“Hesmucet has real soldiers with him,” Roast-Beef William said glumly. “They’ll go through raw militiamen quick as boiled asparagus.”
Feeling about ready to burst from frustration, Joseph rounded on his third and newest wing commander and demanded, “How say you, Brigadier Alexander?”
“I want to strike the enemy a blow, as we all do,” Old Straight replied, “but I don’t want to uncover Marthasville to do it. My opinion is, we would do best to fight close to the city.”
“But staying close to Marthasville with our whole force means the southrons can maneuver as they please, while we’re trapped here,” Joseph protested. “They can swing all the way around the city and surround us, by the gods.”
“And in doing so, they will weaken themselves, and we can attack,” Bell said.
“I am looking for the chance to attack,” Joseph the Gamecock said. “Holding the city with the militia will give us that chance.”
“What does King Geoffrey think of this plan?” William asked.
“It appalls him,” Lieutenant General Bell replied.
“How do you know that?” Joseph inquired. Instead of answering, Bell took a swig of laudanum. Joseph the Gamecock went on, “I still think we can bring it off, and I still think it would be good for our strategic position if we did. And so, gentlemen, I want you to be prepared to move north and west of Marthasville whenever I give the order.”
“It is another retreat!” Bell groaned. “I knew it. By the Thunderer’s prong, sir, you’re abandoning Marthasville to the tender mercies of Hesmucet and his stinking southrons. I don’t care to be a part of any such maneuver. I think it’s extremely ill-advised-and that’s the best thing I can say about it.”
“With all respect, sir,” Roast-Beef William told Joseph, “I must say that, in this instance, I agree with Lieutenant General Bell.”
He’d never said anything like that before. Hearing it from him infuriated Joseph. Eyes and voice deadly cold, he demanded, “Are you refusing my orders, Lieutenant General? I thought you of all people understood subordination.”
“I do, sir. I refuse you nothing,” Roast-Beef William said unhappily. “But I do not refuse you my opinion, either. And my opinion is and remains that we would do better to fight around Marthasville.”
“Very well,” Joseph the Gamecock said. It wasn’t very well; it was nowhere close to very well. But Roast-Beef William had indeed spoken respectfully, and it was indeed part of a subordinate’s duty to give his superior his unvarnished views. Fuming still, Joseph rounded on Alexander the Steward. “Will you follow me without carping, Brigadier?”
“Certainly, sir, if you require it,” Old Straight replied. “I would be lying, though, if I said I liked your plan.”
“Well, what else can we do?” Joseph the Gamecock asked, aiming the question as much at malicious fate as at his wing commanders. “If we stay here and let Hesmucet maneuver as he pleases, we are liable to lose not just Marthasville but the whole Army of Franklin.”
“We need to attack,” Bell insisted.
“You keep saying that, like a parrot trained to do it in the hope of getting a sunflower seed,” Joseph said. As Bell glared at him, he went on, “Well, Pretty Poll, I have news for you: when the enemy’s army is twice the size of your own, you had better have a gods-damned strong position before you go and bite him on the leg.”
“If you don’t attack, what point to having an army at all?” Bell asked.
“Have you ever heard of defending?” Joseph the Gamecock said.
“Indeed, sir.” Bell nodded. “You have defended Peachtree Province so well, the whole southern half of it no longer needs to be defended at all.”
“If you’d thrown the army away, as you always seem to want to do, we wouldn’t still hold Marthasville,” Joseph said.
“You always think we will lose if we attack,” Bell retorted. “If we attack and win, we hurl the southrons back and we go forward.”
“True-if,” Joseph the Gamecock agreed. “Long odds, though, when we’re so outnumbered. That’s what you keep refusing to see.”
“They’re only southrons,” Bell said contemptuously. “We can lick as many of them as we need to lick.”
“It isn’t so,” Roast-Beef William said. “I must tell you, Lieutenant General, that is not so. They are Detinans, too. We have the advantage over them, perhaps, but not to the degree you imply.”
“If it were so,” Joseph added, “we could have won this war a long time ago. It lacks a good deal of being won right now, or else I’ve been living a nightmare for the past three years and more.”
“If we have the advantage over them, why are we running away?” Bell asked.
“By the gods, you hardheaded jackass, we are not running away,” Joseph the Gamecock ground out. “We’re looking for room to maneuver.”
“We’ve been `looking for room to maneuver’ ever since Borders,” Bell said. “When you had it, you didn’t use it. Now that you haven’t got it any more, you want it.”
“That is uncalled for,” Roast-Beef William said.
“This whole campaign, such as it is, is uncalled for,” Lieutenant General Bell said.
“You have obstructed me every step of the way,” Joseph said furiously. “If this army is having difficulties, they are at least half-at least half, sir-of your making. For you to blame me now is like… is like… I don’t know what it’s like, but I know it’s vile. If the stone that smashed your leg had smashed your miserable rock of a head in its place, this army would be better off today.”
“Sir, that is also uncalled for,” William said, and Alexander the Steward nodded.
“I see,” Joseph said. “It’s fine for him to insult me and revile me, but I’m a wicked monster if I pay him back in the same coin. Ah, yes. Yes, indeed. That makes perfect sense.”
Something close to desperation in his voice, Roast-Beef William said, “Quarrels only help the enemy, sir. They can afford them, because they outnumber us. We can afford nothing at all.”
Joseph was too angry to be placated so easily. “Oh, of course we can! Just ask him.” He pointed to Bell. “We can afford to charge right out and attack the southrons, and five minutes later they’ll all be skedaddling for the Highlow River just as fast as they can. Won’t it be wonderful?”
Bell had faced a lot of nasty weapons in this war, but he didn’t stand up to sarcasm very well. “That’s not what I said,” he protested, his voice breaking like a youth’s.
“No, eh?” Joseph said. “It must be what you meant, though. Unless we win a victory like that, what’s the point of attacking Hesmucet at all?”
“You deliberately twist all my words,” Bell said.
“You deliberately twist all my deeds,” Joseph the Gamecock answered. Bell started to say something, but Joseph forestalled him: “Get out of my sight. You make me sick.”
“Sir-” Alexander the Steward began.
But Joseph had no patience for Old Straight, either. “And you,” he said. “King Geoffrey gave me this command to save his kingdom. By the Thunderer’s brass balls, I’m going to do it, too-as long as nobody gets in my way. I am sick to death of people telling me what I can do and what I can’t. I command here, and my orders shall be obeyed, or I’ll know the reason why. Have you got that?”
“Yes, sir,” Brigadier Alexander said. “You would sooner do it your way than do it right, if I understand you correctly.”
Maybe he’d thought he would shame Joseph the Gamecock. Maybe he would have, too, at another time. Not now. Now, Joseph just nodded. “That’s exactly right, Brigadier. I’m going to do it my way, and I’ll take my chances. You are dismissed.” He nodded to Roast-Beef William. “You, too.”
He could get rid of his wing commanders, but that didn’t bring him the satisfaction he craved. He’d hardly got back to the house he was using for a headquarters before a sentry stuck his head in to say, “Sir, Count Thraxton has ridden down from Marthasville. He’d speak to you, if you would.”