proud smile.
They might have been my father’s men once, but those remaining belonged to me. And they were more than a match for Iiro’s men.
While Taras went to let my wife know that the yard was free, I walked back to the estate with the commanders, conveying the areas I had noted for improvement.
Once that was done, I found myself right back in the training area, drawn to my lemmikki by the same magnetic force that had made me notice her at the Summit, though she should have been nearly invisible surrounded by men twice her size.
It was that way now, too. Her soldiers were thin, but the shortest one still topped her by a solid foot. That didn’t stop me from spotting her immediately, weaving behind the groups of men as she surveyed their sparring techniques.
Where my men were a combined, efficient force, each of hers fought like an army unto themselves. There was an abandon with the way they thrust themselves into even a casual spar. The ragged desperation with which they had survived their lives on the fringes of society had forged them into something just a hair more dangerous than the average soldier.
There were downsides to the scattered set of fighting styles and the independence of their movements, but they were undeniably an asset.
I moved closer to my lemmikki, nodding my approval. “Skilled and brutal. It’s a good combination for war.”
She inclined her head in acceptance of the praise. Then she squared her shoulders, turning to look at me head on. “Spar with me.”
It was an order as much as it was a request. I raised my eyebrows, not surprised in the least by her imperious tone, but decidedly more so at her intentionally placing herself in my proximity when she had barely looked at me all day.
She sighed, not quite meeting my eyes. “I want to get better with both blades. And not to make that giant head of yours any bigger, but we both know that you’re the best person for that job.”
I couldn’t quell the small bit of satisfaction that tugged at my lips. In her own stubborn way, she was asking for my help, acknowledging that I was the best person to train her, though I was hardly the only one here who fought with two swords.
Even if standing close to her was painful right now, I would never miss a chance to help her get stronger, let alone when we were in the middle of a war.
I tilted my head in acquiescence, gesturing to the nearest ring. “I am ever at your service.”