Kaelin noticed Gaise Macon looked surprised by the announcement. ‘With respect, Father, I thought you would wish to speak to Master Ring about his troops.’
‘Not at this time. You and he should converse. You will find you have much in common. Good night to you, Master Ring.’
Kaelin nodded.
‘Oh, by the way, your aunt Maev is now a general in my army. Novel, don’t you think?’
Kaelin made no attempt to disguise his shock. ‘A general?’
‘She is in charge of supplies,’ said Gaise Macon. ‘My father has developed an odd sense of humour.’
‘Indeed I have,’ said the Moidart. ‘Life, I have discovered, is almost always so tragic that it becomes amusing. However, in this case, the appointment was not made lightly. As one of my generals she will have powers that a quartermaster could not call upon. I will see you at the briefing, Master Ring. When you have finished here, Gaise, join me and Powdermill in the upper apartment.’
After he had left Kaelin looked hard at the blond-haired cavalryman, seeking any sign of resemblance to himself. Having never known his own father, nor seen a painted likeness, Kaelin had no point of reference to make comparisons. They were around the same height, but there any similarity ended. Kaelin was square-jawed, his dark eyes deep set. Gaise Macon looked like the nobleman he was, fine ascetic bone structure and an aquiline nose.
‘Is there something about me that troubles you?’ asked Gaise.
‘No.’
‘You seem to be staring rather.’
‘You don’t look much like your father,’ said Kaelin.
‘Something to be thankful for. You say there will be two thousand Rigante?’
‘Within three days.’
‘I am not sure how best to use them. Modern army warfare requires discipline and an understanding of the structures of command. You follow?’
‘Oh, I am sure I can keep up – if you speak slowly and clearly.’
‘I am not trying to insult your men, Ring.’
‘Best not, Macon.’
Gaise rubbed his hand across his face, then moved to where a flagon of wine stood on a cabinet. ‘We seem to be heading in different directions, my friend. Would you like a glass of wine?’
‘No.’
‘I know the Rigante are fine fighters. I know they crushed an army of my father’s a few years back. I have no doubts whatever concerning their skill in combat. What I am saying is that unless there is discipline they will be cut to pieces. This will not be a war won by a single charge. We will need to co-ordinate our attacks and seek common objectives. We do this by developing a plan of action and relying on every unit to follow its orders implicitly.’
‘I understand that,’ said Kaelin. ‘So do my men.’
‘The plan, for instance, may call for the Rigante to attack suddenly, and then fall back in apparent disarray, leading the enemy to think they have won. This will draw the enemy forward into a trap. I need to be able to rely on you to follow my orders to the letter.’
‘You don’t put a saddle on a war hound,’ said Kaelin Ring.
‘Meaning?’
‘I’ll take that wine now, if I may?’
‘Of course,’ said Gaise Macon, filling a goblet and passing it to the clansman. Kaelin sipped it.
‘It’s good – though a little young.’ He put down the goblet. ‘My meaning is simple. The Rigante are fighting men, hard and relentless. The men I bring are the best of the best. Every one of them has courage and tenacity. They will cut their way through any force the enemy can offer. Give us ground to hold and we will defend it to the death. You’ll have no worries about the Rigante fleeing the field. We will stand. But we are not army men. Your clever plans, your flanking movements, your deceptions will need to be carried out by those trained in that kind of warfare. From what I understand you have twelve thousand men enlisted from the army of the Finance. Professional soldiers. They will fight for you only so long as they believe you can win, and only so long as their wages are met. You have over five thousand Eldacre men, who will stand fast – at least for a while – because they are fighting for their own land and have nowhere to run. And you have the Rigante. You do not know it yet, but the Rigante are the best hope you have. We can either be the hammer or the anvil. Nothing in between. Use us wisely.’