Res Publica Christiana - 7. Latrones

Frances Howard had known that this was unlike any challenge she'd ever faced. While she had received basic training in firearms and hand-to-hand combat from various individuals, including members of Duke Eli's bodyguards, it could not prepare her for this next stage. She found herself at the Training Base Seahawk on the Lizard Peninsula of Cornwall, England, where Duke Eli's Army and Navy trained to become the new model armed forces of England. She promised herself that she would succeed in her training for Duke Eli, her guardian and inspiration. Yet, she had no idea what she was supposed to do at this military base or how she was supposed to do it. She felt like an idiot when she measured herself against someone like her friend, Francis Drake, who was a gifted tactician and loyal to the duke, albeit slightly avaricious when he could get away with pilfering a few silvers for a pint or two.

She knew that she wasn't supposed to be thinking so poorly about herself, but it was difficult for her not to. She had just been told to get on the wagon that would take her and her fellow recruits to their training ground. That was all they had been told. It was all she knew, and she didn't even know where the wagon was going to take them. The wagon ran smoother than any carriage or coach she had ever been on, including during her time as the young daughter of the most powerful military commander in England. It made her nervous, but she tried not to show it.

After twenty minutes, the wagon came to a stop. The driver yelled, "Recruits, off the wagon. Move, move, move!"

Frances Howard didn't want to, but she complied. Once her feet were firmly on the ground, the wagon driver said, "Recruits, form a single file line, then fall in."

Once more, Frances followed the instructions of the wagon driver and formed a single-file line with the rest of her fellow recruits.

The driver yelled, "Your goal is simple, build a functioning camp with only what you can find and guard the banner given to your unit against other units. Remember, you are the last group as you are the newest recruits this year, your seniors have a week head start on you and were given most of the camp preparation supplies."

After a few moments, they were all lined up and the wagon drove off. The recruits turned and looked around the forest, confused. It was obvious that there was nothing in the immediate vicinity that would be of use to them. It was also a matter of fact that the only thing the other recruits had that was of value was the banner.

"So, what now?" asked Brandon, a tall 16-year-old brown-haired boy from Devonshire.

"I suppose we start looking for resources," replied Emile, a stocky 17-year-old auburn-haired boy from southern Wales.

"There are none in sight," Cassandra, a 17-year-old raven-haired girl from Northampton, said.

"That may not be the case," replied Frances Howard, who had reached her 17th year of age recently.

"You have an idea?" asked Cassandra.

"It's an idea, but I'm not sure if you guys will want to do it. It's sort of stupid," Frances replied downcast.

"I have a feeling that your idea is better than none, so out with it," Cassandra insisted.

"Okay. Well, we are in the forest, right? So, it would make sense that we should look around for resources. However, they never said that we had to live in the wild or build a camp from nothing. There's a town eleven miles away called Helston from the base, which based on the direction of the wagon is probably even shorter. I think we should get resources from the town," Frances answered.

"Are you serious? Do you want to go shopping in a town? We're not in Hatch Beauchamp Manor, Bristol, or even London, where ladies like you can demand things on the spot. We don't even have any money with us or items to trade," argued Emile.

"What else can we do? We need something to build a camp and it's not like we have the tools and the equipment to build anything useful. The wagon driver didn't give us any direction, except to guard the banner and build a camp."

"I guess, but it's not a very good idea," replied Emile, who saw his other two comrades agreeing with Frances and had to admit defeat on this point.

"Look, it's either we do what she suggested or we go out into the forest and try to find resources, but I don't think we have a good chance of success, especially with the senior units out there, who had gotten more time and resources to set up camps," replied Cassandra.

"Fine. It's not like you guys have any better ideas," replied Emile, frustrated.

"Well, let's go," replied Brandon.

They walked for two hours, heading toward the north based on the direction of the sun and moss on trees. They heard sounds occasionally as they journeyed through the woods, indications that their fellow recruits were nearby or had camps pitched.

"So, who's going to do the talking?" asked Emile, "Since Frances's idea was to go into town and find some stuff, who's going to talk to people and convince them to give us stuff?"

Frances shook her head, "We're going to seek help. If we can't ask them, we will need to steal items from them. I know it was how the Spartans used to train their soldiers, stealing from the locals to survive."

"Stop being so English about this. We're not going to steal stuff! Those people are small-town Cornish folk, who will welcome us if we just speak their language," protested Brandon.

"I do not believe they will even notice if we steal supplies. The Cornish are hardy people, but they're not the brightest lot," replied Cassandra, confidently.

