Harry Turtledove - Marching Through Peachtree

“A theoretical possibility is one that might happen but won’t ,” George said. “Sort of on the order of false King Geoffrey’s turning out to be an honest man.” Brannan guffawed. George hadn’t been joking, or not very much. He nourished a fine, flourishing resentment against King Avram’s cousin for confiscating his estates in Parthenia after he chose a united Detina over the call of his province.

Of course, King Avram had confiscated Duke Edward of Arlington’s estates when Edward chose Parthenia over a united Detina. But George was on Avram’s side, so he didn’t fuss about that. Besides, it wasn’t his land.

But when General Hesmucet summoned his wing commanders for a conference, he wasn’t quite so cheerful. “Bell’s turned his unicorn-riders loose, gods damn him,” he said. “They’re going to see how hungry they can make us.”

“Well, it could be worse, sir,” John the Lister said. “He’s still got Brigadier Spinner in charge of his riders, doesn’t he?”

“That’s right.” Hesmucet gestured to his new wing commander. “I know what you’re going to say, Ducky-to the seven hells with me if I don’t. You’re going to say it’d be a lot worse if Ned of the Forest had charge of the traitors’ unicorns.”

“Yes, sir, that is what I was going to say,” John agreed. “Will you tell me I’m wrong?”

“Not for a minute,” Hesmucet said. “Not even for half a minute. What I’m going to tell you is, I’m gods-damned glad you’ve got charge of that wing now, and not Fighting Joseph any more. He’s a brave man, and I’d never say anything less as far as that goes, but he’s a first-class son of a bitch, too, and he never did bother learning much about the traitors’ commanders here in the east.”

“By his record, he never bothered learning much about their commanders in the west, either,” Doubting George remarked.

“I didn’t say that.” Hesmucet grinned. “I may have thought it as loud as I could, but, gods damn it to the hells, I didn’t say it.”

“Sir…” That was Brigadier Oliver, the late James the Bird’s Eye’s successor. “Sir, must you take the names of the gods in vain quite so much?”

He was earnest. He was polite, even plaintive. He was properly subordinate. By all the signs, he even succeeded in embarrassing the commanding general. That impressed George, who hadn’t been sure such a thing was possible. After coughing a couple of times, Hesmucet said, “Well, Brigadier, I will try to do better. I’ve had a ready tongue for a lot of years now, though, so I don’t promise I’ll be perfect, nor anywhere close.”

“The gods do admire effort, sir,” Brigadier Oliver said, as if the Thunderer, or perhaps the Sweet One, had come down from Mount Panamgam beyond the sky to whisper as much in his ear.

No god had ever come down and whispered in Doubting George’s ear. Given a choice, he would have picked the Sweet One for such a duty, but men seldom got such choices, and often got in trouble when they did. Resolutely pushing his mind away from what the love goddess’ whispers might be like, he asked, “What are we going to do if Spinner’s running loose?”

“What do you expect me to do?” Hesmucet replied. “I’ll send Marble Bill out to keep Spinner’s riders off our glideway line.”

It was indeed the obvious answer. John the Lister pointed out what George hesitated to: “Bill’s not the best commander of unicorns ever born.”

“No, but neither is Spinner, so it evens out,” Hesmucet said.

“A point,” Doubting George said after a little thought. “Sure enough, that is a point. The bland fighting the bland, you might say.”

“ You might,” Hesmucet said with a groan. “As for me, I feel the same way about such things as Brigadier Oliver feels about taking the name of the gods in vain.”

“Sir,” Oliver said, “you don’t have a religious duty to punish those who make foolish jokes.”

“No, eh?” Hesmucet rumbled. “Well, gods… bless it, I ought to have such a duty. Every righteous man ought to have such a duty.” He glowered at George. “Don’t you agree, Lieutenant General?”

“Well, sir, actually, I am more inclined toward mercy,” George replied. “My notion is, the gods make note of everything they say. I expect they can deal with these matters in their own good time.”

“Hmm.” Hesmucet gave him a severe look. “Why do I suspect you’re saying that because you’re the culprit here?”

“I haven’t the faintest idea, sir,” Doubting George replied-blandly. “I assure you, I’d do the same for anyone else.”

“Of course you assure me of that,” Hesmucet said. “You assure me of all manner of nonsensical things and gods-damned lies.”

He sounded so pugnacious, Brigadier Oliver spoke up again: “Sir, you would be well-advised to show mercy to those who disagree with you, not to revile them.”

“No.” Where Hesmucet had sounded fierce while teasing George, now he really was. George could tell the difference. Hesmucet pointed north toward Marthasville, saying, “What I aim to do with those who disagree with me-and who disagree with King Avram, gods bless him-is whip them right out of their boots.” He walked over and set a hand on Doubting George’s shoulder. “And that’s why I put up with this son of a bitch in spite of his foolishness. Put him in the field against the traitors and he’s a tiger. Next to that, nothing else matters, not even a little bit.”

Oliver bowed. He was a fussily precise man, as stern with himself as he was with everyone else. “Very well, sir,” he said. “On that, I cannot presume to disagree with you.” Turning, he bowed to George as well. “This, I must say, I find strange, for in our days at Annasville I reckoned the distinguished general likelier to fight on the other side than on ours.”

George had reckoned Oliver an officious prig. He hadn’t been shy about letting the world know what he reckoned, either. He said, “Brigadier, we still disagree about what ought to happen to the serfs in this kingdom. But we agree wholeheartedly that Detina is a kingdom, not two or three or six kingdoms, and that outweighs the rest.”

“Indeed it does,” Oliver said. “Indeed it does. I rejoice that the gods have put a sufficiency of truth into your heart, sir, even if not its very fullest measure, the measure that would make you recognize all of mankind, regardless of outer seeming, as your brethren.”

He still preaches too gods-damned much, Doubting George thought. But he’s a pretty fair soldier himself, even so . Aloud, he said, “I don’t want to recognize all of mankind as my brethren. If I did, I’d miss watching pretty girls, and that would be a shame.”

Hesmucet chuckled. John the Lister laughed out loud. Oliver clicked his tongue between his teeth and looked pained. Oh, dear, George thought. He doesn’t approve of watching pretty girls, either. Well, too bad for him .

Perhaps finding it a good time to change the subject, John the Lister asked General Hesmucet, “Sir, do I understand correctly that we don’t intend to try storming Marthasville?”

“Not right now, anyhow,” the commanding general answered. “We might take it-I think we would take it, but I also think a direct assault would be expensive, and the mourning boxes in the papers down south are long enough already. Let’s see how Bell likes having the place torn down around his ears without his being able to do anything about it.”

“Let’s see how he likes that after false King Geoffrey charged him to hold the town, too,” Doubting George added.

“That did cross my mind, yes,” Hesmucet said. “I wouldn’t want to have dear Geoffrey screaming at me right now. But then you, Lieutenant General, would know more about such things than I do, wouldn’t you?”