David Drake - Conqueror

" RAJ! RAJ! RAJ! " Helmets went up on rifles, bobbing in rhythm to the chant. Yet when he raised his hand again, silence fell as if the sound had been cut off by a knife-blade.

"And the first thing I want you to do with your donative of six months' pay—" he cut off the gathering yell with a gesture " — is drink to our fallen comrades." That sobered the crowd a little.

"The Spirit has uploaded their souls to Its net. For the Spirit's sake, and theirs, and mine, remember that this land and these people are now also subjects of the Civil Government of Holy Federation, not our enemies." He smiled and made a broad gesture. "Remember that, and have fun, lads — you've earned it. Dismissed to quarters!"

He turned through the great bronze doors with an inward sigh of relief. The Spirit knew the men deserved the donative, and congratulations from their commander, but he'd never liked public speaking. Worse, there was always the risk some overenthusiastic imbecile would start hailing him with Gubernatorial honors, which rulers far less suspicious than Barholm Clerett would neither forget nor forgive.

The dying cheers were faint inside the great hall. Here the only soldiers were those who lined the red-carpeted passageway to the high seat of the Generals. They snapped to attention and presented arms as Raj passed by; he was conscious of six hundred years of history looking down from the walls. Six hundred years since Teodore Amalson conquered Old Residence and started this building; nearly that since his grandson finished it. Never in all that time had men in the uniform of the Civil Government entered here armed. That was not the only first today. Star Spirit priests proceeded him, swinging their censers of incense and chanting. Behind the seat the double lightning-flash of the Brigade was hidden by a huge Starburst banner. Other banners lay piled on the steps, Brigade battle-flags.

It was all highly symbolic, and from their stunned expressions the Brigade nobles who made up most of the audience appreciated every nuance. Raj paced up to the Seat, treading banners underfoot. Suzette stopped at the lower Consort's seat; Raj turned at the top of the dais and raised the mace of office. Save for the soldiers braced to attention, every head sank low in bow or curtsey, holding the posture until he sank back to the cushions.

"The Western Territories have returned to the care of Holy Federation, forever," he said. "And now, gentlemen, we have a great deal to do."

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Spirit, has it only been a month?" Raj said, looking down the table. The staff meeting had taken several hours, and it was not the only official gathering of his working day. "Middle age and Bureaucrat's Bottom is creeping up on all of us."

"Good work, Muzzaf." He tapped the sheaf of billeting and supply files before him. "Without you, we'd have had to do all this ourselves."

The slimly elegant Komarite bowed in his chair. "Willingly I suffer the emplumpment of the civil service in your cause," he said.

The Companions grinned; a few groaned in sympathy.

"One of us should escape," Gerrin Staenbridge said, leaning back and puffing on his cheroot. "Somebody's going to have to deal with the west coast."

Nods of agreement: the Forker family still had many partisans on the Costa Dil Orrehene, beyond the Ispirito mountains. A good many of them had refused to come in and swear allegiance.

"None of you," Raj said, "I'm going to quarter Juluk and his Skinners out there until they see the merits of law, order and submission."

After a moment's silence, Jorg Menyez spoke. "Now that is what they call an elegant solution," he said with a slow smile. His infantry were in charge of keeping order in the billeting zone, which was a fair definition of "utter futility" where Skinners were concerned.

"Kaltin, you will be getting out of town," Raj went on. "The Stalwarts have been making trouble north of Lis Plumhas. I want you to take your 7th, the 9th and 11th Descott Dragoons, 27th and 31st Diva Valley Rangers, the 3rd Novy Haifa, and the 14th Komar and go put a stop to it. You'll pick up fifteen thousand Brigade troops from the northern garrisons; don't hesitate to listen to their officers, they've had experience with the savages."

Kaltin nodded eagerly, then paused. "Ah, those are mostly Clerett's troops, aren't they?"

"No, they're the Civil Government's troops," Raj said coldly. "And it's about time they were reminded of it. Since Colonel Clerett prefers to remain in the city"- and sniff around my wife, damn him- "I'm sending them with you."

His tone returned to normal. "Incidentally, no prisoners, and you're authorized to counterraid across the frontier once you've disposed of those on our soil. With Stalwarts, you have to speak in a language they understand."

"I'd have to swear eternal brotherhood with them before killing them, to make them really comfortable," Kaltin said. "Actually, I'm fairly glad to get away from my own household right now."

A chuckle ran through the other men. "You really should slow down," someone said. "You'll wear yourself away to a sylph."

Kaltin gave him a look of affronted virtue. "It's Jaine, the little mophead I rescued from the Skinners? It turned out she was some sort of fifth grand-niece of the family I'm billeted with here."

"That's a problem?" Raj asked.

"No, floods of happy tears and she's off to the kinfolk and I'd be a fool to object, wouldn't I? Only Mitchi turns out to have gotten attached to the girl and she's moping and blaming me. "

"Get her pregnant, man," Tejan M'Brust said.

"She is pregnant. Have you ever slept with a woman who pukes every morning?" Gerrin made a tsk sound. "Easy for you to say. In any event, I'm glad to be on my way back to the field."

"Quickly," Raj said. "And take the Forty Thieves with you."

Antin M'lewis looked up; his men were enjoying themselves in Carson Barracks, and only a few had been caught as yet.

"The Honorable Fedherko Chivrez is coming to join us," Raj said. "As the Governor's representative in the field." At the others' blank look: "He was Director of Supply in Komar back a couple of years."

Muzzaf Kerpatik swore sharply in a Sponglish whose sing-song Borderer accent was suddenly very strong.

Kaltin frowned. "Not the cheating bastard who tried to stiff us on the supplies just before the El Djem raid?"

"Just the one. And the one you and Evrard ran out a closed window headfirst, then held while Antin here started to flay him from the feet up."

"It worked," Kaltin pointed out.

Raj nodded. "And I still want both of you out of town when he arrives, which could be any time."

"Chivrez is Tzetzas' dog," Muzzaf cut in. "And the Chancellor never forgets an injury."

"Agreed," Raj said. "See to it you're gone by this time tomorrow." The two men left.

"If there's nothing else?"

Ludwig Bellamy coughed politely. "Ah, mi heneral, Marie and Teodore would like a word with you this evening. Confidential."

Raj raised a brow, caught by something unusual in the young man's tone. "By all means," he said.

"I thought I might be there," Ludwig said. "And possibly Gerrin?"

Raj leaned back in his chair. "They requested that?" he said, his eyes narrowing slightly.

Ludwig flushed slightly and looked at his fingernails. "No, it was just a thought."

"Then I'll see them alone in my private office in—" he consulted a watch " — twenty minutes. If that's all, messers? Not you, Gerrin."

When they were alone: "What was that in aid of, do you know?"

"Not really," the other man said, taking out a small ivory-handled knife and trimming a fingernail. "Ludwig has been talking to me of late. . and not for the sake of my winsome charm, worse luck. I think he's worried about this administrator they're sending out; he's convinced it would be a mistake to replace you so soon, if that's what he's going to do."