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“Twen'y-five. Twenty-five Empire agents - at least - are holed up in town.”
Major Walsh considered the speck on the map just below the grimy finger jabbing accusatorily, “And you are certain, Lieutenant Strickland, that they plan to stay? Many of the Empires forces are being recalled over concerns of insurrection in the south.”
“Not this outfit,” they growled, “the barkeep at the Bird in 'And says ey've a'ready opened a tab there. An' they don’t seem over inclined to close it out.”
“Ha. Because Empire soldiers always pay their debts on time.” Scoffed the woman to their right, flipping her braid back over her shoulders.
"This meeting is not intended to be an opportunity to cast aspersions as to the character of the enemy Lieutenant Orsi.
"The Lieutenant raises an excellent point, however, is this evidence proof enough that this platoon intends to remain in Fairfield indeterminately?"
"Exactly my point! Do you have any actual evidence of a threat, Second Lieutenant?" she demanded, rolling her eyes at their rank.
Their eyes narrowed and they began, haltingly: "I overheard... Ey've been talkin' about... Did yeh see the number of 'orses they brought? Two by my count, one for each Major in command. An' we all know Empire soldiers canny be expected to walk, if the platoon intended to remain mobile it'd be better supplied for a land siege. Mark my words, they aren' leavin' any time soon."
The Major stroked their chin as they considered the implications of Strickland's observations. "Should this be the case, and it appears as though it is, we would need to come to a consensus on a potential course of action without delay."
“We could ambush 'em. Take out as many as we can in the night an'-“
“And what?? Hope that the rest leave quietly?? Last time I checked there were five of us and at least two dozen of them”
“The Lieutenant is right. If we attack - even with the advantage of stealth on our side - the risk to our own forces is too high. Should we succeed in dispatching with even some of them, reinforcements would simply be brought in to take their place. Such a maneuver would only serve to arise suspicion and undo the months of work we have done in clearing this valley. Perhaps if we-"
“The roads to Fairfield are shitty, are they not?”
A collective look of confusion passed over the head of the Captain who had finally spoken up, as he leaned over the map and ran his fingers lightly across the surface.
“Lochlain, I fail to see how that’s relevant.”
“Well... you have already discussed the potential dangers of a direct attack. We do not have the numbers for it and when - not if - we fail to take out all of them it’ll rain down retribution on our heads. And that does not sound overly fun to me, in particular.”
He paused, still staring at the yellowed paper as though he could see through it, “But a band of that size must require quite a sizeable supply chain to maintain it. And if somethin' were to... disrupt that chain, they may leave of their own accord.”
“Captain, setting up a blockade exclusively for Empire supply carts would be nearly impossible to maintain long enough to make a difference. The soldiers would simply purchase their goods in town like anyone else.”
“I never specified that the blockade would stop only Empire vehicles.”
Silence drew the air from the room.
“Captain, if you are suggesting that we-"
“I am suggesting that we free this town through the most effective means at our disposal. We all know that if this comes to a fight we’ll lose. And then what? These people keep livin' with soldiers breathin' down their necks for the rest of their lives? I am proposing a short-term struggle for a long-term reward.”
"Eliza just 'ad a baby," whispered Lieutenant Strickland, a creeping panic taking the edge off their anger.
"Exactly. And would you and Eliza want your child growin' up in a town half populated by soldiers of an Empire and a Crown you do not recognize? This is our chance to push the last remaining symbols of oppression out of our home. You were just proposin' an ambush!"
"I proposed fightn' soldiers-"
"In their beds."
"Soldiers who volunteered an' trained for combat but this? Puttin' the entire town at risk? I can't. Orsi back me up on this."
"Captain," she reached out toward him hesitantly, "Eilis, what happens if they don't leave. How long could we maintain this before innocent people get hurt?"
"Innocent people are already gettin' hurt. That's what Ash was so hesitant to tell y'all before. They overheard the officers discussin' plans to 'move out of this miserable hovel' and 'take care of the old man first.' And yesterday I saw the soldiers starin' at Old Newman and his homestead like wolves considerin' how best to dismantle a flock of sheep. That's why they know this platoon intends to stay here as long as they can get away with."
Orsi gasped. The rest of the assembly trained their eyes on the map as she shoved her chair back and ran out the door. They listened for a long moment to her footsteps receding as she bolted down the hill to warn her grandfather of the platoon's designs on his home.
Finally, the Major broke the silence, "The Captain is right."
"Major we can't-"
"I am no longer seeking council Second Lieutenant."
They bowed their head and glared at the table, bracing their hands on the edge as though they were preparing to flip it.
"Tomorrow we will enact Captain Lochlain's plan. Lieutenants Orsi and Strickland will cover the southwest road from the bridge. Private Hawkins and I will monitor the one to the southeast. And Captain, you will take the road to the north from just south of Whitfield. Is this clear?"
They took the uneasy silence as collective assent and offered a clipped: "Dismissed."
Lieutenant Strickland immediately threw the door open and ran home to warn their wife to make a trip to the market tomorrow. The Major sighed and ran a hand over their face as they slumped into a chair. They leveled a gaze on Eilis, the thousand-yard stare spoke of hundreds of difficult decisions weighing down their shoulders.
"Captain, this had better work. But I pray, for your sake, that it does not work as well as you fear."
Eilis stepped outside and shivered. The Private guarding the door, a girl who swore to be over 17 when she enlisted but if she was older than 15 Eilis would eat his hat, nearly tripped over the hem of her enlisted-man coat in her rush to salute.
"At ease," he mumbled uncomfortably as he shuffled away to study the faint glow of Fairfield in the distance, turning up the collar on his dappled sealskin coat against the chill.