"Lord Daniel... there
are
no peon children."
I was probably too shocked to answer. And if you're thinking that I'm a dumb ass because I hadn't figured it out... well, then, I'm a dumb ass.
- "They're sterile?"
- "Yes."
From the way she lowered her eyes, and turned her head, I suspected that Lady Deondra had just told a fib. She wasn't a very good liar.
- "And they don't age? Is that why there are no elderly people? Peons, I mean."
I'd obviously confused her even more by mixing up people and peons; it was a distinction that the Hadyks had grown up with, so it had to be entirely natural for them. She was plainly uncomfortable with this line of questions, though. Something about the difference between the two didn't sit well with Deondra.
- "No, Lord. They can die in battle, or by accident, or misadventure... but they do not age as we do."
Misadventure? What a curious word. But if peons didn't reproduce, or age... if they could be conjured out of nothing by the Touchstone, was it so surprising that the Hadyks didn't think of them as people?
I glanced over at Jashi, sitting her horse with practiced ease. What would she say about these things? It wasn't the time to ask her, though. I'd already upset Deondra enough.
- "Forgive my questions, Lady." I said. "There are so many things about your homeland that are completely new to me."
- "You do not have peons, in your own realm?"
That's right. Deondra was the only Hadyk I'd met who'd shown an interest in where I was from, or what it was like there. Did we have peons? Unfortunately, I think we do.
- "Not the same as here."
Neither of us was particularly comfortable with this conversation. I let it lapse as we continued our circuit of the walls. When we reached the main gate again, I let her off the hook, returning to military questions.
- "Can the gate be breached with a battering ram?" I asked.
- "It's possible, of course." she said, happier to be back on safer ground. "But the defenders can buttress the gate, or block the gateway with wood or stone. They will also station their archers there, to take a heavy toll of the troops carrying the ram."
I asked about covers for the ram, mantlets and so on. She wasn't familiar with them, but suggested that shields could be held overhead. I knew that the defenders could counter that easily. In real life, the use of hot oil was extremely rare; it just wasn't practical. Nor was fire used all that often. The simplest solution, of course, was simply to drop a heavy rock or block of stone on their heads.
The attackers generally relied on ladders, assaulting as many parts of the wall as they could. Defenders had to concentrate on the gate; if it was lost, and opened, the enemy could flood more troops into the city. Deondra also explained that heavy infantry on the walls were difficult to dislodge, because of their shields and armour, whereas the light infantry were much more vulnerable.
We rode back into the castle. I managed to dismount by myself, mainly because my horse was so calm and steady. That thought reminded me of what I'd wanted to do yesterday.
- "May I see the stables?" I asked Deondra. She was no Rona, or maybe she just couldn't think of a good reason quickly enough to say no. She acquiesced to my request.
I wasn't prepared for what I saw.
Back home, I had a friend who lived in a building with underground parking and individual garages beneath each unit. Derek parked his beat-up car in the visitor's parking, so that the inside of his garage remained in pristine condition. He could barely tell a hammer from a saw, so his garage wasn't used as a workshop, either. It was so darn clean that you could practically have eaten off the floor.
The stables of Dahlia were cleaner.
There were stalls for the horses, and a squad of peons ready to lead them out, or to clean up the dirt they tracked in on their hooves. But there was no straw. No fodder. No feed-troughs or buckets. I saw saddles, bridles and other tack, but no pitchforks, and no shovels. They had brooms, mops, and brushes.
How could that be?
That was when I learned that horses in the Decapolis didn't eat, and didn't defecate. No shit. No horseshit, to be more precise. They didn't drink, and they didn't sweat. The grooms and stable hands didn't rub down the horses, or curry them. Their manes and tails might be brushed if the rider was a Hadyk who wanted his or her mount to look good, but that was the extent of it.
I asked for a brush. Deondra didn't object, but none of the peons moved. Maybe they hadn't been told to accept orders - or requests - from me. So I just picked one up.
And started brushing my horse down.
- "Lord?" said Deondra. "May I ask - what are you doing?"
I smiled at her as I worked. "Thanking my horse for carrying me around the city. Not an easy task, as I'm sure you can see."
She looked shocked. Why would I bother thanking (or caring about) a horse that didn't eat, drink, sweat, or shit? Might as well thank your clothes, your chair, or the cup that you drank from. But I wasn't doing it for her benefit.
The horse was looking at me. I couldn't read the expression in its eyes. In fact, if you asked me, it seemed to be expressionless. In a way, though, I was just exploring the limits.
But I'd mainly done it for the rest of my audience: Captain Jashi, a few of the cavalry troopers, and the peons who worked in the stables. They had to be wondering what I was doing.
Well, I was gaming. I was hoping that they would come to the only conclusion that made sense: if I cared about my horse, then wouldn't I also care about the soldiers and peons?
See, every game - computer wargame, that is - has hidden or obscure algorithms that determine the outcome of battles. Units have combat values, or scores, if you like. These values are multiplied by the number of troops in the unit, or army. The side with the highest score
should
win, but there are multiple other factors that can come into play. There's random chance, of course, like a dice roll. But the game can also take into account terrain, leadership, fatigue, the number of times this unit has already been in combat, the proximity of other friendly troops... the possibilities are numerous. But most games consider things like morale.
In real-life, soldiers facing combat for the first time may begin with high morale. That morale can be quickly worn down, though: casualties, stress, uncertainty, fatigue, or the presence of enemy troops on their flank or in their rear can shake their confidence. Poor leadership doesn't help, either. Veteran troops should remain steady longer.
But Deondra had given me the distinct impression that all of the peons - including those fighting for our enemies - were much the same when it came to fighting ability. Combat value, if you prefer. And if the other families treated their peons as the Hadyks appeared to, then I could expect all of the soldiers on both sides to be evenly matched.
But what if I could raise the morale of our forces by simple gestures like this? What if it gave us an edge, however slight? It wasn't costing me anything. Some games, including DotR, had random events that allowed me to role-play just a little. I would be presented with options, like the Summer Fair; spend money (of which a player never had enough) to increase my popularity with the common people, or save the cash. Personal combat was another choice; I could take a risk in battle, which might lead to a wound or even my death, or I could defeat a foe and win renown with my army.
Yeah, brushing a horse may not sound like much. It was worth a shot, though.
At that moment, one of the castle servants came into the stable. If I wasn't mistaken, she had helped to serve us dinner yesterday. She coughed to draw attention to herself.
