Harry Turtledove - Marching Through Peachtree

Lieutenant General Bell got there last-not surprising, given his wounds. But he was, as always, full of fight. “Now we’ve shown the southrons they can’t come in,” he said. “When the sun rises tomorrow, we ought to charge out through the gaps and drive them away.”

“No,” Joseph the Gamecock said.

“I beg your pardon, sir?” Bell said, eyebrows rising at Joseph’s bluntness.

Count Joseph had never been one to suffer fools, or even disagreement, gladly. “That is a technical term, Lieutenant General, meaning, in essence, no .”

Bell had a temper of his own. “Why the devils not, sir?” he demanded, waving his good arm. “We can go forth and conquer.”

“Or we can go forth and be beaten,” Joseph the Gamecock said. “Since General Hesmucet has close to twice as many men as we do, which do you reckon more likely? We can’t afford a beating like that, not when we have Marthasville to protect. If we beat Hesmucet, what happens? He falls back to Rising Rock, at the most. That does us very little good I can see.”

“But, sir-” Bell tried again.

“No,” Joseph repeated, and took no small pleasure at interrupting his insubordinate subordinate. “And I will give you one more reason, Lieutenant General: a column of southrons is pushing through Viper River Gap toward Caesar, twenty miles north of here. Don’t you feel we ought to think just a little about that, perhaps even do something about it?”

“Viper River Gap? Caesar?” Bell brooded for a moment-although, after his pair of dreadful wounds, his expression was always brooding. At last, he said, “Oh. That alters the situation.”

“Just a bit.” Joseph the Gamecock could no more resist being waspish than Lieutenant General Bell could resist charging forward regardless of whether the situation called for it.

Roast-Beef William said, “I wouldn’t be surprised if Hesmucet didn’t attack so hard here to keep us busy while he sent that column up to the north.”

“Exactly what I was thinking,” Joseph replied, as benignly as he could. Even he had a hard time barking at someone who agreed with him.

“Very clever,” Leonidas the Priest said, by which he no doubt meant he would never have thought of it himself.

“Very clever indeed,” Bell said. “Sneaky. Perfidious. Underhanded.” By that he no doubt meant he not only would never have thought of it himself, but also reckoned less than chivalrous the enemy who had.

“The only rule you can’t break in war is that you must win,” Joseph said. Bell looked ready to argue, but Joseph overrode him: “Husham Forkbeard is up at Caesar all by his lonesome. The first thing I have to do is reinforce him, so the southrons can’t seize the glideway. Leonidas!”

“Sir?” the hierophant of the Lion God replied.

He wasn’t a great soldier. He never would be. But he was willing, he was brave, and, even more to the point, he led the soldiers farthest north in the main body of the Army of Franklin. Joseph said, “Get your men on the road at once. I want them to reach Caesar as fast as humanly possible, and to give Husham all the help he needs to hold the place.”

“Yes, sir,” Leonidas said. “Ah… What do I do if I reach Caesar and find it fallen to the southrons?”

That was a better question than Joseph the Gamecock would have expected from him. After a moment’s thought, the commanding general answered, “Counterattack. The southrons can’t have enormous numbers there. But I hope-I pray, if you like, holy sir-Husham will hold the town. He’s a solid fighting man, a warrior of the old school.”

“All right, sir.” Leonidas the Priest saluted. “I just wanted to know what you required of me.” He saluted and strode away, his blood-red vestments bright even in the deepening twilight.

“What of the rest of the army, sir?” Roast-Beef William asked.

“We’ll leave enough men behind at the gaps for a little while to make sure the southrons don’t swarm through,” Joseph answered. “As for the rest, we’ll all get down to Caesar as quick as we can. Unless I’m altogether mad, that’s where General Hesmucet is going. If he brings his whole army down there, we ought to give him a proper reception, don’t you think?”

“ I think we ought to attack,” Lieutenant General Bell said.

Joseph the Gamecock shook his head. “If you ever command this army, you may lead it as you please. While I command, you will obey me. We have trenches waiting all around Caesar. Our men are going into them.”

Stubbornly, Bell said, “Entrenchments weaken the fighting spirit of the men. They would be bolder, fighting out in the open.”

“They would take more losses, fighting out in the open,” Joseph said. “We cannot afford to take more losses. Why won’t you listen to me? The idea is to make the southrons take losses, to make them take so many that they get sick of the war, give it up, and leave us alone. Have you got that?”

“The idea of fighting a war, sir, is to win it.” Bell had no more give in him than did his superior.

“Go on,” Joseph the Gamecock growled. “Just go on. I promise you, there will be plenty of fighting for everyone before this campaign is through. As for now… just go.” He didn’t quite scream, Get out of my sight! That he didn’t he reckoned a sign of nearly godlike restraint on his part.

If the southrons break into Caesar, if Husham Forkbeard can’t hold them away from the glideway, we’ll all have more fighting than we want, but not for very long , he thought. The Army of Franklin would break up, and that would be the end of King Geoffrey’s cause here in the east.

Riding a unicorn toward Caesar was a torment for Joseph, not because he was saddle sore but because he was in an agony of suspense. Finally, he couldn’t stand it any more. He rode off into a field and motioned for a scryer to come to him. The man did his best, but said, “I can’t bring Husham Forkbeard’s scryer onto the crystal ball, sir. I’m sorry.”

“Gods damn it, how am I supposed to know what’s going on if no one will tell me?” Joseph ground out. The likeliest reason Husham’s scryer wouldn’t or couldn’t talk was that the man was busy fighting for his life. Joseph knew that only too well. However well he knew it, though, he didn’t care to think about it.

At last, when Joseph was within three or four miles of Caesar and about to boot his unicorn up into a gallop so he could find out how things were going there, the scryer said, “Sir, here’s Brigadier Husham.”

“Well, gods be praised!” Joseph the Gamecock snatched the crystal out of the scryer’s hands and rode along with it in his lap. “Husham! Tell me at once, are we holding there?”

“Yes, sir.” Husham Forkbeard’s fierce features blazed with pride. They also showed a sword cut he hadn’t had before. “They came at Caesar. We gave ’em a nice warm northern hello with massed crossbow volleys and all the engines, and they fell back. Right now, they’re digging in across the mouth of Viper River Gap.”

“Let ’em,” Joseph said. “We’re not trying to break out, no matter what Lieutenant General Bell says.” He breathed a sigh of relief-two sighs of relief, in fact, one for holding and the other… “Seems to me General Hesmucet doesn’t quite know what to do with his great big army yet. Good.”

“Maybe that’s it,” Husham allowed. “I tell you for true, though, sir, if they’d hit me with everything they had, gods only know how I would’ve held ’em. Now I’ve got that brigade from Leonidas the Priest, so I’m good for a while longer, anyways. And I hear tell you’re bringing more men up towards Caesar.”

“I’m bringing the whole army, Brigadier,” Joseph answered. “And I’ll tell you something else, too: I don’t think I’m the only one.”