SWORDPOINT DIPLOMACY CH 1

They began encircling the city the next day. By her calculations, they did have enough soldiers to do it, but it was a close thing. The tactic spread her army thinner than she wanted, but there was no way around that. This was one of the largest walled cities on the continent.

The biggest saving grace was that it had no access to the sea for resupplying and movement. Rose wasn't optimistic enough to think that the city had no secret tunnels for resupply. If she was lucky, they'd be too small for the city defenders to take horses through. The stress kept her up at night grinding her teeth. Odds were good that the Castellan had plans to attack the invaders from behind. Even if she didn't, Rose couldn't let go of what her intuition had told her the day that she arrived on the field: she was certain that Prince Marcel was in the castle. He had a mean reputation. He wouldn't be quietly starved out into surrender.

She didn't convey that suspicion to anyone because she couldn't defend it. Tactically, it didn't make much sense. Castellan Yvette LaGown was known to be perfectly capable. She wouldn't have the charge of a border city's defences if she didn't have the confidence of her king. And it would be ridiculous to put your heir in the line of fire of the first volley of a war. If Marcel died, there would be a succession crisis and in-fighting.

Rose tried to ignore that endangering the heir was what her Father was doing by sending both his adult children away. At least his line was secure. If she and Etienne both died, there was still little Esperance back home in the Capital city.

Thoughts of her little sister became a recurring pleasant day dream. When Rose woke up, she remembered that Esperance was probably still sleeping another hour before she would get her breakfast. In the heat of the day, while Rose quietly roasted inside her black armor, she silently guessed that Esperance was studying her numbers, or playing string games with her little friends.

"37 days," Etienne said to her, so quietly that none of the soldiers nearby would be able to hear it. There wasn't much point- every one of them would be counting down the same number.

"I know," Rose answered, just as softly. They needed to take the city in less than 37 days. A soldier was only pressed into service for 40 days. If they didn't succeed in that time, they'd have to wait for troop transfer and for new recruits to be drummed up. There were career soldiers who would sign again for another pay cycle, but most of them would rather be home.

Rose could sympathize with that. She would also prefer to be home.

She and Etienne both took off their head pieces before morning was over, for sheer survival under the punishing sun. A squire of about 14 years followed each of them carrying the damn things.

They split up, talking with various minor nobles and checking in on supplies, on the engineers, on the distribution of beer and bread. When she saw her brother again, Rose had to smirk.

Etienne's expression went flat when he saw the look on her face. "Don't," he sulked.

"Don't what?" She asked innocently. "That looks painful, brother mine. Do you need someone to kiss it better?"

He scowled at her and then winced as his poor pink skin stretched. He had their mother's complexion and he burnt every summer. In contrast, Rose was nearly as dark as the brown eyes the twins shared. She'd never had a visible burn in her life, and she was fully prepared to pretend that she'd never felt the painful tightness of sunburnt skin if it annoyed her twin. She floated around on a smug cloud of genetic superiority until Etienne finally lost his temper and kicked her under the lunch table.

There was a hitch in her voice from pain, but she continued the conversation.

"I'll be there one to stay here," Rose decided. "If you don't mind."

Etienne tore off a mouthful of bread and nodded. "That's fine," he said, muffled by his food. "Do you need the good map?"

"You'll need it more," Rose shook her head no. "I don't want that river flooding over here. I want the engineers to have the topical map on hand."

"They already have a plan," Etienne said mildly. But he didn't disagree.

Doubtless the city already had stores of water and food. But it would just be foolish to let the river keep pouring in, bringing freshwater and fish to the city.

By redirecting it, her army would lose access to where it flowed back out of the city, and that was a shame. But she didn't trust it anyway. There would be no loss for the defenders in poisoning the water on the way out of the city. There was only one Southern village relying on it downriver-most commanders would consider it acceptable collateral damage.

Rose had thought over every tactical angle of the river in excruciating detail.

Poisoning the river on the way in had been one of the first plans that her Father's military advisors had suggested, after all. It would be a lot less labor intensive than digging a huge ditch to redirect the water away onto the plains. Rose hated the thought. She'd much rather that the city leadership saw their supplies run low and surrendered. The idea of poisoning the water made her feel sick to her stomach. Even if it wasn't a cowardly way to kill, it was a terrible thing to do to a city full of non-combatant residents.

Her brother marched off in the afternoon, with a full battalion and a whole lot of shovels. They were doing this quick and dirty- the river was going to be redirected far enough away that it wouldn't come to drown the invaders, and what happened next wasn't her business.

It didn't sit well with Rose. Not for the first time, she looked over a middlubf quality map and wondered which enemy village might get flooded.

"Princess, meeting in ten minutes," Celestin reminded her.

Rose nodded. She straightened her back and checked that everything in the tent was orderly enough to receive visitors. She dismissed her squire. The poor boy wasn't done for the day, because he still needed to help mentor the pages in their daily lessons. It seemed ridiculously confident to her that nobles had decided to send their children along with the army to continue training, but she couldn't deny that it helped everyone feel that the situation was under control.

It was a dark thought, but she thought that her Father would consider the potential losses worth the show of confidence. If she had still been a page, would she be here?

'I still wish I was a page again. I'd rather be studying.'

She hadn't yet figured out how to permanently become 8 years old again, so Rose put on an air of confidence and greeted her guests as they arrived.

At first, she sat back and let Celestin summarize what she already knew- troop numbers, estimated arrivals, reports on enemy movement. Duke Harrod looked as unhappy as she felt about the sightings of movement in the woods off to their left. The treeline was close enough that it wouldn't give much reaction time for her people if a raiding party emerged.

Rose hardened her heart and ordered for patrols to be sent into the woodlands. Either they'd come back with news, or they wouldn't come back. That would be news itself. Grimly, she mentally marked off the numbers of people at her disposal.

'With increased patrols and all the troops redirecting the river, we are spread too thin. We either need to move fast and hope the defenders can't move against us before Etienne returns, or make a recalculation. Should we temporarily pull back from the encirclement?'

She didn't voice the thought. She wouldn't say that and introduce doubt. She'd only say it if she made up her mind and gave it as an order.

"Your lady Aunt sent word," Lord Drepam reported.

"Oh?" Rose gave him her full attention. Why had he heard news before she had?

"Princess Aime estimates that she will leave with troops in 20 days, but the destination is still undecided." Drepam puffed up with his own importance, red nose shining as brightly as Etienne's would be right about now. "She awaits orders from the capital and your assessment of this situation."

"Thank you," Rose said, covering up her unhappiness. "I'll contact her."

'I don't like that someone reported to him before me. That's not proper chain of command. I know he's well-respected but this is supposed to be my operation.'

Drepam hesitated, thought better of whatever he was about to say, and then bowed.

Not much else of note happened. She confirmed the numbers and posting for the evening watch.

Rose went to bed feeling uneasy. She woke up to a draft of cold air and a certainty that someone else was in her tent.