Tallowcross

Chapter 3: An Audience with the King

Chapter 3

An Audience with the King.

Erdinand's Castle. Centre of the Realm.

The three hundred marines fell back on their first position, their cream and purple armor glistening in the low afternoon sun as they moved. Outnumbered ten to one, they fought valiantly with wooden staves, dragging many of the opposition under their arms by the neck as they retreated. Orders were barked across the frosty afternoon, urging the men to hold their formation. Clouds of steam rose from the tight chiltrons, hundreds of men's breaths mingling as one.

"Keep the line!" Colonel Precki bawled from high above, fully aware that he would not be heard in the conflict far below. He pushed himself to the edge of the King's balcony as the marines' formation morphed slightly out of regulation.  He roared, "I will punish you!" as he flourished his fist in the air.

Precki's Lieutenant, standing by his side, took notes as the organized retreat continued.

"Ander's section is the worst." Precki punched the Lieutenant's arm, almost sending the notebook flying. He pointed at the buckling line. "Look, his men show their sides to the attackers."

Wooden staves flashed as the elite group fell back to their prepared position.

King Erdinand leant over the balcony, determined to get a better view. His boyish features somehow amiss in the group of elders on the balcony. "What is amiss Colonel?"

The anger in Precki's sideways glance was barely veiled. "They lose their line, your majesty. The formation buckles, leaving weakness and a chance for the enemy to strike." He pointed to various points in the marines position.

Erdinand smiled. "But it is cold, Colonel, there is still some snow on the ground. It must be difficult underfoot."

"Difficult or no, they must do better, or we will lose the war." He waved his hands in frustration. "Next spring, if we send untrained, undisciplined troops to the front, they will be torn apart and the westerners will be at your castle walls in a year."

"But Colonel, there is barely a marine in the front line without a prisoner! How can you criticize that some do not still fight?"

Pecki's bottom lip quivered. "They do not perform!" he squeaked. "Performance in a game leads to perfection in war!" The colonel was now visibly shaking.

Erdinand gave the Colonel a long, searching look, then waved his hand. "I have seen enough." He turned from the balcony and as he walked inside he discarded the heavy cloak to a waiting pair of arms.

The vassals around the new King followed, but the Marine commander and his aide stoutly kept their place on the balcony. Colonel Precki waved to either side for the correct signal flags to be raised. Quickly the trumpets from below announced the war game over for the day.

"I saw a good account, Colonel Precki." King Erdinand walked through open door to the balcony and swigged heartily from a goblet of warm, mulled wine. "I commend your attention to detail, but ask that you go easily on the men."

Precki did not answer immediately, but watched as the battle ceased on the plain below, the guild masters taking command, and seemingly no untoward injuries sustained by either side.

Embarrassment grew on the faces in the room, as they waited for the Colonel's response, then as the King's expression began to waver, Precki turned from the balcony, and walked into the stateroom towards the group.

"We will have to do better, your majesty." He said simply, walking past the King. Followed by his flustered Lieutenant, he determinedly crossed the room. "The war does not go well, and we have little time to prepare for the next season."