Brandon swiftly retorted, "Cassandra, don't be so dismissive of the Cornish. Folks from Devonshire count ourselves among the Cornish since we share a language."

Sighing, Frances raised her voice to be heard between her bickering comrades, but she couldn't seem to grab their attention with her usual feminine tone, which still had the notes of the aristocratic traditions that she belonged to. As frustration grew, Frances remembered the scene of Duke Eli and his aide Francis Walsingham in the woods. Though Duke Eli was in the submissive position of receiving another man's seed, the duke was still mostly dressed and had given orders to his aide in ways to bring pleasure. In contrast, Francis Walsingham, who usually had a dour expression and favored dark-colored clothing, was completely naked and obedient to the duke. In the body, the duke was far more feminine than masculine with noticeably enlarged breasts, a small frame, a lack of Adam's apple, and the unmistakable second entrance of her gender. Yet, in action, the duke possessed more masculine qualities of command and control, especially when he was with a tall dark-haired man like Francis Walsingham. The memory was etched in Frances' mind, since it showed her that power did not belong to pure physical strength or ability, alone. Like the duke, she was looked down upon by many, including members of her family for being merely a "young lady" rather than a "fine nobleman". Her half-brothers often teased her for being weak and pathetic, while she could only look to her father for protection and love. As her father had died and she now knew that she was only the true blood descendant of his line, she felt like she needed to do more to show her worth. She wanted to be liked by Duke Eli and hold command despite their perceived gender weaknesses.

As such, Frances raised her voice to her three comrades, "Quiet! I am in command, and my orders are the following: Brandon, you are the best speaker of Cornish amongst us. Therefore, you will speak to the people and get them to agree to provide supplies for us. If they cannot provide it, Cassandra, you will lead us to steal it. Emile, you are to guard the banner. We are the last group of recruits, which means our seniors have had more time and resources to set up their camps. We have no allies amongst the elder recruits due to our recent inclusion, so we are the most likely to be targeted, but we are not weak by any means. Between good words, guile, and caution, we can rise above them."

She looked around and was pleased that her companions had stopped talking. "Now, we have a long way to walk. Let's pick up the pace. The sooner we get to the town, the faster we can start our mission."

As they began walking, Brandon came up to Frances, "Thanks for trusting me by talking to the Helston town's people."

Frances laughed, "My friend Francis Drake is also from Devonshire. He went to train at the Duke's naval facilities in Plymouth, do you know of him?"

"Not personally, but I know of the name, my elder brother was part of a bandit gang with him," Brandon answered with a smirk.

Frances nodded, "Good. Then you know best what sort of people come out of Cornwall. If we have to deal with Cornish men and women, then you are the one best suited to talk to them."

They walked until the sun began to set. Finally, the group came upon the town. It was a quaint little place with stone buildings, mostly houses, and a few businesses. There was a tavern, a blacksmith, a store, and a tailor's shop. Brandon directed his comrades towards the tavern, which was still mostly empty, except for one apprentice bartender and the tavern proprietor. The teenage boy understood that the tavern was the public gathering place for small towns like Helston, so ingratiating themselves to the tavern owner would be their best chance to get assistance.

Brandon (nervously greeted the older man, who he assumed was the tavern owner): "Dohajydh, me nevra Brandon. (Hello, I'm Brandon.)"

Alfred, the 42-year-old tavern owner looked up from his task, surprised by the unfamiliar voice. Cameron glanced over as well, curiosity in his young eyes.

Alfred: Dohajydh, Brandon, Yth yw gwell dhodho s'yw genowgh Alfred. Py lel vy dhe dhyskas ti? (Hello, Brandon. You may call me Alfred. What brings you here?)

Brandon: My a grew yn Dyfnaint ha'n breusyon ow hwiw dhe vos dreus a'n sev hag ow honan, Frances, Emile, ha Cassandra. (I grew up in Devonshire, and the four of us, myself, Frances, Emile, and Cassandra, need aid.)

Alfred: Dha fys na yw corfek ha boos usi! (Your presence is welcome here! Tell me more.)

Brandon: Ytho anken hwiw ow honan. Furv survysiow ha prenn gwell - gwell dha fayn hag ow gresyon a-dhia. (Due to circumstances, we need this aid. Wood for building and good tools - better food and fabrics as well.)

Alfred: Gorthugher ny wra nyns eus awen na gas dh'y ji, mes ny vynnav hwi sans. Gwari gans dha vil! (Charity will not put food on tables, but I won't let you starve. You must work with your hands!)

Brandon: Meur ras, Alfred. Byttegyns dh'aga wul. (Thank you, Alfred. We are grateful for your kindness.)

