Harry Turtledove - Marching Through Peachtree

“True enough, true enough. We’re a band of brothers, is what we are-and brothers fight like cats and dogs.”

“Don’t we just?” Hesmucet eyed his second-in-command. “If you were in Joseph the Gamecock’s boots, what would you do?”

“About what he’s doing,” George said. “I don’t know what else he could do, not with an army barely half the size of ours. He’s managed to make a nuisance of himself, hasn’t he?”

“Yes.” Hesmucet admitted what he could hardly deny. “Gods damn it, though, we need Marthasville. King Avram needs it. The whole kingdom needs it, to show we’re winning the war.”

“We go forward,” Doubting George said. “One lurch at a time, we do go forward. And Marshal Bart has Duke Edward of Arlington and the Army of Southern Parthenia pushed a lot farther north in Parthenia than they really want to be.”

“So he does,” Hesmucet said, “though the latest, I hear, is that Earl Early the Jubilant has managed to get loose and come south for an attack on Georgetown.”

“D’you think he can take the place?” George asked.

“I doubt it,” Hesmucet answered, and his wing commander smiled. Hesmucet went on, “Have you seen the works around Georgetown, Lieutenant General? They make the ones Joseph the Gamecock has thrown up here look like sand castles by comparison. King Avram set his artificers to work as soon as the war against Geoffrey began, and I don’t believe they’ve slowed down from that day to this.”

“No doubt you’re right, sir, but if all the soldiers are up in Parthenia with Marshal Bart…” Doubting George’s voice trailed away. “The best fortress in the world isn’t worth a counterfeit copper without some men inside it.”

“Avram can fill the forts up with clerks from all the Georgetown offices and hold off Earl Early till Marshal Bart has time to bring some real fighting men down from his own lines,” Hesmucet said. “With those works, even clerks with crossbows would do for a little while.”

“Here’s hoping it doesn’t come to that,” George said, and then, thoughtfully, “I wonder what sort of works Joseph the Gamecock has waiting for us outside of Marthasville itself.”

“We’ll find out, I hope.” Hesmucet smiled a wolfish smile. “And, once we cross the Hoocheecoochee, all the glideways to the east, to Dothan and the Great River, fall into our hands, even if we can’t break into the city yet.”

“That’s true. I hadn’t thought of it quite so, but that’s true,” George said. “And false King Geoffrey won’t be very happy about it, either.”

Hesmucet clasped both hands to his breast in false and exaggerated sympathy. George laughed out loud. “Too bad. My heart’s just breaking,” Hesmucet said in syrupy tones.

George laughed again, louder and harder. “If we do cross the Hoocheecoochee,” he said, “poor Geoffrey’s going to have kittens.”

“So he will,” Hesmucet agreed. “I told you once: what Geoffrey calls a kingdom is nothing but two armies and a lot of wind and air. Once we get over the river, we’ll show all of Detina how empty the north is.”

“May it be so. I think it will be so,” George said.

“We’ll make it so,” Hesmucet said. “Once we’re over the river, Joseph the Gamecock won’t be able to keep us from making it so.”

“Only trouble is, we’re not over the river yet,” George said.

“I think Alva can let us get men down to it even if we can’t manage any other way,” Hesmucet replied. “And once we reach it, we’ll cross it. Our artificers can throw a bridge over it in a hurry. Then”-he grinned-“we see what happens next.”

“Corporal Rollant!” Lieutenant Griff called.

“Yes, sir!” Rollant said proudly. He was sure he felt better about being promoted to the lowest grade of underofficer than Bart did about rising from general to marshal. For a blond to get stripes on his sleeve in King Avram’s army, to gain the privilege of giving orders to free Detinans…

“Take up the standard, Corporal!” Griff said.

“Yes, sir!” Rollant repeated, even more proudly than before. The company’s flag and its heavy pole seemed to weigh nothing at all as he lifted them from their stand. The soldiers saluted the standard as if worshiping a god. And so they are, he realized. This flag means Detina to them, and they reverence the kingdom as much as the Lion God or the Thunderer .

His mouth quirked up in what wasn’t really a grin, no matter what it looked like. They certainly wouldn’t risk their lives to free blonds from their-from our-bondage to the land, he thought. Avram hadn’t much wanted to fight the northerners over serfdom. He’d chosen war only when Geoffrey tried to set up his own kingdom in the north.

Horns blared. “Form up!” Lieutenant Griff screamed. The company he led hurried to obey. Rollant started to go to his own place, next to Smitty and Sergeant Joram. He’d taken that place ever since accepting King Avram’s silver on enlisting. But it wasn’t his any more. Now he belonged at the van of the company, so he could use the standard to signal which way the men should go.

The honor was not unmixed. For one thing, standard-bearers, by the nature of their job, made prominent targets. If the last fellow who carried the flag hadn’t got shot on Commissioner Mountain, Rollant wouldn’t have had it now. And, for another, he felt eyes on him as he took his place alongside Griff and the company trumpeter. Not all of his comrades were happy to see a blond promoted above them. Too bad, Rollant thought. If they’d wanted to save the standard, one of them could have done it himself .

Voice cracking as it often did, Lieutenant Griff said, “Men, our company-and Colonel Nahath’s regiment as a whole-have the distinction of probing up towards the Hoocheecoochee. This is a privilege granted only a few regiments of footsoldiers. The unicorn-riders are doing much more of it. But Lieutenant General George knows what we can do. He’s seen us fight. By the gods, he’s fought alongside us, on Merkle’s Hill by the River of Death. We’ll show him we deserve this chance he’s giving us, won’t we?”

“Yes, sir!” the men roared.

Rollant shouted as loud as anybody else. He had to, for appearance’s sake. But that didn’t mean he was excited about getting the chance to try to approach the Hoocheecoochee. He knew what Lieutenant Griff meant, no matter what the young officer actually said . What Griff meant was, What we’re going to try probably won’t work, but it does have a fair chance of getting a lot of us killed .

He looked toward Smitty. The farmer’s son caught his glance, shrugged ever so slightly, and raised an eyebrow, as if to say, What can you do? Smitty had been through a lot. He had no more trouble uncovering Griff’s hidden meaning than Rollant did.

Once Griff stood aside, Colonel Nahath harangued the whole regiment. His speech was smoother and more polished than Griff’s, but amounted to the same thing. Rollant felt like shrugging, too, but couldn’t, not standing out there in front of everybody. Nahath had got his orders, and was having to make the best of them. Rollant hoped there was a best to be made.

After the regimental commander stepped back, the horns blared again. “Forward!” Lieutenant Griff shouted, along with all the other men in charge of companies. Forward his own company went. Forward Rollant went at his head.

The day was hot and muggy. At this season of the year, any day in the north of Detina was likely to be hot and muggy. Flies buzzed and bit. With the flagstaff in his hands, Rollant couldn’t slap them away so readily as he had had before. His new rank and station had some difficulties he hadn’t thought about.