“Isn’t that interesting?” Lieutenant General Bell murmured. As his maneuvers against Joseph the Gamecock proved, he wasn’t above political squabbling himself. Having a weapon to use against Thraxton the Braggart might come in handy. You never could tell.
“I want you to know, sir, Lord Ned, he’s dead serious about this business,” Colonel Biffle said. “He said, `Biff, you tell that fellow-if I’m stuck under Spinner, I’ll stay down here in Franklin and give the southrons a hard time all by my lonesome.’ His very words, sir; Lion God claw me if I lie.”
“He would disobey a superior’s direct order?” Bell rumbled ominously.
That didn’t impress Ned of the Forest’s regimental commander, either. “He’s disobeyed a whole great pile of them in his time, Ned has,” he replied, “and usually he’s come off better on account of it.”
“I ought to send him packing for dickering with me like this,” Bell said. Colonel Biffle only shrugged. Plainly, he didn’t care one way or the other. However difficult Ned of the Forest was, Bell knew him to be a genius at handling unicorns. Brigadier Spinner was competent enough, but nobody had ever accused him of genius, and nobody ever would. No matter how grandiose Bell’s visions, he also knew he needed all the help he could get to bring them off. He plucked at his beard. “You may tell Lieutenant General Ned that I will place Brigadier Spinner on detached duty harrying General Hesmucet’s men here in Peachtree Province. Will that satisfy him?”
“Yes, sir,” Biffle said. “I’m sure of it.”
“All right,” Lieutenant General Bell said. “We’ll do it that way, then.” It wasn’t all right. He had every intention of writing King Geoffrey about it. But, while that would put him on the record and make him feel better, Ned of the Forest was unlikely to get excited about it. Ned did what he wanted, not what anyone else wanted. No, Bell didn’t like bargaining with subordinates. But no matter what he liked, he couldn’t afford to lose this one.
Now that Biffle had got what he-or rather, Ned-wanted, he was all courtesy himself. He gave Bell a smart salute and said, “I’ll head back to Lord Ned fast as my unicorn can take me, sir, and we’ll see you in a little more than two days’ time.”
“Good,” Bell said. He hardly noticed Colonel Biffle leave the farmhouse. He was looking south with his mind’s eye, looking south toward the victory that had eluded him in Peachtree Province, looking south toward glory.
Doubting George was gnawing on some pork ribs when Colonel Andy ducked into his pavilion. George’s adjutant looked even more like an irate chipmunk than usual. “Sir,” he said, “there’s a messenger from General Hesmucet waiting outside. You’re ordered to the commanding general’s headquarters at once.”
“Well, if I’m ordered, I should probably go, eh?” Doubting George heaved his bulk off the folding chair where he was sitting. “And if it’s at once, I probably shouldn’t finish dinner first. You’re welcome to the rest of the ribs, Colonel. They’re mighty good.”
“It’s not right, sir,” Andy said in injured tones.
“What? The ribs?” George said. “You might as well eat ’em. Gods only know when I’ll get back.”
“No, not the ribs,” Colonel Andy snapped. “The ribs have nothing to do with it. The orders General Hesmucet’s going to give you-they’re not right.”
“Well, maybe they are and maybe they aren’t,” Doubting George replied. “But, right or wrong, they’re legal and binding, because he’s the commanding general. If I didn’t believe in following legal and binding orders, I’d be fighting for King Geoffrey today, wouldn’t I? And then you’d want to kill me.”
“Never, sir,” Andy said stiffly.
“Oh, of course you would-I’d be the enemy,” George said. “But I’m not, and I don’t intend to be. And so… I’m off to General Hesmucet’s. Enjoy the ribs.” He left before his adjutant could carp any more.
Trouble is, I agree with every word Andy’s saying, George thought as he climbed aboard his unicorn. But, whether he agreed or not, he could obey Hesmucet or he could go home. After a moment, he shook his head. He couldn’t even go home. Over in Parthenia, the traitors still held the estate they’d confiscated.
Hesmucet’s aides and sentries saluted when he rode up to them. When he dismounted, one of them took charge of the unicorn. Another one said, “General Hesmucet will see you right away.”
“Well, good,” George said agreeably, “because I’m going to see him.”
“Hello, George,” Hesmucet said when his second-in-command went into the pavilion. The general commanding quivered-he practically glowed-with excitement. George knew what was coming even before he spoke: “I’ve got it, by the gods! Marshal Bart and King Avram have given me leave to march across Peachtree, tear up everything in the way, and take Veldt.”
“Congratulations, sir,” Doubting George said. “I trust you’ll send me a postcard or two as you go?”
Hesmucet coughed and turned red. “I told you, Lieutenant General, I need someone I can count on in Franklin, to keep Bell from making mischief.”
“Yes, you told me that,” George said. “Just because you told it to me, though, doesn’t mean I have to like it.”
“Whom else could I send?” Hesmucet asked him. “After me, you’re the next best general we’ve got here. I am taking what I think is the most important job ahead of us. I’m leaving you what I think is the next most important job. That strikes me as fair.”
“Who knows?” Doubting George shrugged. “The groom has the most important job on his wedding day, the best man the second-most. But I’ll tell you one thing, sir: the groom has a lot more fun.”
“Not necessarily. No, not necessarily, by the gods,” Hesmucet said. “Remember, you’ll still have Bell to deal with. And so, with any luck at all, we’ll both get to screw the traitors.” He threw back his head and laughed. “You give me so many of your sly little stories. This time, I got in my own punch line.”
“Yes, sir,” George said resignedly. He’d known this was going to happen. Now it had, and he had to make the best of it. “What sort of force will you leave me to defend Franklin?”
“Well, for one thing, you’ll have all the garrisons already posted through the province,” Hesmucet said expansively.
“Oh, happy day,” Doubting George replied in a hollow voice. He knew-and Hesmucet surely knew, too-that the garrisons in Franklin were a case where the whole was much less than the sum of its parts. They were enough to hold northern raiders at bay. Against the Army of Franklin… George didn’t want to think about that. Some of those garrison soldiers hadn’t done any real fighting in years. “What else have you got for me? Something, I hope.”
“Oh, yes.” Hesmucet nodded brightly. “I’ve ordered a good solid division to come west from across the Great River. But they’re a little occupied right now, what with Earl Price of Sterling’s unicorn raid down into ShowMe.”
“Splendid. Nothing plus nothing equals nothing,” Doubting George said. “If I’m going to defend Franklin against a real live army, shouldn’t I have at least part of a real live army of my own?”
“Oh, I suppose so.” By the way Hesmucet sounded, he didn’t really suppose any such thing, but was humoring a willful subordinate. He went on, “I’ll give you half of the wing you’ve been commanding. I intend to take all of Absalom the Bear’s men with me.”
“What?” George felt on the point of bursting with outrage. “Half? And the worse half, at that?”
“Half,” Hesmucet said. “And I’ll give you Hard-Riding Jimmy and his brigade of unicorn-riders, all of them carrying these fancy new quick-shooting crossbows.”
“Hard-Riding Jimmy’s still wet behind the ears,” George said, which was true: the officer couldn’t have been much above twenty-five.