Alfred: Brandon, Frances, Emile, ha Cassandra, hwi a dheuthow hag yw hwath dhe vos kellys yn chi tavernek yma. Ny vynnav hwi sans. Brandon, dhe vos ow leverel yn Cornish, ty a wra oberi y'n tavernek rag an boos ha'n chowser. (Brandon, Frances, Emile, and Cassandra, you are welcome to stay here in the tavern's room. Brandon, as you speak Cornish, you will work in the tavern for food and lodging.)

Brandon: Meur ras, Alfred. (Thank you, Alfred.)

Alfred: Emile, ty a wra oberi yn loor, dhe scovya ha tyller an prenn. (Emile, with your strength, you will work at the blacksmith shop, forging and shaping their wares.)

Brandon began translating the job assignment to his friends.

Emile replied in English: Thank you, sir. With all my might, my skill will not disappoint.

Alfred: Cassandra, ty a wra oberi yn chi stur rag an importysow. (Cassandra, you will work at the town's store for imported tools.)

Cassandra answered: Thank you, Alfred. Dealing with goods, my charm will not fail me.

Alfred: (in Cornish) Frances, ty a wra oberi dhe'n yllar. (Frances, you will work at the tailor shop.)

Frances: Thank you, Alfred. I won't let this kindness be forgotten.

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Thus, the four newest recruits of Duke Eli's Lizard peninsula base in Cornwall began their separate jobs. Unbeknownst to them, Lord Robert Dudley and Titania, a leader of the fair folk, were observing their interactions with much interest.

"So, is your plan a success, Lord Robert Dudley?" asked Titania.

Lord Robert Dudley smirked and answered, "Of course, it is. Eli has approved this plan. These recruits need more than military training, they need immersive real-world experiences as much as basic survival skills. In our era, most civilians have this view that elite soldiers must be rugged survivalists, who live out in the woods and kill wild animals with their bare hands. That's true for certain forces, but what is more important for officer-level soldiers is their ability to interact with their surroundings and learn. A soldier's job is to follow the orders of their commander, but an officer must also think beyond those orders and find ways to make the best out of whatever situation they face."

"I see your and Eli's point, but why have you involved me in this "war game" as you call it? My ability is merely to detect truth and fiction with individuals," Titania asked.

"That's exactly why. Your ability will allow us to gauge the honesty and trustworthiness of these recruits. If one is lying, or hiding something, then we will be able to discover their true intentions and determine if they are worthy to join Eli's officer service. The psychology of recruits for commander roles is also important as well," Robert slyly answered as he watched the newest recruits, especially Eli's ward, Frances Howard.

"It seems to me that you have taken a personal interest in the young girl, Frances Howard. Your eyes seem to follow her wherever she goes," Titania said.

Robert shook his head and laughed, "Eli is a bit of a softy with her, and I am just evaluating the competition. Frances is a good girl and has the right background to be a decent soldier, but her hesitation has held her back. However, she has the right potential to be an officer candidate, though the training is going to be rough on her if she is to survive."

"And you want her to succeed, is that right?" Titania asked with her brows raised, suspiciously.

Robert Dudley smiled and answered, "Of course. I always support the best and brightest in my partner's service, and Frances is definitely that. I know she wants to prove herself, but she needs an opportunity and a push in the right direction. Her idea of heading to this town and relying on Brandon are good signs of her ability. Leaders do not need to do everything themselves, just like Eli and I rely on your people for expertise and abilities in addition to ours."

Titania nodded in acceptance, "Very well. I shall continue to monitor the recruits and help in your endeavors, but I warn you. If this turns into a repeat of your and Eli's first "immersive training" in the woods alone, it could be troublesome. Youths can be exuberant, between injuries and uninhibited sexual advances, it was a wonder that several officers emerged."

"Well, that is a possibility, but that was when the training was meant for only the male gender and was more like a rite of passage," Robert replied with a chuckle, "Ladies have the right to prove themselves, too. Those who remain in the woods are consolidating and aligning with each other after their banners were captured. We are going to let the recruits do their thing and watch. They can do whatever they want in a wider vicinity. now with Cornish assistance to our war game."

"Indeed," Titania said. She then changed her expression from a pleasant smile to a serious frown, "However, remember Lord Robert Dudley, there are limits to how much human beings can endure, both physically and mentally. You and Eli will be the judge of these recruits and their potential, but I and my people will be the ones to determine their actual health."

Robert nodded, "Fair enough, you and Cordelia have the final word to recall anyone for medical reasons after all."

