Sofarita remained with him for another hour, discussing strategies. Then feeling the approach of Almeia, she bade him farewell and returned to her body.
Now, as she lay in her bed, she thought again of Talaban.
His bravery had not surprised her, but she had been pleased with his sensitivity in dealing with Pendar. She wondered what it would be like to touch Talaban’s skin, to stroke her fingers across his cheek. For a moment only she was a farm girl again, remembering her first time with Veris. Only it wasn’t Veris in her imagination. It was the lean, powerful figure of Talaban the Avatar.
Cold reality struck her.
You are not a farm girl any longer. You are a goddess.
A dying goddess.
Questor Ro was not asleep. The day had been a long one, supervising the training of new recruits at the three barracks. The task was not easy. Thousands of Vagars wanted to enlist and each one needed to be physically examined and questioned at length. In turn this led to massive lines of men, snaking out around the buildings, blocking thoroughfares. Ro had been summoned to create order from the chaos. At the first of the barracks he had found Rael and Mejana in heated debate. She wanted to know why fit young men could not merely sign their name and be assigned to a unit. Rael was struggling to explain the military ramifications of such a move. Neither was making an impression on the other.
Ro stepped in. ‘If I may speak,’ he said. Mejana was struggling to hold her temper. Rael also was ashen-faced. Both nodded. ‘Let me first sum up both points of view. The Questor General is concerned that our new army be disciplined and effective. You, lady, are worried about the need for such rigorous examination, fearing it may be some part of a secret Avatar plan to retain control of the army.’
‘Exactly,’ said Mejana.
‘I am not, as Rael knows, a military man,’ said Ro. ‘But I do know certain principles that should always apply. Our army is small but it has, over the years, proved effective. Lines of communication are well drawn, officers and men know one another well. Orders, when given, are carried out with speed and efficiency. A huge influx of untrained recruits could prove chaotic. It is, I understand, the Questor General’s plan to add one thousand new soldiers. This would almost double our force.’
‘We could put twenty thousand men on the field of battle,’ said Mejana. ‘We would outnumber the Almecs five to one.’
‘And watch them all slaughtered!’ snapped Rael.
‘With respect, lady,’ said Ro, soothingly, ‘and I do mean with respect, for I believe you to be a formidable woman, you are out of your depth in this matter. What I said about lines of communication is not just important, but utterly vital. In any battle a general must be able to formulate changes in strategy, give orders and see them carried out swiftly. What you are suggesting is that we face the Almecs with an undisciplined mob. We Avatars have fought such armies before. We always won. At the first attack hundreds of them are killed. The rest become demoralized. Some decide to run for safety. This causes confusion and, more often than not, panic. We do not have time to train a huge force. However, I think I know a compromise.’
‘It needs to be a good one,’ said Rael. ‘There should be two forces,’ said Ro. ‘The first will be the army and we will continue our examinations as before, seeking only one thousand of the fittest, most able men. The second will be a militia force under appointed commanders in every district. These will be men who will defend the walls when called upon or who will fight on the streets if the walls are breached. Each district commander will appoint sub-commanders and they will organize distribution of weapons. How does that sound?’
‘A recipe for disaster,’ said Rael.
‘I like it,’ said Mejana. ‘My people will feel, perhaps for the first time, that their destiny is in their own hands.’
Then we are done here,’ said Rael. ‘Excuse me.’ He stalked from the room. Mejana turned to Ro.
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