He paused, considering his next words.
“We will take no prisoners,” he said simply. Heads all around the tent perked up at that.
“We don’t have the resources to feed them, for one thing,” he informed the men. “Second, they aren’t interested in taking any prisoners, either. This is war to the knife, gentlemen. With the blade in to the hilt and twisted. I want the Nor soldiers facing us to know that only death is waiting for them from here on out. The only other option is to leave our soil.”
For a second there was nothing. Parno waited, reminding himself that these men weren’t Black Sheep. They were however veteran soldiers now. They had been engaged in a fighting withdrawal for weeks. He was offering them a chance to hit back and do it hard. Do it in a way that mattered.
Slowly, eyes hardening, the men nodded both their understanding, and their agreement.
“No prisoners,” a large, beefy man in the front row agreed. “No mercy.”
“None,” Parno nodded. “I will be with you tomorrow gentlemen, along with what’s left of my men from the battle of the Gap. We will carry the Black Flag from now on. There will be no mercy, no quarter of any kind for our invaders. If you cannot agree to that, I truly do understand and won’t hold it against you. But you will not participate in tomorrow’s attack, either.”
“Atten-hut!” Davies bellowed and the men in the tent shot to their feet.
“Is there a man here that argues with the orders?” he demanded in a voice that made Parno think of Darvo Nidiad.
“ No Sir !” over a dozen voices thundered together.
“Then say it with me!” Davies ordered. “No Mercy!”
“ No Mercy !”
“No Quarter!” Davies continued.
“ No Quarter !”
“No Prisoners!” Davies concluded.
“ No Prisoners, Sir !”
Parno nodded, more than satisfied.
“Very well, gentlemen. Your orders are as simple as I can make them. Keep your formations together, keep your men in line. I don’t want to leave a single man behind if we can help it. Not one. Listen for bugle orders, and be especially alert for the withdrawal horn. We will return to our line of demarcation, and from there to our own lines. Are there any questions?”
“Sir?” the beefy man in front called.
“Yes?” Parno looked at him. “General. . . ?”
“Brigadier Buford Beaumont, sir!” the man replied. “6 th Division, 2 nd Brigade, sir!”
“Your question, General Beaumont?” Parno asked, fighting a smile.
“If we encounter General Officers, are we to attempt their capture, sir?” Beaumont asked. “For interrogation purposes?”
“No,” Parno shook his head. “Is that a problem?”
“Not in the least, sir!” Beaumont grinned wickedly. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“Understood,” Parno did smile, then. “Anything else?” No one spoke.
“Very well, gentlemen. Report to you posts. Men ready an hour before dawn. That’s all.”
The men all saluted, filing out of the tent on their way back to their respective commands. Several of them looked to Parno on the way out, nodding their approval. He returned the nod passively, allowing nothing to show on his face.
Once the last man had departed and he was sure they were away from the command tent, Parno let out a long, low breath and almost collapsed into a camp chair.
“Are you all right, milord?” Enri asked, frowning.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever addressed a collection of officers like that,” Parno admitted, slightly shame-faced. “I wasn’t sure how I’d do.”
“How you’d do?” Davies repeated, his own face still flushed from the energy Parno had unleashed in the departed commanders. “My God, sir, I. . .I have never in my career seen anything like it!”
“That bad?” Parno frowned.
“Bad?” Davies echoed again. “No milord, it was incredible ! Did you see them? Those men walked in here beaten. We’re outnumbered, facing better soldiers than we’ve ever faced
“We will take no prisoners,” he said simply. Heads all around the tent perked up at that.
“We don’t have the resources to feed them, for one thing,” he informed the men. “Second, they aren’t interested in taking any prisoners, either. This is war to the knife, gentlemen. With the blade in to the hilt and twisted. I want the Nor soldiers facing us to know that only death is waiting for them from here on out. The only other option is to leave our soil.”
For a second there was nothing. Parno waited, reminding himself that these men weren’t Black Sheep. They were however veteran soldiers now. They had been engaged in a fighting withdrawal for weeks. He was offering them a chance to hit back and do it hard. Do it in a way that mattered.
Slowly, eyes hardening, the men nodded both their understanding, and their agreement.
“No prisoners,” a large, beefy man in the front row agreed. “No mercy.”
“None,” Parno nodded. “I will be with you tomorrow gentlemen, along with what’s left of my men from the battle of the Gap. We will carry the Black Flag from now on. There will be no mercy, no quarter of any kind for our invaders. If you cannot agree to that, I truly do understand and won’t hold it against you. But you will not participate in tomorrow’s attack, either.”
“Atten-hut!” Davies bellowed and the men in the tent shot to their feet.
“Is there a man here that argues with the orders?” he demanded in a voice that made Parno think of Darvo Nidiad.
“ No Sir !” over a dozen voices thundered together.
“Then say it with me!” Davies ordered. “No Mercy!”
“ No Mercy !”
“No Quarter!” Davies continued.
“ No Quarter !”
“No Prisoners!” Davies concluded.
“ No Prisoners, Sir !”
Parno nodded, more than satisfied.
“Very well, gentlemen. Your orders are as simple as I can make them. Keep your formations together, keep your men in line. I don’t want to leave a single man behind if we can help it. Not one. Listen for bugle orders, and be especially alert for the withdrawal horn. We will return to our line of demarcation, and from there to our own lines. Are there any questions?”
“Sir?” the beefy man in front called.
“Yes?” Parno looked at him. “General. . . ?”
“Brigadier Buford Beaumont, sir!” the man replied. “6 th Division, 2 nd Brigade, sir!”
“Your question, General Beaumont?” Parno asked, fighting a smile.
“If we encounter General Officers, are we to attempt their capture, sir?” Beaumont asked. “For interrogation purposes?”
“No,” Parno shook his head. “Is that a problem?”
“Not in the least, sir!” Beaumont grinned wickedly. “Just wanted to make sure.”
“Understood,” Parno did smile, then. “Anything else?” No one spoke.
“Very well, gentlemen. Report to you posts. Men ready an hour before dawn. That’s all.”
The men all saluted, filing out of the tent on their way back to their respective commands. Several of them looked to Parno on the way out, nodding their approval. He returned the nod passively, allowing nothing to show on his face.
Once the last man had departed and he was sure they were away from the command tent, Parno let out a long, low breath and almost collapsed into a camp chair.
“Are you all right, milord?” Enri asked, frowning.
“That’s the first time I’ve ever addressed a collection of officers like that,” Parno admitted, slightly shame-faced. “I wasn’t sure how I’d do.”
“How you’d do?” Davies repeated, his own face still flushed from the energy Parno had unleashed in the departed commanders. “My God, sir, I. . .I have never in my career seen anything like it!”
“That bad?” Parno frowned.
“Bad?” Davies echoed again. “No milord, it was incredible ! Did you see them? Those men walked in here beaten. We’re outnumbered, facing better soldiers than we’ve ever faced
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