Ontogeny

Chapter 18b

     The next few days were frustrating ones for the King as they waited for news from the Carrow garrison cities.

     Leothan paced the corridors of the palace in a fever of nervous energy, glowering and irritable, having to constantly watch everything he said in case he snapped at someone whose only crime was to have had the misfortune to cross his path. He was determined not to be the sort of person who vented his frustration on underlings, people who couldn't defend themselves, and his being King meant that there were no other kinds of people in the whole Kingdom. There was literally no limit to his power and authority. Before the attack on his daughter, the Queen had kept tight reins on him, but now she could only agonize over Ardria to the exclusion of all other duties and responsibilities. That meant that the only thing that could keep him in check, keep him from excesses and abuses of power, was himself.

     he needed to appoint a conscience, he decided. Someone whose only job was to follow him around and tell him the things that no-one else would dare to. Someone who was constitutionally immune to punishment. Someone that other people could go to when there was something on their mind, some issue that they feared to broach with the King themselves. Someone who had no vested interests they might want to promote. No agendas of their own, which ruled out most of the aristocracy and government ministers.

     It would have to be a commoner, he thought. Perhaps he could organise a lottery, the winner to be... No, that was a stupid idea. Most commoners lacked the training, the education, most importantly the intelligence for such a role. Also, they would have no idea how to conduct themselves amongst royalty and nobility. He would become a laughing stock amongst the other royal families of the world. A military man, perhaps. High ranking, because the junior ranks were trained to obey and wouldn’t have the nerve to speak up to him. Someone whose loyalty and grounded common sense he could trust. Someone with the courage to speak up when needed. Someone like the Brigadier, perhaps. He stopped in mid step, making his Private Secretary almost bump into him. Now there was an idea...

     He was jolted out of his train of thought when a runner appeared and trotted up to him. “Majesty. News from Fastyke. Victory, Sire! The army has won a glorious victory!”

     Leothan's heart leapt with joy and he strode off towards the War Room, almost at a run.

     Most of the War Council was already there, and a cheer of relief went up as the King entered. “Victory, Sire,” said General Pavok, grinning with delight and relief. “The operation went exactly as planned.” He beckoned over the messenger, who bowed low.

     “They had no warning,” the messenger said. ”They were at a low level of alert, but it didn't pose a problem. The engineers blew holes in the city wall, the army went in and caught them unprepared.”

     “Prisoners?” asked the King.

     “Thousands, Sire, but many fewer than there might have been. The enemy chose to fight, as soon as they were over their initial shock. There are rumours that the enemy commanders ordered their men to surrender when they saw their position was hopeless. General Grogen speculated that they were thinking to burden us with prisoners, having guessed our strategy, but if so their subordinates chose to disobey them.”

     “How many men did we lose?”

     “Five hundred dead or incapacitated, about three thousand walking wounded. Another thousand needed to guard the prisoners and bring them back across the border.”

     “So the army’s down by nearly ten percent,” said General Glowen. “And three more cities to hit yet. And the men will be tired. Barely any time to rest before they have to march again. The next city will be harder, the one after that harder still, even if they get no warning. If everything goes perfectly, we have to count on losing half the army before this is over.”