My Time In The Rebellion (Part I)


By Nathan Albright

Chapter 3

As the sun rose that fine morning, Great Purple Hairstreaks alighted on each one of the people in the hurried conversation in the palace of the Bravia family. In the conversation was Natonito, Oen, Oen�s wife Karen, who was Natonito�s younger sister, and their young son Henry.

�What is going on, father,� Henry said.

�The rebellion has begun. Duke Longbert has cast his fate with the Empire,� Oen said.

�What are we going to do now?� Karen said.

�We have to get you and Henry to safter ground,� Natonito said.

�How are we going to do that, brother,� Karen asked.

�You and Henry are going to dress like farmers, and go off to one of the farms in the Cork area,� Natonito said.

�Why Cork?� Henry asked. �I thought only hicks lived there.�

�Son, that is not polite to say,� Karen said.

�Cork is a good place to be because it is far enough away so that you and Henry are away from the fighting,� Natonito said. �And yet it is close enough that Oen can keep tabs on you and so you can let each other know you are alright.�

�And you are fine with this, my dear?� Karen said.

�It is the only way that you and Henry will be safe. The troops will be coming soon to loot the palace, so we must leave now,� Oen said.

�Alright, let�s go. We can finish talking on the way,� Karen said. �I am glad that you boys are looking out for our safety before you go off to war.�

�Well, we are hardly boys, sis, but it is not right that you should be hostages or victims because of this war. We will do everything we can to protect you both. When you�re hiding out as farm laborers, though, try not to stick out. Odds are that the Imperial troops will be looking out for you,� Natonito said.

�I think I see some troops marching in the distance,� Henry said.

�We�d better leave, then,� Oen said.

They silently left, leaving no trace behind of where they went. As they went in the carrier, they talk to each other, feeling ever more tense.

�It�s not the hiding that bothers me,� Karen said. �It�s the running. It�s like we can�t stop them so we have to keep fleeing like rabbits to a safer place.�

�I know, I hate running too,� Natonito said. �But remember, it is better to run and live than stand and die. If one must die, die bravely, but if one can live and cannot fight, run.�

�Bravery in being a chicken, uncle?� Henry said.

�Something like that,� Natonito said.

�You are full of wisdom today, brother,� Karen said. �Something bothering you?�

�This whole war is bothering me,� Natonito said. �What purpose did the emperor have in taunting us and baiting us to rebel?�

�What do you mean?� Karen asked.

�First, he takes Robert Russ III and indicts him for treason, causing riots all over Secfenia.� Natonito said. �Then, at the closing day of session, he baits me personally and increases the taxes on Secfenia to suit his royal whims. Then he goes off and makes Duke Longbert his toady, promising him the spot in the Senate after my demise.�

�How does he plan your demise?� Henry asked, puzzled.

�He has sent a 400,000 man army to crush Bravia,� Natonito said solemnly.

�What are you going to do about that? The dukes can only summon up some 50,000 troops themselves,� Karen said.

�We are going to have to bring the people into this,� Natonito said. �That is the only way we have a shot. All of the dukes who have rallied to our cause will have to summon the commonfolk in defense of their land. Only then do we have a chance against the Imperial war machine.�

�Where do you plan on fighting?� Henry asked.

�We will wage guerilla war if we have to, to keep the troops guessing and frustrated. There are many hills and forests that provide hiding places for the forces that we have now. When the army of the people of Bravia is finished, we will meet near the capital, probably around Cork,� Natonito said.

�Why there? We will be hiding there, remember?� Karen asked.

�It is centrally located, and swampy. We will feign a retreat into the swamps and lure the Imperial troops in, who will be frustrated at the hit and run raids and will be spoiling for a fight.� Natonito said. �And there we will surround them in the woods and wetland and destroy them.�

�You�re assuming they will be dumb enough to follow you,� Henry said.

�You�re smart for a little kid.� Natonito said. �They�ll follow the troops because I will make it known that I am among them.�

�You mean you�ll make yourself bait?� Karen said. �This sounds like an Albright plan. How long did it take you to think of that?�

�I thought of it while we were coming from the Longbert manor back to you guys last night,� Natonito said.

�Do you really think it will work?� Karen asked.

�It�s the best shot we�ve got,� Natonito said. �If we fight them out in the open, we are toast. Their troops are better trained than ours, have better equipment, and are more organized. We�re no match in an open field battle. We do have the advantage of local knowledge and mobility, because we can strike them anywhere and then disappear into the Bravian countryside. After a while, this will become so frustrating that the Imperial troops will threaten to kill all of those suspected of helping out the rebels. At that point I will send a proclamation to the Bravian people asking them to fight like gentlemen."

Henry laughs, �You�re a trickster, aren�t you?�

�Yes, I am,� Natonito replies. �That proclamation will be the code for all of the rebel groups to unite at the central point, right here around Cork. Then we will lay the trap with me as the bait, watch as the Imperial troops come straight for my detachment, and then we shall surround them and cut them to pieces. Then they shall be presented with the choice of surrender or death. I think they will choose to surrender, even if it is to irregular partisans, and provincials no less.�

�That is brilliant. What makes you think it will work?� Karen asked.

