David Weber - The Road to Hell

They wouldn’t all be sitting here in judgment of the man she loved.

“Magister Gadrial,” Count Tisbane’s voice jolted her attention back to the courtroom, “your powers of observation and recall are clearly substantial and-to judge from comparison with other witness’ testimony-accurate.

“What was your overall impression of Hundred Olderhan’s command judgment during the preparations for your journey into what proved to be the contact universe?”

“Hundred Olderhan told Fifty Garlath to have the platoon ready to march within the hour,” she said flatly. “Fifty Garlath was incapable of complying with that order. In the two weeks Fifty Garlath spent in charge of the camp, he managed to reduce his command to a state of total chaos. His platoon was physically incapable of re-organizing and re-packing its equipment, supplies, and even personal gear, which Fifty Garlath had insisted the troops lay out in constant ‘surprise inspections’ that he sprang without warning every other day or so.”

Her lip curled in remembered disgust.

“Those inspections were apparently designed to show his favorite cronies which troopers had the gear most worth stealing. A number of troopers complained viciously within my earshot that someone had stolen various items after each surprise inspection.”

“They complained of stolen gear?” Tisbane asked softly as every officer on the court-martial board went rigid with anger. “What kind of gear, Magister?”

“Yes, Defensor, they most certainly did. One soldier complained about losing a spell-powered canteen that purified water in one pass. Another had deluxe nav-gear stolen from his pack-gear he’d paid for with personal savings. I heard a number of similar mutters over the course of those two weeks, ranging from the theft of expensive equipment to the filching of specialty cross-bow quarrels and popular snacks sent by family members. They’d just arrived in the mail sacks that were delivered from the ship I sailed on, traveling to meet Halathyn. That was bad enough.

“But one night I overheard one of Fifty Garlath’s cronies whispering to another of his favorites that he had enough gear stashed away to earn several thousand in profits when he went on leave.

“When I brought that conversation to the Fifty’s attention, he told me civilians had no business butting into military affairs and warned me that civilians who did so invariably had their noses bloodied. He gave me breezy assurances the troopers would be questioned and their gear would be searched, but those assurances were as worthless as the rest of him. They were never questioned, never searched, and certainly never censured.

“ That was the reason the platoon was in such wild disarray when Hundred Olderhan gave the order to march. Garlath had ordered a major inspection that morning, to include a full layout of field loads. Not just personal gear, but field dragons, the spell accumulators to power them, medical equipment, you name it. They’d only put away half of it when Hundred Olderhan returned to camp.”

Gadrial shrugged. “I would have taken it up with the Hundred at an opportune moment, but both men involved in the stolen gear incidents were killed in the fighting at Toppled Timber. So was Fifty Garlath. We were far too swamped after that battle, just trying to keep the wounded alive while Hundred Olderhan sent men ahead to verify the portal and pulled the rest of us back to the Swamp Portal, to bother reporting it. Truth to tell, I’d completely forgotten about it until I sat down to prepare for this testimony.”

All eyes had darted to the truth detection light as she spoke. It never so much as flickered, and now the entire panel of officers stared at her in white-lipped rage. Sogbourne leaned forward with a furious demand.

“Were you aware of any other illegal dealings by Shevan Garlath or his ‘favorites’ among the platoon?”

“Not that I could prove, Sir. Fifty Garlath and Specialist vos Hoven were very tight, having apparently served together in another platoon. But I heard and saw nothing that could serve as evidence that would hold up in court, either military or civilian.

“By the time Hundred Olderhan arrived, I was so disgusted with Shevan Garlath and his nasty little games-including constant belittling of men he or his cronies disliked-I would have turned him in to Hundred Olderhan in a heartbeat if I’d had sufficient evidence. Shevan Garlath was the most repulsive man I ever met, including the shakira faculty and students at the Mythal Falls Academy.”

Sogbourne actually winced.

Solvar Rinthrak and the other officers scowled like gorgons.

Count Tisbane took Gadrial carefully through the events of that terrible day, from the moment of their departure to the first, fateful rifle shot in the distance. She described Jasak’s efforts to rehabilitate the officer, forcing Garlath to do his job to at least minimally acceptable standards. She described Garlath’s insubordinate behavior and language and Jasak’s attempts to protect the safety of his command as well as her interpretation of his decision to leave Garlath in command of the platoon despite his patent inadequacies.

“I’m not a soldier,” Gadrial said carefully, “but I’ve worked with military men on a number of occasions during my tenure as assistant director of NAITHMA. The academy’s housed on a military base, after all, and derives a high percentage of its funding from military sources. During the early years, almost all its funding came from the military, in fact, and I was responsible for meeting with a wide variety of officers to secure and administer those funds. I’ve seen any number of officers interacting with subordinates, whether they were visiting my lab or I was visiting their offices on one military base or another.”

Tisbane nodded. “Understood. Please continue, Magister.”

“When trooper Osmuna was found dead and no one could even make a guess as to what had killed him, let alone who, the troopers were visibly rattled. Some of them were terrified. For that matter, so was I. Everyone was jumping at shadows for those first few minutes.

“When one of the cartridge cases was found on a stream bank overlooking Osmuna’s body, alongside footprints that looked very much like human feet had made them, a lot of the fear dissipated, but the men were still shaken. Hundred Olderhan ordered me to stay back during the preliminary investigation of Osmuna’s body, with two troopers as bodyguards. When we finally joined the rest of the platoon, I overheard one of the soldiers say he was glad Hundred Olderhan was back, but he was just as glad the Hundred had left Garlath in command.”

“Why, Magister Gadrial?” Tisbane asked.

“I thought it was an awfully strange remark, until the soldier he was talking to said, ‘Yeah, me, too. With Garlath giving the orders, at least we’ll know what to expect. It’ll probably be the coward’s road, but we’ll know what he’s likely to do. Now the Hundred’s back, he’ll straighten the Fifty out if Garlath tells us to do something really stupid.’ And that’s exactly what Hundred Olderhan did, on several occasions. The men weren’t happy, Your Worship, but they settled down to perform their duties very effectively.”

She bit her lip, then. “The worst moment was when we reached that clearing and Hundred Olderhan ordered Garlath to search it.”

“He ordered Fifty Garlath to search it?” Tisbane asked sharply. “Not the point squad?”

“That’s correct, yes. He ordered Garlath and his point squad to search the clearing for enemy personnel. He believed our quarry might be hidden in all that timber blown down by the wind. I wasn’t close enough at that point to see what was happening, since he kept me back the same way he had before. He stationed me in a gully, out of the line of possible fire, with a pair of guards to watch over me if the enemy did spring an ambush. I couldn’t see, but I could hear what he and the other members of the platoon were saying, very clearly.”