Chapter 11: Rules of Engagement
General Aethilis sat in his command tent, flipping through the pages of Captain Dirdath's report. The dunmer elf stood stiffly in front of him, hands folded neatly behind his back, his face devoid of expression. Aethilis glanced up at him over the top of the papers in his hand.
"Some of the information you gleaned from this liberated slave, Manewyn, makes for quite the interesting read," he said before idly tossing the report on his desk and leaning back in his chair. "Although strategically speaking, it is mostly irrelevant."
"I respectfully disagree, general," Dirdath said professionally, "Long term, I believe his presence in our ranks and the information he provides will prove valuable in ways we cannot yet predict. However humble his origins, he is for the moment, rather indispensable." Aethilis harrumphed and his fingers made a pyramid in front of his face as he nodded for Dirdath to continue. "It is my understanding," Dirdath began slowly, "That after we subdue this kingdom, it is to be made a province of the empire, with full citizenship granted to its subjects?"
"That is true," Aethilis acknowledged.
"And our strategy includes securing local allies whenever and wherever we can."
"Yes," said Aethilis, his brow furrowing.
"Then surely the general can see the benefit of already having one such local ally. One who, incredibly, speaks our own merish dialect, as well as the common tongue of these lands? We cannot hope to interact with these people, forge new relationships, barter or negotiate while there remains the barrier of language between us."
"There are no doubt other elven kin in these lands who will serve just as well," Aethilis countered.
"Indeed," agreed Dirdath, "But they are not here, Manewyn is. It would be foolish to assume these elven clans will give us their allegiance based solely on our shared blood. How long did the mer of Tamriel fight amongst ourselves, until the Dragonborn, praise his name, united us all in common cause? Courting the native elves will prove much easier if it is one of their own telling our stories." Aethilis tapped his fingers on his arm rest, rolling Dirdath's words over in his mind. The young captain had a point. And there were other reasons to keep Manewyn close at hand. Discovering the elves of Thedas shared a common language with those of Tamriel was no small thing. The implications were staggering. Aethilis had dutifully forwarded Dirdath's report to the Forerunner, a response had come almost immediately expressing the keen interest of the Blades. If the Blades were interested in Manewyn, then so was the Emperor.
"Your point is taken, captain," Aethilis finally said. "But you know our laws. He is not a prisoner of war and he has broken no law of the Empire. He is free to leave, we cannot constrain him."
"He has expressed a desire to stay," Dirdath said. Aethilis' eyebrows arched in surprise.
"Has he now?" Dirdath shrugged.
"He has been a slave for half his life, he does not know where to find his clan, or if any are still alive and free. He has nothing, and nowhere to go. What is more, he has made a few fast friends among my troops, probably the only friends he's had in years. Of course, I am more than willing to induct him into my regiment and look out for him. Should the high command be in need of us, you need only send word." Aethilis smiled thinly at Dirdath's use of the word 'us' and slowly nodded his head.
"Very well, Dirdath," he said slowly, "I will attach your regiment to my division and you will report directly to me until further notice. Manewyn is your responsibility. Should we have need of you, we will send word. You are dismissed." Dirdath saluted smartly and turned on his heel to leave. Aethilis allowed himself a grim smile at the captain's back. Here was a man, a fairly low ranking officer, who had just made himself a valuable asset to the campaign. And he had done so using logical and well-thought arguments. Clearly, Dirdath did not intend to remain a mere captain his entire career. "Captain Dirdath," Aethilis called as the man reached the tent flap. Dirdath paused and looked over his shoulder. "Your ambition has been noted." The dark elf stood up a little straighter, turned to face Aethilis, and bowed slightly before backing out of the tent. He knew what those words meant. Aethilis would be watching him. Closely.
Aethilis took advantage of the rare moment of solitude, stretched his long arms over his head and stepped outside his tent, savoring the cool night air and admiring the imperial encampment that spread before him. Tents stood in straight rows along a perfect geometrical grid. Mess halls, blacksmiths, stables, armorers, even merchants. The camp had everything, including a twelve foot wooden palisade complete with multiple gates and firing platforms. The whole thing went up in less than an hour after a full day's march, and it would come down before dawn the next day just as quickly, to be stored and moved to the army's next location. The camp was a microcosm of the Empire itself: Order, unity, efficiency.
But tomorrow night they would not need the entire camp, tomorrow night they would spend in Denerim. The city lay only a few hours' march to the southwest. They would arrive in the morning, and swiftly crush any resistance. For the Empire, for glory, for the Dragonborn.
