Django Wexler - The Thousand Names

“Sir?”

“If there’s something you wish to say, I encourage you to say it.”

Marcus stiffened. “It’s not my place, sir.”

“Nonsense. In a crisis, certainly, I expect to be obeyed without question, and I must say you have performed admirably on that front. Afterward, however, you may feel free to berate me however you like. My pride is not easily injured.”

Marcus blinked. “Sir?”

“However.” Janus held up a hand and looked around at the bustling camp. “Perhaps we should be alone.”

Janus’ tent was nearby. Augustin let them in, his lined face disapproving as always. Once they were seated on opposite sides of the camp table, Janus sent the servant off to the commissary in search of fresh water. Marcus wondered if this was for his benefit.

“Sir,” he ventured, “did we have business to attend to?”

“Of course,” Janus said. “But first, I think, the air must be cleared. Whatever you wish to say, please say it.”

Marcus took a deep breath and held it for a moment. Criticizing a senior officer to his face went against every tenet of army etiquette, not to mention good sense. But Janus had insisted. He tried to frame the question as politely as possible.

Luck. The colonel had gambled, and it had paid off. But if he was overconfident before, now he’ll be positively dangerous.If I can make him see that. .

“When the Redeemer infantry first approached,” Marcus said, “why did you order us to hold our fire? We could have done them a great deal of damage in the time it took them to form and charge. We might even have broken up the attack altogether.” Marcus swallowed hard, but persevered. “It seemed. . unnecessarily risky. Sir.”

The colonel was silent for a moment, looking thoughtful. “Risky,” he said. “Probably. Certainly. But unnecessary?” He shook his head. “What you need to understand, Captain, is that the answer to every question is not in the tactics manual. You should consider the larger situation.”

He waved a hand. “For example, you must always consider the character of the enemy. Truthfully, I did not know this one as well as I might have liked-a Vordanai force, for example, or a Hamveltai one would have been a different matter. But I knew they were green troops who had never faced a field battle. Poorly organized, led with enthusiasm but without discipline.”

“I would have thought green troops more likely to be disordered by long-range fire.”

“Precisely. Disordered, but not broken. Suppose we had opened on them, and they had retired in confusion before reaching musket range. What would the result have been?”

“A victory,” Marcus said.

“And then? What would our next move have been?” Janus raised an eyebrow. “Cannon kill with great efficiency, but not fast enough to make up for our numerical disadvantage. We lack the cavalry strength for an effective pursuit. The Redeemers would have simply retired a short distance and confronted us again, at substantially the same odds. Sooner or later, they would hold together long enough to push a charge home, and then-disaster. Or, if they had a commander with any skill, a flanking movement would have forced us to retreat. In either case, once that vast army had its legs underneath it, things would go hard for us.”

Marcus nodded. “We might have fallen back to a defensible position-”

“Then we would have been lost for certain. Nothing hardens men faster than a siege, and they would have little trouble cutting us off from water and forage. The best we could hope for would be to cut our way back to the fleet.” The colonel shook his head. “No, the only chance for victory was a complete rout. A single, sudden blow, so hard that they would come apart entirely. For green troops, their first contact with enemy fire is crucial. It sets the character, you might say, of everything that comes afterward. Most of those men will never return to the enemy ranks, or if they do they will only run again. Certainly it will take weeks before they can assemble another force half so large. And, in the meantime, the road to Ashe-Katarion is open.”

Marcus sat for a moment in silence, absorbing this.

“Our troops were green as well,” he said after a while. “Most of them, anyway. And even the Old Colonials had never fought a battle like this.”

“Indeed,” Janus said. “I expect this first contact to have a most salutary effect on them.”

Luck, Marcus thought. He risked all our lives on-a hunch? His impression of the enemy? But he couldn’t fault Janus’ logic. He himself hadn’t seen any way to win through against the numbers they’d faced. He’d assumed that, in spite of Janus’ talk the night he’d arrived, he planned to make a reasonable effort, prove to his superiors that he was no coward, and then retreat when the situation became untenable.

He really does intend to win. The thought made Marcus shiver.

“Well?” Janus said. “Does that satisfy you, Captain?”

“I’m not sure, sir,” Marcus said. “I need to think on it.”

“Do so. And feel free to return with further questions.” The smile again, there and gone like distant lightning. “It’s part of a commanding officer’s duty to educate his subordinates.”

If that was true, no one had told the other colonels Marcus had served under. Not that Ben could have taught me much. He nodded anyway.

“Yes, sir. Now, you said you had business?”

“Indeed,” Janus said, without a change in his expression. “I would like you to arrest Captain Adrecht Roston, on the charge of dereliction of duty and others pending investigation.”

Marcus stared, feeling as though he’d been punched in the stomach. Janus raised his eyes to the tent flap.

“Ah, Augustin,” he said. “Something to eat as well, I think.”

“Sir,” Marcus began, “I’m not. .” He stopped, fighting the urge to panic, and cleared his throat. “Are you sure? I’m just not certain that-that this is wise.”

“Wise?” Janus raised an eyebrow. “Would you say that Captain Roston is a good battalion commander?”

Marcus almost said, “Of course,” automatically-no senior officer could expect an honest answer to a question like that! — but something in those gray eyes made him hesitate.

“Would you say that he has acquitted himself well over the past month?” Janus went on.

Again Marcus was silent. The colonel seemed to take that for a reply.

“Then would you say that he’s well liked by his men? That his removal might cause discipline problems?”

Not goddamned likely. There were certainly a few in the Fourth Battalion who would shed a tear at Adrecht’s passing, but that would be because they enjoyed the laxity of his discipline, not his company. In Ashe-Katarion he’d practically ignored the rankers, preferring to spend his time with the other officers and a glittering array of Khandarai high society.

“And finally,” Janus continued remorselessly, “would you say there are no better men available? Your Lieutenant Fitzhugh Warus, for example, seems to have done exemplary work.”

Marcus found his voice at last. “But, sir. Dereliction of duty?”

“He disobeyed a direct order from a superior when his men began looting the Redeemer camp. Or failed to enforce one, which amounts to the same thing. The result was damaging to our cause and our material position. What else would you call it?”

“The men were-are-green, sir. They got out of control-”

“All the more reason to show them that this sort of conduct will not be tolerated.” Janus’ voice was still pleasant, but Marcus thought he could hear the ring of steel underneath. “A demonstration must be made.”