He entered the conference room where the rest of his strategic group met. The leader was the only one in the room.
“Where are the others?” Quint asked.
“I wanted a personal debriefing on your assignment to the Gussellian border. Colonel Sarrefo and Master Pozella thought a less restrictive environment might be better than to present your story to the group.”
“So, everyone wouldn’t get into trouble, sir?” Quint asked.
“That is an element that went into the decision, but Master Pozella said you had a perspective on the battle that might be useful for me.”
Quint thought for a minute and then sat down. “Shall I begin, or do you want to ask me questions?”
“You begin. I want your side of the story. The colonel said there was an official version, but official versions are often edited to remove certain aspects of the report.”
Quint nod. “I may be frank?”
“I encourage it!” the leader said.
Quint gave the leader every bit of information that Sarrefo had received. “I didn’t report my opinion of the strategic aspect of the battle,” Quint said.
“Go ahead. I’d like to hear your views.”
Quint explained his viewpoint on the continued lack of creativity and use of strategy on the Racellian side of the battle.
“There have been two enemy flanking maneuvers in each of the battles I’ve experienced. There were no defenses laid out to counteract those kinds of attacks. Do strategic operations review battles and make recommendations?”
The leader asked Quint some points and explained that the regular army didn’t always respond to strategic operations suggestions.
“Do they ever?” Quint asked. “The army seems to be very predictable in their tactics.”
“That is correct, but the generals traditionally use the wizard corps to fight the wizards in the other army,” the leader said.
“Then we should mix our wizards with the regular units to use magic throughout a battle. I’ve proposed that before.”
“Our group can develop new suggestions, but you can’t initiate the topic. I will have to do that. Be careful how you present your case. Accepting a teenage hubite into the group could be threatened if you become too strident.”
“Message received, sir,” Quint said.
“Return to your desk and return at the mid-morning hour.”
Quint had almost an hour and a half to himself before the group met. He spent the time reading one of the library books on battle histories. The tactics hadn’t changed since the battles described, reaching back four centuries. If everyone on the continent used the same thinking, no wonder the borders had barely changed.
He returned to the conference room and took his seat at the table. The leader walked into the room with an envelope in his hand.
“I just received this a few minutes ago,” the leader said, holding the envelope. “These are new orders for one of our group, a promotion to the military ministry.”
Quint didn’t like the way the leader’s eyes were fixed on him. His new orders had come too quickly.
“Our newest member is the first to leave our group,” the leader said, “but before he goes, perhaps he can describe the recent battle on the Gussellian border.”
Quint stood and gave as neutral a presentation as he could. He left out portents, liquid light, and desertion but talked about magicians fighting magicians and flanking maneuvers.
“Our forces were overrun. Why?”
The discussion began. Quint was careful not to say too much, but he said enough to point out that the Gussellians tried something new, fielding an army three times the size of the Racellian forces and surrounding a feckless opponent.
Talk began to move toward obtaining intelligence on the opponent rather than assuming what tradition dictated. Flanking tactics were never used to such an extent as the Gussellians employed, but in a hostile fight, it seemed the world might be changing tradition.
Quint was encouraged by the ideas thrown out, but the time went quickly, and the meeting ended.
“Was that more to your liking?” the leader said after holding Quint back.
“It was more of an exploration of the problem. The kind of thing that’s done before you work on a solution. Right, sir?”
“That is what we do in strategic operations,” the leader said. “I’m sad to see you go. Now is the time to read this.”
Quint stared at his new orders. He was to be posted to a diplomatic post representing the wizard corps at the Ministry of the Military. Quint had worried about returning to Wizard Corps headquarters, where Amaria’s father was in charge. Still, he was assigned to the Racellian military ministry, a large building next to the Council Palace in the exact center of Bocarre.
He couldn’t help but wonder what kind of punishment this would be. Quint had liked being immersed in strategic operations. The discussion was terrific, but he was now removed from that environment and promoted to senior lieutenant.
A message from Pozella told him to meet in his office after lunch.
“Sarrefo told me about your new assignment. You are being promoted to an even more useless position.”
“At least when I was first here, I was productive,” Quint said. “I was a servant. The strategic operations group tolerated me, and I felt I could contribute, but before I can there is this,” He lifted the envelope with his orders inside.
“You get a pay increase,” Pozella said.
“To spend on what?” Quint asked irritably.
