Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [30]
“One’s not enough. He’ll need more next year.”
“He’ll have yours,” the king said.
“Yes,” Dorrin said, without enthusiasm. Her Phelani cohort had been invaluable so far; losing them would make her rule harder.
“When are they going back?” the king asked. Dorrin had the uncomfortable feeling he knew how reluctant she was to let them go.
“I’m not sure,” Dorrin said. “I will need to talk to Arcolin—and to Selfer, their captain now.”
“You know he’s coming to Autumn Court. I expect you, too.”
“Of course, Sir King.”
“Now—do you have a better idea what resources we have and what we might need?”
“By the list of services owed the Crown, you should be able to raise three thousand troops from your nobles. You have no need for that many—which is convenient, since I doubt you could field more than a thousand in any reasonable time.”
“A thousand …”
“In another two tendays, another thousand. Eventually you would have them all, but it might be a half-year before they were sufficiently trained to be of much use.”
“My lords—”
“Are loyal, Sir King, but in a time of peace few prepare well for war. And consider—as a duke, I’m supposed to provide four hundred myself and have two hundred in regular training. Right now I can’t. Almost all who would have been my troops were killed or wounded in my uncle’s treasonous attack on Kieri Phelan last winter. I was hoping to hire two cohorts—half my requirements—from whoever took over Kieri’s domain. But if Arcolin needs them, I’ll have to look elsewhere. What you do have, that your present planning does not consider, is the direct contribution of trained troops from the Fellowship.”
The king frowned. “But most of our troops are Girdish—aren’t they?”
“That’s part of the problem, Sir King. Most of this realm is Girdish, so adults are already enrolled in granges and bartons, where they train as foot soldiers using basic weapons. Your lords are supposed to train them as well, in units related to the size of their domains, but that means more time taken from whatever work their people do. It’s very easy to think—especially for those who have never seen war—that their people get enough training through the Fellowship. But Girdsmen in the grange system are under command of Marshals, not their feudal lords, and they have little time to train in groups—five or six granges together—with the weapons they’d be using against well-armed foreign troops.”
“What do you recommend?”
“A major change in how your defenses are organized, based on Girdish-trained troops—it will require integrating grange and feudal training, with the possibility that yeomen would be commanded in the field by their lords, not by Marshals. I’m not sure how it would work, but an agreement with the granges would give you access to many more troops—and better-trained troops—than you presently have.”
“Would you have to convince every Marshal?”
“Not if I can convince the Marshal-General. She’s not Tsaian, of course, and she’s not sworn fealty to you, but she might work with you on this. You’re Girdish, after all. Your family has long supported the Fellowship here.”
Duke Marrakai stopped Dorrin on her way out of the palace that same day. He looked perfectly healthy now, as if he’d never had an injury. “I’m wondering whether you’ve considered taking squires,” he said. “I know other peers are planning to propose their sons to you, but I exercised a little persuasion so I could be the first to ask. I have a situation, you see.”
“A situation?”
“Well, perhaps you noticed that although there are girls in training to become Knights of the Bells, you never see them as anyone’s squire. There’s a feeling that girls of that age should be home with their families. They can train with the local grange, or even here for knighthood, but they’re just not chosen as squires. They need a woman’s guidance, is one thing people say. The girls don’t much like it,