One by one, Aethilis' staff officers began arriving, along with his counterpart from the southern army, General Sulla. Sulla was a native of Cyrodiil, and like Aethilis had served from the ranks on up. He was short and stocky, but built of solid muscle. He had a gruff manner and unlike Aethilis, was not gifted with the virtue of tact. Still, there was no denying his keen mind and fighting spirit. If not exactly friends, the two men respected each other and worked well together. Sulla's army was camped a few miles away, and in the morning they would meet before the gates of Denerim and encircle the city.
The officers partook of refreshments and made small talk until the tent flap swept open and in strode Viceroy A'zzmar, flanked by several Blades officers. All conversation immediately ceased as Aethilis and Sulla, along with their officers, bowed deeply before the most powerful woman in the Empire. Her feline eyes took them all in coolly as she acknowledged their sign of respect with a nod. A'zzmar made directly for the table on which a map was spread, and the generals and their staffs gathered around her.
"We have already failed one of our objectives," she said without preamble, "We have not achieved total surprise. An army awaits us at Denerim." The announcement was met with murmuring by the assembled officers as Aethilis and Sulla exchanged uneasy glances.
"How is that possible?" Sulla asked, "We encountered only a handful of ships on our approach, and all those were destroyed or captured."
"It is unlikely that they would have had time to muster their forces after we landed," added Aethilis, "Even if their scouts reported our movements."
"The 'how' will be uncovered and dealt with in due course," A'zzmar said with a wave of her hand, "Your orders remain the same: You will take Denerim."
"How large is this army we are to face?" asked Sulla.
"Thirteen hundred," said A'zzmar, "More if local militia has joined their ranks." Sulla scoffed and chuckled.
"Still a mere pittance," he said disdainfully. A'zzmar fixed him with a stare and her whiskers twitched.
"Do not underestimate them," she said sternly, "A force half that size could hold those walls against a superior force. The advantage still lies with us, but be wary. If our advance stalls at the very first opposition, it would be most…unpleasant."
"Understood, Madame Viceroy," Sulla said with a slight bow.
"Understand this also," A'zzmar said, taking in the crowded tent with her stare. "Denerim is to be taken swiftly and as intact as possible. There will be no siege, no drawn out house-to-house fighting. There will be a swift and decisive attack, and you will have all the power of the Emperor's army at your disposal. Tales of how one of the great cities of this continent was taken so easily will spread, and our enemies will fear us long before they see our banners approaching their own cities. This is to be a message to all of Thedas that the new order has arrived." The officers murmured their assent, but Aethilis and Sulla exchanged puzzled glances.
"Could the Viceroy clarify," Aethilis said slowly, "How exactly we are to assault this fortified city and keep it 'intact' at the same time?" A'zzmar's eyes narrowed and her tail flicked in agitation at the question.
"The walls and the gates must be breached," she said tersely, "But you are to take every precaution to do as little damage to the city proper as possible. This is to be our de-facto capital for the foreseeable future, it must continue to function, and its citizens must be brought into the Empire's fold. They are much more apt to accept our control if their houses are not rubble and their loved ones are not lying dead in the street. Before the assault tomorrow, I want every man and woman in this army to know that they are to engage only armed resisters, and leave the civilians be. Furthermore, any soldier caught looting, raping, or generally terrorizing the population will be executed, without exception. Is that understood?" Aethilis looked around the gathering and nodded. The imperial army would carry out their orders to the letter. "There is one more thing," A'zzmar added, "Before the assault begins, the King of Ferelden is to be offered very generous terms of surrender. Publicly, before the walls of his city, so that his entire army will hear it." Confused glances and mutterings darted around the tent. Sulla stroked the stubble of his beard and shook his head.
"From what I understand, this king of theirs is a renowned warrior and leader of men. A hero, not just in his own kingdom, but throughout the whole continent. He will not accept the terms, however generous."
"Of course he won't," she replied with a throaty chuckle, "That is not the point. This offer, like your attack, are a message. A message to any that would oppose us that they will be spared and their authority left intact, if they only kneel. These people will understand that the Empire will have order and will bring peace with either an open hand or a sword. The choice will be theirs, and the Emperor believes, as do I, many of these so-called brave warriors will bend the knee when faced with the alternative of fire from the sky." Sulla grunted his agreement, and many of the other officers nodded in understanding.
"Your point is taken, Madame Viceroy," Sulla stated, "But how will we deliver these terms of surrender for all to hear if we do not speak their language?" A'zzmar offered another chuckle that sounded for all the world like a growl, and she fixed Aethilis with her strange khajit eyes.
"I do believe general Aethilis has at his disposal a rather intriguing solution to that conundrum, is that not so, general?" Aethilis felt a lump rise in his throat, but he kept his composure and offered a thin-lipped smile.
"I do indeed, Madame Viceroy."