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Frances felt nervous about being at the tailor shop, which was the least glamorous job in her mind. Her friends, Brandon, Cassandra, and Emile were assigned jobs in a manner that they would excel, but not her. She felt a bit frustrated by this, as it seemed her gender was the deciding factor, just like Cassandra's feminine appearance made her ideal to work in a shop. The other recruits have hesitated to send her on a difficult job as well. However, she had a duty and an obligation to the duke and to her country. If fabric work was needed, then she would do it.

She knocked on the door. She was dressed in her uniform and had her hair tied up, as per her usual look when she was on active duty.

An older woman opened the door.

Maud: Dohajydh, mae Frances! (Hello, you must be Frances!)

Frances nodded; she believed Alfred had notified the owner as he said he would last night to Brandon. Frances knew that many Cornish people could speak the common English tongue, but prefer to keep to their native language, so respected it. Frances did not understand Cornish, unlike Duke Eli, who was a polyglot in addition to other attributes.

Maud: D'yw hwih o bist. Ytho anken eus! (It's been a long time. Let's get to work!)

Frances followed Maud, who led her to the workshop behind the tailor shop front, where needles and threads were strewn on a long wooden table. She was given the task of threading the needle and cutting the fabric, which Frances knew was easy work. The older woman then left her alone to go and tend to the storefront.

The fabric in front of her was quickly cut and threads were prepared. She was alone with her thoughts. Then looked around the workshop which was quite bare in terms of equipment. She remembered seeing small spinning wheel and threading machines powered by seamstresses back at Hatch Beauchamp Manor. Duke Eli and Lord Robert had introduced those inventions to the manor. She had heard that there was an invention of a mechanical wheel that could be used by a single person powered by a river's current, but Duke Eli had rejected the idea for the time being as it would replace seamstresses and harm the economy.

In her idle thoughts, Frances considered applying some of what she had learned to this shop. Finding a scrap of parchment and an inkwell, she began to draw a sketch of the simple thread wheel that they used at Hatch Beauchamp Manor. She knew the basic concept of the spinning wheel was simple, the thread was drawn out and then spun around a pole, but the mechanism was still a bit foreign to her.

"What are you doing?" the tailor shop owner asked in English, apparently amazed at the speed of her temporary assistant in finishing her tasks.

Frances jumped, dropping the drawing and looked up.

"I was making a design for a new machine," she replied in a low voice.

"Let me see," the older woman demanded.

She was handed the paper.

"Is this a machine to spin thread in a single process?" Maud asked, curiously.

"Yes. It can be made smaller and is operated by a seamstress rather than the several steps like what you currently do," Frances answered.

The older woman's brows raised in surprise and then nodded in acceptance.

"This is very good. What's your name?"

"Frances Howard, my lady."

"Oh, no my lady here, just call me Maud. I want you to help make this machine for me."

Thus, Frances sketched the machine she saw at Hatch Beauchamp Manor from memory. Though, since she was not a seamstress, she needed Mud's assistance to figure out certain parts were meant to hold thread or line them up for needlework.

As the day went on, she began to get to know the older woman. Maud had owned the tailor shop for many years. She had inherited it from her father and had trained under her mother, who had been the previous seamstress. After a day of combined work, a thread-spinning machine was designed by Frances. This design went to the blacksmith shop for construction, while raw materials not native to this area were bought from the store. In less than a week, Frances, Emile, and Cassandra had helped the small town of Helston develop the first spinning thread machine. Brandon through his skills developed in the tavern was able to find merchants from Bristol, who were interested in buying a supply of disposable work garments from the town's tailor shop, which could now offer deep discounts on such products.

A week after their arrival in town, the four recruits would return to the woods with the provided supplies that Alfred promised them: Food, tools, nails, and other goods. However, in addition to them, the other members of Helston wanted to assist their four young benefactors as they had created a major economic boon for them. The town of Helston had around 638 individuals of varying ages, but even with such small numbers, 469 townspeople assisted them in scouring the woods and sacking the senior recruits' camps throughout the woods. There were only 50 units of 4-person teams, so it was surprising that Frances and her group had acquired numerical superiority. Even groups that had made alliances for the war game were not immune, the largest group of 60 senior recruits were captured within 5 minutes of encountering the townspeople.

Frances and her friends were given commendations by Lord Robert Dudley for their actions, along with a special handwritten letter from Duke Eli thanking the townspeople for their assistance and their industrious development of the domain.

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Many of the recruits were sent back to their normal military units after the "war game" had ended. Only 84 recruits remained at the Training Base Seahawk, including the four recruits, who had received praise from Duke Eli.