�These people are Imperial soldiers, trained on their superiority. They are an industrial army, having no skill at fighting wars fought in thickets and meadows, in creekbeds and swamps. They will watch their men die not gloriously on the battlefield slaying their foe, but at supper time, during the night, as snipers pick them off one by one in the shadows. They will then start to fear the people of Bravia, see the whole countryside as their enemy, not know when the next strike will come and if they will die. This will wear on them, and they will get despondent, write home about how horrible the war is, and seek cruel revenge on the Bravian people. Since I do not want the revenge to take place, I will arrange for the battle right after this war weariness sets in, so that the people do not have to suffer. At that time the Imperial troops will be sufficiently humiliated by the hit and run tactics that they will jump at the chance for a frontal battle. And we will give it to them. They will rush madly headlong at my small detachment, and I will retreat into the swamps and dare them to follow. Smelling victory at last, they will rush into the swamps, where the other dukes will lead their troops to encircle the Imperial troops and crush their flanks. Since it is me they want, they will probably be hasty and not reconnoiter like usual,� Natonito said.

�You mean they will not be careful and will be ready to be entrapped?� Henry asked.

�You are catching on well,� Natonito said. �I hope this works, because otherwise it will be disaster.�

�Have faith, brother,� Karen said. �I don�t think they have anyone as smart as you are on the other side.�

�We shall see,� Oen said. �We are at Cork now.�

�This is the place where our migrant workers live, right dad?� Henry asked.

�Yes, the braceros live here and pick strawberries for us,� Oen said.

�Why are they darker skinned than we are?� Henry asked.

�They come from another land, and came here to Bravia for greater wealth and happiness,� Oen said.

�Are they happy?� Henry asked.

�I do not know. I do not speak their language, and I do not know what life is like for them. If life can be so horrible that one is driven to leave it for migrant work, though, it does not seem like their life before was happy. It seems like the songs they sing at night, after a long day picking pint after pint of strawberries, are mixed with a sense of regret about leaving home, but a happiness at the wealth they have gained,� Oen said.

�Do they know that they are poor by our standards?� Henry asked.

�You ask many questions, my son. There are no easy answers to this. After all, our wealth depends on their poverty. If they were rich, we would have to pay more money for our crops, and so we would be poorer,� Oen said. �After all, these people do not have the education to succeed in any other business.�

�But the kids, do they work too?� Henry asked.

�Yes, the children work, except for those rare times when they can go to school,� Oen said.

�But if they don�t go to school, doesn�t that mean that the kids never catch up to our level, so that they have to work all their lives in the strawberry fields themselves, and then have children in the same kind of poverty?� Henry asked.

�That is the way the world is, son,� Oen said. �Some must suffer so that we can enjoy life. Sometimes I tremble for the justice of our Creator.�

�Who cuts the grain in our farms down?� Henry asked. �Is it the migrant workers?�

�No, son, the migrant workers are not skilled enough to run the tractors and grinders,� Oen said. �Instead the poor Bravian laborers do that.�

�Are they as poor as the migrant workers, daddy?� Henry asked.

�No, son, they are better off than the migrant workers,� Oen said.

�Do they know how poor they are?� Henry said.

�Unfortunately, my son, they are all too aware of how poor they are. It is so hard to get loyal peasant help, as they are always stealing and sabotaging equipment, or fleeing off to the city,� Oen said.

�How do you keep a supply of farm laborers then?� Henry asked.

�We are constantly buying up the small family farms in the area so that we have a supply of skilled farm labor to work our fields,� Oen said.

�What if the farmers don�t want to sell their land and become our workers? What if they like their own land the way it is?� Henry asked.

�Some dukes use their troops to terrorize farmers and pressure them to sell. I figure that if a farmer loves his land enough to stay on it no matter what, and keeps up his land and works hard on it, let him be a landowner. Such people are pillars of the small communities. They are better than the landless drifting souls who seek out work for a pittance. Better to be poor but a landowner than to be rootless and always in personal distress, never having a home where you belong,� Henry said.

�Why don�t we pay the workers more?� Henry said. �Allow them to have their own small plots of land so that they have some kind of home.�

�It�s not that easy son,� Oen said.

�You have a bright son,� Natonito said. �I was just listening to his questions.�

�You didn�t answer my question, father,� Henry said. �Why don�t we pay the workers more?�

�Because then we would be less well off ourselves,� Oen said. �We would be making ourselves much poorer so that our workers could be a little richer.�

�What good does our wealth do to them, if they cannot share in it?� Henry asked. �What is so important about our position?�

�Ah, my son, I need to explain to you some thing. We are nobles, born into the high aristocracy. You will be the Duke of the House of Bravia someday,� Oen said. �We use our wealth and power to serve the people of Bravia.�

�You mean because we are born with these titles that we owe a duty to help those around us?� Henry asked.

�Yes, my son,� Oen said.

�But what if one is born poor, and works and becomes rich?� Henry said. �Does that person owe a duty to help others as well?�

�Yes, Henry,� Oen said. �Our wealth means nothing if we do not use it to help others. Even if we are unable to pay them large amounts of money, and even if they are poor, we will use our power to serve their interests.�

�So the money and the power come with strings attached?� Henry asked.

�Yes, my son. Everything in life comes with strings attached,� Oen said.

�Thanks for telling me all this,� Henry said. �I�ve just been wondering, seeing all these poor kids in ratty clothes, barefoot and all. They look like me, but so different.�

�I am so proud of you son,� Karen said.

�Why, mom?� Henry asked, puzzled.

�Because you are a compassionate person,� Karen said. �Never let the world take that away from you.�

�I won�t mom, I promise,� Henry said as they walked towards the first farmer�s place they saw.


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