Even Father... Has Convened the Eisenmark Countermeasures Committee, Desuwa!
Even Father... summoning an Eisenmark countermeasures committee, of all things...
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"How are Cormac and Mikhail faring?"
"Both have regained consciousness, and their treatment is proceeding well. As for Cormac, he will carry a scar, but by good fortune his life is not in danger."
I nodded. Cormac was a valuable asset to the standing army, and Mikhail... by all accounts a first-year recruit, but even so, his courage alone deserved recognition. Both were men far too good to be thrown away so senselessly in a duel like that.
"An urgent dispatch has already been sent to Their Graces, the Grand Duke and Duchess."
At Woldin's words, I raised an eyebrow slightly.
"When was it sent?"
"The moment the Sergen delegation first arrived. Once we've compiled the results of my lady's duel and of everything that happened today, we intend to send a second dispatch shortly."
"Sound judgment, Captain Woldin."
I looked around the table. Complicated emotions were written across every face there — admiration for the astonishing victory of Lady Katerina, the Grand Duke's daughter, worry over the Sergen threat, and an undercurrent of anxiety about what was to come.
"I imagine you are all curious about something. The true meaning of what I said to the Sergen delegation."
Council chairman Polonsky opened his mouth carefully.
"You courteously declined the Sergen delegation's demands, my lady, and then stated at the end that an answer would be given once His Grace the Grand Duke returned. It seemed somewhat—"
"You mean it sounded like wordplay?"
I cut in with a smile. Polonsky cleared his throat and shook his head, but it was plainly true that the thought had crossed his mind.
"What I said was not mere evasion of responsibility. It was a stratagem to buy us the time we need."
I pointed to the map spread across the desk. The Grand Duchy of the north, the Northern Sea beyond it, and the lands where the Sergen tribes dwelt.
"The very fact that someone called the Unifier, Kurgan, has united the Sergen tribes under one banner is already a grave threat. But if we provoke them with an outright refusal right now, we could find ourselves dragged into a war before we are anywhere near ready."
I rose from my seat and walked to the window.
Beyond the northern horizon, far in the distance — what manner of danger might be lurking out there?
"By saying we would answer when Father returns, we bought ourselves time until His Grace the Grand Duke takes up his post again. In the meantime, we can gather more intelligence and shore up our defenses."
I saw heads nodding around the table. In Polonsky's eyes especially, there was now an appraisal quite different from the doubt he had shown toward my knowledge earlier.
"Then how much time do we have?"
At Woldin's question, I turned from the window and drew a deep breath. Everyone waited on my answer.
"Not enough. The Sergen... I believe they will start a war."
At my flat pronouncement, the air in the room grew heavy. The candle flames on the table flickered, and their shadows danced along the walls.
"My lady. Vigilance is of course warranted, but the Sergen merely demanded tribute. They have not yet spoken of war."
Polonsky said cautiously.
"You truly believe the Unifier Kurgan would demand tribute and simply go away? I'm afraid that's unthinkable."
Regrettable as it was, my prediction would prove correct. I returned to the table and laid my fingers on the map, indicating the Northern Sea and the Sergen territories.
"Consider the abnormal weather we've observed in the north over the past several years. The winters are growing longer, and the ice of the Northern Sea is pushing further south each year. Even the fishing villages of Sokolov territory are relocating inland."
I swept my finger across the map.
"It stands to reason the Sergen tribes are suffering the very same conditions. Their lands lie further north than ours — their plight may well be worse. They will be desperate for food, and for land."
"So that is why they demanded tribute in grain and livestock."
Woldin nodded in understanding.
"And it doesn't stop there. According to Volgar, the Unifier Kurgan has made all the land from the northernmost edge of the habitable world to the coasts across the Northern Sea her own.
Would a conqueror of that caliber suddenly turn to consolidating what she has? Absurd. Far more reasonable to assume she will point her blade outward — resolving her internal tensions for a time, while projecting all the military strength amassed during her unification."
"In the end, then, they have no choice but to come south."
"Precisely. If we bow our heads at the outset, it will buy us a little delay — but sooner or later, the Unifier Kurgan will demand not tribute, but land. It is certain. Which brings me to this: what is our current military strength? The forces of the direct domain alone, I mean."
Woldin paused in thought for a moment.
