The senior officers heard him out—what else could they do?—but the few who took his diatribes to heart had been of his personal clique before he had begun. Most of the officers recognized just what he was trying to accomplish and knew full well just why he was trying to accomplish it. Unimpressed by him, they all knew exactly why their soldiers were deserting or trying to desert or purposefully injuring themselves; they were doing so for the same reasons that so many junior officers were either trying to sell back their ranks or just resigning and riding off to their homes the poorer. The combination of old Pahvlos’ dogged determination to convert the entire army to total abstinence from women, unwatered wine, and the use of either hemp or tobacco if he had to flog, maim, mutilate or kill half of them to do it would have been enough, but with a useless, senseless march into the swamps and salt fens looming in the near futures of them all, it did not take an intellectual giant to perceive that Council’s army, now commanded by an obvious madman, was become a distinctly unhealthy place in which to remain longer. Indeed, not a few of the senior officers were thinking seriously of early and quick retirement to their lands or cities, had the old man but known.
Far-flung expeditionary forces had been summoned to return to the base camp under the walls of Mehseepolis, and as these smaller units trickled in to be confronted with the hosts of new rules and list of now-forbidden activities—each one, to the minds of the average man, more nonsensical and stupid than the one preceding it—and the halved pay and the frenetic activity in preparation for an extremely dangerous expedition that, were truth known, no one but him responsible for its inception really anticipated with any emotions save fear and horror, whole bodies of not only common soldiers but sergeants and specialists began to desert. They went over the perimeter by dark of night, or they did not come back from errands or details outside the heavily guarded military enclave. Members of units sent out in pursuit of deserters took to not returning, and it was found that punishing the officers in charge of these units did nothing but to increase the rate at which junior officers departed the army.
At length, the mess had begun to stink so foully that Council was moved to calling as full an assembly as possible and hearing a move to force the retirement of its Grand Strahteegos. But old Pahvlos owned vehement supporters on the Council and, as a thoheeks in civil life, was himself a member. He had, of course, hotly defended his methods of discipline and punishment, refusing to retire, regardless of his age, which was approaching eighty years, and his supporters on Council had spoken so forcefully in his defense that Council Guardsmen had had to be summoned three times to break up brawls between noblemen. Several duels and at least one attempted assassination had been the eventual and only result of the session, and the disgusted chairman, Thoheeks Grahvos, had ended by dismissing everyone with nothing in the way of business settled.
With the captains of both lancer squadrons under arrest, confined to their respective quarters and awaiting hearings by a not yet formed board of officers, the Grand Strahteegos dispatched orders to Senior Captain and Commander of the Cavalry Brigade Thoheeks Portos to appoint the senior lieutenant of each squadron acting-captain-of-squadron and have them take over command during the campaign, wherein the lancers would as usual ride point, flanks and rearguard, back up the scouts whenever necessary and, themselves, scout out from the perimeters of nightly camps. This order resulted in both senior lieutenants immediately selling back their ranks and in one departing the camp soon thereafter. Nor would any of the troop-lieutenants deign to take over their function even when offered them at no cost.
That had been when the Grand Strahteegos had decided to merge the seven troops of lancers into a new “great squadron” and place it under the command of one of his favorite staff officers, Captain Gaios of Thehsmeeyee. This signal honor the tall, willowy officer sought to decline, first pointing out that he was more than fulfilled in his present function, then mentioning at some length his unworthiness for such an honor and his patent inexperience in command of combat troops. These points being all poopooed by old Pahvlos, the staff officer had first offered to sell back his rank, then begged the army commander to allow him to forfeit his investment and revert to lower rank. He was brusquely refused and ordered to pack his gear, mount his horse and ride over to the heavy cavalry enclave, present himself to the commander of the brigade of cavalry and tell him that he was to henceforth be captain of the great squadron of lancers.
Seemingly dutifully, Captain Gaios mounted his horse and rode off, leaving his servants to pack his effects, but he did not ride into the cavalry enclave; rather was he last seen headed west on the main trade road, having left a hastily scrawled letter of resignation on his writing desk.
The Grand Strahteegos still was fulminating against the cowardly and backbiting Captain Gaios when Captain-of-brigade Thoheeks Portos—outwardly grave, but secretly gleeful—dropped the next bit of bad news.
“My lord Strahteegos, Captain Chief Pawl Vawn of Vawn says that no one of his Horseclansmen or prairiecats will be on the Sahvahnahspolis operation; rather are they all preparing to return to Kehnooryos Ehlahs, saying that they have been absent long enough from their wives and families. Before they go, Captain Chief Pawl demands that he be paid the seven months’ pay now due them. He adds that he must have the full amount agreed upon in his original contract with Council, not the half-pay that now is being given other units.”
The old man’s face darkened perceptibly and veins began to bulge ominously in his forehead, but before he could commence an outburst, Captain Thoheeks Portos, with skillful cunning, dropped the other shoe.
“Moreover, my lord Strahteegos, Captain Guhsz Hehluh refuses to go anywhere for any purpose until the month’s pay owed his pikemen is paid along with six more months in advance, their beer ration is restored to replace the watered wine, they are given back the right to come and go as they wish, on and off the campgrounds, on their off-duty hours and are no longer hindered or harassed in their bringing back, possessing and enjoying hwiskee, brandy, winter wine, honey wine, double beer, ales, hemp and tobacco. Captain Hehluh states that if your paymaster does not pay him all that he wants in full and to the last half-copper, then he will march his full unit into Mehseepolis under arms and demand the money of Council.”
“He wouldn’t dare!” hissed Pahvlos. “Like all barbarians, he is only moving his lips and tongue to hear himself talk.”
“My lord should not be so certain that Captain Hehluh will not do just what he threatens,” cautioned Portos solemnly. “Remember, he and his men were proven veterans of formal warfare long before they came down to serve the Consolidated Thoheekseeahnee. They terribly resent the unaccustomed strictures put upon their lives by my lord’s modes of army discipline, and the reduction of their pay by half and the delays in giving them even that have infuriated them.”
“Well,” snarled Pahvlos, “if the unwashed swine of barbarian, alien sows don’t care to serve me in a strictly organized army, let them just march back to their sties and thus remove their hateful stink from under the noses of decent, cultured Ehleenohee!”