Harry Turtledove - Marching Through Peachtree

“We do indeed,” Joseph said. “I have always said I would smite the stinking southrons if I saw the chance. Now I do believe they are giving it to us, and I intend to use it.”

“You had better tell me more, sir,” Bell said, blinking. “This is extremely surprising.” This is nothing like what I’ve told King Geoffrey in my letters, he thought. What will he do if he hears of the Army ofFranklin attacking? What will he do if he hears of it attacking successfully? Whatever it is, it will be nothing that works to my advantage .

“I shall be delighted, Lieutenant General,” Joseph the Gamecock said. “It appears that General Hesmucet is detaching some large part of his force for another move north around our flank. If we wait till that part has made its move, I think we can strike what’s left with some hope of victory.”

“Looks that way to me, too,” Roast-Beef William said.

“I am dubious about the whole proposition,” Leonidas the Priest declared. “I think it may be nothing but a trap, designed to lure us from our entrenchments so that the enemy may fall upon us.”

Bell could have kissed the older man. Now he wouldn’t be the only one speaking up against the whole idea. “I think Leonidas may have a point,” he said. “I’ve had no reports of the southrons’ moving north again come to my ears.”

“You can ride out to the front line and see for yourself,” Joseph the Gamecock said in some-more than some-exasperation. “Bell, you have been agitating for an attack ever since I took command of the Army of Franklin. How is it that, now that I propose one, you have not the stomach for it?”

“I want to attack with some hope of victory, sir,” Bell replied. I want to attack when it’s my idea, not yours . But he couldn’t say that to the general commanding.

The general commanding, by his sniff, had no trouble figuring it out regardless of whether Bell actually said it. “You have a certain amount of trouble with subordination, don’t you, Lieutenant General?”

“Duke Edward of Arlington never thought so, sir,” Bell said stiffly.

“Duke Edward of Arlington gives men more leeway than most officers are in the habit of doing,” Joseph retorted. “When I give you an order, I expect it to be obeyed. Have you got that?”

“Yes, sir,” Bell said, holding in his rage. “I have failed in no obedience.” And that was true, so far as the campaign itself went. Subordination, now, that was a different question-and Joseph the Gamecock didn’t know how different an answer it had.

“All right, then,” Joseph said. “I want all three of you to prepare your men for an attack tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, sir,” Roast-Beef William said. He asked no questions. He did as he was told. Joseph the Gamecock would never complain about his subordination.

Leonidas the Priest turned sorrowful eyes on the general commanding. “I fear the Lion God does not smile on this enterprise,” the hierophant said. “The omens are not good. And without the gods’ backing, where are we?”

“On our own in the world,” Joseph the Gamecock said, fixing Leonidas with a glare like a flying crossbow quarrel. “I reverence the gods, holy sir-don’t get me wrong about that. But until I hear them speak in my own ears, I have to make my choices about what to do. I have, and I am.”

“May the Lion God not smite you for your arrogance, sir,” Leonidas said. “I shall pray for his forbearance.”

“Maybe we would do better to send out scouting forces come morning, to see if the southrons really did shift some large part of their host,” Bell said.

Joseph threw his hands in the air. “By all the gods, gentlemen, how can I hope to attack when two of my three wing commanders think I’d be making a mistake to do so? And then King Geoffrey will blame me for not being aggressive enough.”

You haven’t been aggressive enough, Bell thought. You may try to make up for it now, but you would have done better to strike at the southrons from the start .

“I am an obedient man, sir,” Leonidas the Priest said. “If you order me to send my soldiers forward, I shall do so, regardless of my own personal feelings as to the wisdom of the order.”

“No, no, no, no.” Joseph the Gamecock shook his head. “If we attack, we should put all our force, all our spirit, into it. Otherwise, we might as well not do it at all.” He swung his gaze back toward Bell. “Lieutenant General!”

“Yes, sir!” Bell said loudly.

“If you make this probing attack of yours and discover the enemy before you is weak, will you advance against him at all hazards?”

“Yes, sir. Of course, sir,” Bell replied.

“All right, then,” Joseph the Gamecock said. “Go ahead and do it. If the foe proves as weak as I expect, put everything you have into the blow.”

“Yes, sir,” Bell said for the third time. “If I may make so bold as to tell you, sir, you don’t need to say that to me.”

“All right,” Joseph said, also repeating himself. “I know you strike hard when you strike. I hadn’t thought getting you to strike would be so much trouble, though.” He pointed to Roast-Beef William and Leonidas the Priest in turn. “Have your men ready to move, too. If Bell’s attack shows the southrons to be as weak as I think they are, I’ll want to hit them every which way at once.”

“Yes, sir,” Roast-Beef William said. He would obey without complaining and without making anyone feel he was doing him a favor.

“Yes, sir,” Leonidas the Priest echoed. He wasn’t happy about it, and he didn’t care who knew he wasn’t happy.

Bell just nodded and made his slow way back to the buggy. He felt Joseph the Gamecock’s eyes boring into him every step of the way, but didn’t turn around to look at the commanding general. When he returned to his own smooth-floored headquarters, he sent runners to the brigades under his command, ordering them to ready themselves for battle.

“What’s going on, sir?” Major Zibeon asked.

Briefly, Bell explained. “This isn’t the best time or place for the attack,” he finished, “but I must obey.”

Zibeon nodded. “It may not be so bad as you think, sir,” he said, something like enthusiasm on his usually sour face. “If Hesmucet really has detached some large part of his force for a flanking attack, we can punish the rest before the detached portion is able to come to its rescue.”

“That is also Joseph the Gamecock’s theory,” Bell said. “How it will turn out in practice remains to be seen.”

“I know you’ve been eager to attack, sir,” his aide-de-camp said. “Now Count Joseph is giving you your chance.”

I don’t want Joseph giving me anything, Bell thought. I want to take for myself, and to do it with both hands . But he couldn’t explain that to Zibeon; he didn’t know where the major’s ultimate loyalty lay. “I intend to do everything I can,” he said, and thought he was telling the truth. Some of it, anyhow.

As Joseph had ordered, he sent his men forward against the southrons at first light the next morning. He went forward, too, tied onto his unicorn. He’d never yet ordered soldiers to advance without advancing at their head. He had no intention of changing his ways because he was mutilated, either. Major Zibeon did ride at his side, and that was a change-before his wounds, no one would have presumed to do any such thing.

As they pushed toward the main body of the southrons, they overran a few pickets and sentries and scouts wearing gray. A few others escaped and fled toward their encampment. “So far, so good,” Zibeon said.

“Yes, so far.” Lieutenant General Bell sounded suspicious. “I only hope we’re not moving forward into a trap.”