"The standing army — the Citadel Guard and the city watch combined — numbers some three thousand, and if we call up the militia we can raise perhaps five thousand more. Around eight thousand in total."
"And the Unifier Kurgan's army? Do we have any current intelligence on the Sergen tribes at all?"
At my question, the people around the table exchanged glances.
Come to think of it... if Captain Woldin handles military affairs and Chairman Polonsky handles internal matters like running the citadel, then who exactly am I supposed to ask about intelligence?
Having never received any handover, I knew nothing. It was then that Woldin, who had been watching my expression, stepped in.
"You would do best to ask Vasily the elder... Councillor Orlov, that is."
The grey-haired old man seated at the far end of the table lifted his head.
This kindly-looking grandfather was a close confidant of the current Grand Duke, Chadomir Gigant Eisenmark, and his Tayny Sovetnik — his secret councillor.
His name was Vasily Orlov, and he was said to be the man who oversaw the entire intelligence network of the Grand Duchy.
"My lady, even while His Grace the Grand Duke is away, we have continued to gather intelligence on Sergen without pause."
Orlov answered in a mild voice and produced a small notebook.
"The one called the Unifier Kurgan began building her influence among the Sergen tribes roughly fifteen years ago. The Sergen are divided into five major tribes, and those tribes have traditionally competed with one another, feuding throughout their history."
Orlov pointed to the map.
"Kurgan first unified the northern and eastern tribes, then gradually extended her reach. As Milena Sokolov mentioned, the abnormal climate of the past three years has accelerated the process of unification. More and more tribes are swearing fealty to her."
"How large are their forces?"
At my question, Vasily consulted his notebook briefly.
"According to our intelligence, some fifteen to twenty thousand warriors already stand under Kurgan's command. Should all the tribes be fully unified, that number could swell beyond thirty thousand."
Woldin cut in midway through Vasily's explanation.
"And the Sergen warriors... as you saw today through Volgar, they are superior in combat to our ordinary soldiers. They learn to fight from childhood, for the sake of sheer survival."
I looked around the table, studying each face in turn. Every one of them was grave.
"Hmmmm....... "
I let out a sigh. Three thousand regulars and a little over five thousand militia. Eight thousand at best if you added them all together. Against the Unifier Kurgan's estimated force of fifteen to twenty thousand, it was a pitifully small number.
If we count only the direct domain, our strength is far too thin.
Frowning, I studied the map. The direct domain centered on Eisenfels, and the vassal territories great and small ringing it around. To the south, the border with the Empire; beyond the Northern Sea, the lands of the Sergen tribes.
If we scrape together soldiers from every vassal, the numbers will grow, of course. We might even outnumber the Sergen...
A bitter smile rose inside me. Unless they were powerful lords like the Volkovs or the Sokolovs, most of what the vassals could put in the field would be peasant levies.
Peasant levies. Men who had spent their whole lives planting fields, tending livestock, felling trees, and hauling in fish. Men who knew nothing in this world but the labor of sweating from dawn to dusk.
What weapons could we even give them? And armor?
The Grand Duchy was not wealthy. Even under the reign of my father, Chadomir Gigant Eisenmark, there had been the Northern War, when the northern barbarians — ahem, the northerners — were brought into the fold as vassals.
Had that war ended more recently, we might at least have plenty of veterans with combat experience. But the very thing that brought the Northern War to a close was, in the first place, my father's marriage alliance with my mother. Which means the war is nearly twenty years behind us now.
Let me sum it up, then. Every soldier who fought in the Northern War has retired, their combat experience reset to zero — while the economy and the treasury have yet to recover even to their prewar levels.
Therefore, we would struggle to arm even minimally the peasant levies who would number over twenty thousand once the vassals' forces were counted in — five thousand of them, at the very least. Consider that a single proper suit of armor costs several years of an ordinary farmer's income, and it follows that most of them would be sent to fight with nothing but their bare hands. A few would manage to scrounge together some patched-up quilted gambeson, perhaps — this is their lives on the line, after all.
Frankly speaking, it would be nothing short of marching them off to slaughter.
Ordinary farmers with no proper equipment, no combat experience, small and weak of frame, facing off against the Sergen's savage warriors? Trying to stop the axes of monsters like Volgar with pitchforks and padded cloth?
It would be no different from sending lambs out to face a pack of wolves.