[ TT ] In this world who really loves you ?

Hilary Flint leaned over the map, his face a mask of quiet calm as he stared down at the carved tokens representing various hosts and clans. 
 
 `` Three more Border Clans, the Tuttles, Barrens, and Hudsons have joined our army late last night. That brings us to nearly four thousand infantry and six hundred cavalry all in told.'' 
 
 Frederick the Elder, leader of the Port Huron contingent grunted uneasily. `` That still leaves us outnumbered three to two in foot soldiers and two to one in cavalry, and most of that are those heavy lancers the fucking knife-ears favor. We ca n't fight them in a straight-up battle.'' 
 
 Flint nodded his head in agreement. `` And that's not even counting the battle-mages the Ursurpers are almost certain to have. We barely have a score of knights of our own, and maybe a company of Elves trained with spears. Captain Rogers, how many rangers have answered the summons?'' 
 
 Captain Robert Rogers was a legend on both sides of the border marches. At the age of sixteen he'd shot a Salamander fire-mage at nearly a kilometer distance. By twenty-five he was leading expeditions of his own, driving deeper into the dead cities and occupied territories than any other ranger before. He was a chieftain in all but name, a dozen villages sworn to his chapter of rangers and nearly three hundred rifles sworn to himself. 
 
 `` Five hundred as of last roll call. Garrison's boys are always slow, what with that precious cannon piece of his. Rangers are n't artillerists. The lad cracks one fort open in an afternoon and thinks it's the be all, end all.'' 
 
 Flint shrugged. `` Like canister,'specially when it's on my side of the field.'' Rogers made a noncommittal noise. 
 
 `` Sure, if it ever arrives. If and when he arrives we should place Garrison over here,'' he said pointing towards a gently sloped hill that nevertheless managed to dominate the battlefield. `` From up on that crest he could hold out against an entire regiment of Fae. Put the Grand Harbor levies to his right and Lieutenant Vernor's Militiamen on the left and it'd take a whole brigade to budge them.'' 
 
 The hour stretched on, and the various officers argued and debated the placement of the various units, taking into mind old grudges and recent oaths of brotherhood. The Alpena Chapter would n't fight next to the Mackinaws while the Nortons and Greaves insisted on standing with one another; having pledged their arms in mutual support and sealed it with a betrothal. Faith Alathir, the one for who they were about to fight and most likely die for, frowned. Slowly, as if afraid to break the delicate discussions she spoke, her clear voice rising through the noise of veteran rangers and hardened militia officers. 
 
 `` Excuse me. Forgiveness for interrupting, but I notice you've yet to mention where our cavalry will be placed.'' 
 
 `` The Reivers will remain hidden in the woods, waiting for us to lure the enemy into the trap.'' Flint explained. `` With Garrison's cannon as the hinge and Captain Suttler's light infantry as the door handle, we'll string out the Ursurpers' forces thin enough that our squadrons will run right through them and trample them into the ground.'' 
 
 `` Many men will die soon, men who owe me nothing.'' 
 
 Flint inclined his head, conceding her point. `` If we lose this, we lose everything. Your cousin will send the rest of his army North and put everything to the torch. Our families he will sell as slaves in the south. This is a desperate gamble that we can not afford to lose. But if we win, you owe us everything. If we managed to put you on the throne, that guarantees peace for us and your people. The armies of the Fae have held a sword above our heads for a hundred years. It's high time we shatter it over their heads.'' 
 
 
 

