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though:
you're not wrong. We just dodged a crossbow quarrel there."
"Yes, sir," his adjutant agreed. "They came forward bold as you please, and in
some numbers, too. You wouldn't have thought they had that much zing left in
'em."
"It doesn't do to count the northerners as licked too soon," George said.
"General
Guildenstern did that, and look what it got him."
"A command out on the eastern steppe fighting the blond savages." Colonel Andy
shuddered. "No, thanks. That isn't what I want to have happen to my career."
"That isn't what anybody wants to have happen to his career," George said.
"It's all very well when it's the only game in town, when we're at peace
everywhere else. But when there's a real war to be fought, you'd better do
everything you can to fight it."
"Isn't that the truth!" Colonel Andy said fervently. He was a colonel because
of the war. As soon as it ended, he would return to his permanent captain's
rank and, very likely, to a dusty fortress out on the steppe. Doubting
George's own prospects were rather better; he was a permanent brigadier as
well as a brevet lieutenant general. But the battle to get a decent post once
the fight with King Geoffrey's men was over might well prove as fierce as any
struggle in this conflict.
It could be worse, he thought. When the war was over and won if it was to be
won the officers who'd abandoned Detina and King Avram for treason and Grand
Duke
Geoffrey would, George assumed, be out of the army for good. He also assumed a
good many of them would go up on crosses for abandoning Detina, but that would
be King
Avram's decision, not his.
He called for a runner. When one of the young messengers came up, he said, "My
compliments to General Hesmucet, and the northerners' attack appears to have
fizzled out like a candle using up the last of its tallow. We can strike at
the enemy here, if he likes, to keep Joseph the Gamecock from shifting forces
to meet our latest flanking move. Repeat that back, if you'd be so kind."
"Yes, sir," the messenger said, and did. At Doubting George's nod, he hurried
away.
Hesmucet himself came riding back to George before the messenger returned. The
commanding general looked over the ground. "Do you know what, Lieutenant
General?"
he said.
"No, sir. Tell me what," George said gravely.
"I'll do just that," Hesmucet said. "Here's what: you're a lucky son of a
bitch. We're all lucky sons of bitches. If the traitors had pressed that
attack, you might've been in a peck of trouble."
"That thought did cross my mind, yes, sir," George said. "But Lieutenant
General
Bell started to come at us and then seemed as though he changed his mind with
his move half begun. Peculiar."
"Bell?" Hesmucet said. "Are you sure it was Bell? He's not in the habit of
pulling back from an attack once he starts one. That bastard will press ahead
come hells or high water, and he hits hard when he hits, too."
"It was Bell no doubt about it," Doubting George replied. "The handful of
prisoners we took are from regiments he commands, and some of our riders saw
him up on his own unicorn. With the short stump he's got on that one leg, he's
not a man you can easily mistake for anyone else."
"I won't say you're wrong, on account of you're gods-damned well right,"
Hesmucet said. "Even so, I can hardly believe it. What made him pull back?"
"You'd have to ask him, sir, because I don't know," George replied. "All we
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had in front of him was the screen of Hard-Riding Jimmy's unicorn-riders. I
wish I'd been able to put some men and engines in amongst the trees on his
flank" he pointed in the direction from which the northerners had come "but I
didn't have time to move any. To tell you the truth, I didn't expect the
traitors to come out of their works."
"Well, now we know they will or they may, anyhow," Hesmucet said. "We'll have
to be more careful." He made a sour face. "That means more entrenching, gods
damn it. I
hate it, but I see no way to escape it."
"So long as we win, sir, I'm not fussy about how," George told him.
The commanding general nodded. "That is well said. It is full of the generous
spirit
I've looked for in you and, I must say, I've found. We may not love each
other, Lieutenant General, but we manage to work together."
"That same thing had crossed my mind a time or two, sir." George stuck out his
hand. General Hesmucet clasped it. George went on, "And what do you require of
me now that Bell's men have withdrawn to their trenches?"
"Be ready to pursue them and to attack if you see the opportunity when they
pull out of those trenches again," Hesmucet replied. "I do not think they can
hold their position long, not with another flanking maneuver even now aimed at
getting into their rear."
"Just as you say, sir." Doubting George saluted.
"We're going to lick these bastards, is what we're going to do," Hesmucet
said.
"False King Geoffrey says he has a kingdom. He may even think he has a
kingdom. What he has is a hollow shell, and, once we show that, this thing he
thinks he rules will shrivel up like a pricked bladder."
"Duke Edward will have something to say about that, too," George said.
"Duke Edward is a lucky son of a bitch. I don't even think he knows what a
lucky son of a bitch he is," General Hesmucet said. "All the battlefields over
in southern
Parthenia are cramped together. The land between Georgetown and Nonesuch works
for him, because it keeps Marshal Bart and whoever else commanded against the
Army of
Southern Parthenia from using our advantage in numbers to outmaneuver Duke
Edward, to hold him with part of our force and get around him with the rest."
"Fighting Joseph tried that," George remarked. "All he got for his trouble was
embarrassed at Viziersville."
"I know, but that was Fighting Joseph." Hesmucet made a dismissive gesture. "A
real general who tried it would have done a hells of a lot better."
Doubting George looked around to make sure Fighting Joseph was nowhere nearby.
He might have failed against Duke Edward of Arlington, but he remained a proud
and touchy man. He also remained nowhere in sight, for which George was duly
grateful.
George said, "Marshal Bart isn't trying to outmaneuver Duke Edward."
"It surely doesn't look that way," Hesmucet agreed. "He fought him in the
Jungle, not far from Viziersville, and then again, and again. He's going to
head for Nonesuch and to hammer Duke Edward flat if he stands in the way long
enough. As I said, he hasn't got the room to maneuver that I do."
"All very interesting, and none of it quite what I expected when this spring's
fighting began," Doubting George said. "I thought you would be the one who
banged straight ahead."
"I might, if I were facing Duke Edward. He's fond of coming out and slugging,"
Hesmucet replied. "Joseph the Gamecock is different. He takes these defensive
positions and invites you to bloody your nose on them. I'm not the only one
shaping this campaign, and that's worth remembering."
"You're right, sir, and I hadn't thought it through." George nodded
respectfully to
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Hesmucet. Sure enough, as with Bart, there was more to the man than met the
eye. "You and Duke Edward would add up to something different from you and
Joseph the
Gamecock."
Hesmucet nodded. "That's right. That's just right. And Joseph and Bart would
be different from what Duke Edward and Bart are turning into. The commanders
on both sides make things what they are. As a matter of fact, I don't mind
this game of maneuver so much as I thought I would."
"Really?" George raised an eyebrow. "Why's that, sir?"
The smile Hesmucet smiled was particularly nasty. "Because it lets me move
through country that's never been fought over before. This far north, the
barons and earls and counts supposed they were safe. They didn't think any
southron army could ever come all the way up here. Now they're seeing they
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