Alva came back late the following day. “Well?” Hesmucet barked.
“Well, sir, the wards weren’t so well established as I thought they might be, and Bell is sure about what he wants to do next,” the brash young mage said.
“I’m not surprised they didn’t bother warding him,” Hesmucet said. “They must have figured no one would want to look into such an empty head.” Alva’s laugh was deliciously scandalized. The general commanding went on, “All right-you were able to look around inside the emptiness. What did you find?”
“He intends to strike at Caesar, sir,” the wizard replied. He hesitated, then risked a question: “Uh, is that good news or bad?”
“Depends,” Hesmucet answered. “If we can get there with our whole force before he hits the place, it’s good news for us and bad news for him. If we can’t, it might be the other way round-and he’s ahead of us.”
Alva nodded. “Yes, that would seem to make sense. What do we do if we can’t get there ahead of him?”
“Tell the garrison commander to fight like a mad bastard till we can come up,” Hesmucet said. “Murray the Coarse did it, and he can, too. He’s got a good natural position to defend. Joseph the Gamecock used it to good advantage against us. Now it’s our turn.”
“Can we do it?”
“I aim to find out,” Hesmucet answered.
Commanding the southron garrison was a colonel named Clark the Seamster. When Hesmucet got in touch with him by crystal ball, he said, “Your news is no surprise to me, sir. I’ve just had one of Bell’s men come in under flag of truce demanding our surrender. I’ve seen notes I liked better.”
“Oh?” Hesmucet said. “What does it say?”
“Here, I’ll read it for you.” Colonel Clark paused to set spectacles on his nose, then took a sheet of paper from his breast pocket. “Here we go. Sir: I demand the immediate and unconditional surrender of the post and garrison under your command and, should this be acceded to, all Detinan officers and men will be paroled in a few days. If the place is carried by assault, no prisoners will be taken.” He looked up at Hesmucet over the tops of the spectacles. “Perhaps I should remind you, sir, that I have a couple of regiments of blond troops under my command.”
“You need to know we’re still a couple of days away,” Hesmucet said. “What did you tell him?”
“One moment, sir, and I’ll read you a copy of my answer.” Clark the Seamster found another paper. “Here. I wrote, Your communication of this date just received — which is true; I got it less than an hour ago. In reply, I have to state that I am somewhat surprised at the concluding sentence, to the effect that, if this place is carried by assault, no prisoners will be taken. In my opinion, I can hold this post. If you want it, come and take it.”
“You told Bell that?” Hesmucet said in astonished but delighted disbelief.
“I sure as hells did,” Colonel Clark answered. “I can hold the son of a bitch off, and I’m not about to put men under my command in danger of being murdered or seized and sent back to their old liege lords. They’ll fight like madmen to keep that from happening, and you can count on it.”
“Good for you, Colonel. I admire your spirit. Now I rely on you to make it good.” Hesmucet clapped his hands. He didn’t share Clark’s confidence in the fighting ability of blonds. He remained of the opinion that few of them made good soldiers. But he couldn’t help applauding the bravado the garrison commander had shown.
“I’ll do my best, sir,” Clark said. “I just wonder if the one-legged marvel will even have the nerve to put in a real attack on Caesar. When he tried one at Whole Mackerel, he got his nose bloodied for him.”
“Well, actually, Murray the Coarse was the one who came away from that fight with a bloody face, but I take your point,” Hesmucet said. “Hang on for two days, no matter what he does to you, and then we’ll be there. I swear it by all the gods.”
“I’ll do it, sir. You can count on me,” Clark the Seamster said.
“I do, Colonel.” Hesmucet nodded to the scryer. Colonel Clark’s image vanished from the crystal ball. Hesmucet left the scryers’ tent and shouted for a runner.
“Yes, sir?” one of his bright young men said.
“Go fetch me Marble Bill,” Hesmucet snapped.
“Yes, sir!” The runner saluted and hurried off to find the commander of unicorn-riders. He brought him back even sooner than General Hesmucet had hoped. Pride in his voice, he said, “Here you are, sir.”
“Thank you.” Hesmucet turned to Marble Bill. “Can you get a couple of regiments of riders into Caesar by tomorrow afternoon?”
Marble Bill frowned. “Without resistance from the enemy I could, obviously. It depends on how much we’d have to fight through on the way, so I can’t really give you a certain answer.”
Hesmucet drummed his fingers on the right thigh of his pantaloons. That wasn’t the sort of reply he’d wanted to hear. In a couple of sentences, Marble Bill had shown why he was an indifferent commander of unicorn-riders. Fortunately, Brigadier Spinner on the traitors’ side was no better, and Marble Bill seemed the best officer Hesmucet had. But best wasn’t the same as good, and Hesmucet knew that only too well.
“What do you think?” he asked. “Against what you’re likely to run into along the way, can you get there?”
“If you give the order, sir, I’ll do my best,” Marble Bill replied.
That wasn’t what Hesmucet wanted to hear, either. He wanted to hear, Yes, sir! That failing, he wanted to hear, If I can’t find a way, I’ll make a new one. Those gods-damned traitors can’t stop me.
But Marble Bill was what he had to work with. “Go try. Do everything you can,” Hesmucet told him.
“Yes, sir,” the commander of unicorn-riders answered.
“You’ll be doing the trapped garrison an enormous favor if you succeed,” Hesmucet said, hoping to build a fire under him.
It didn’t work. Marble Bill remained cool. “I told you, sir: I’ll do my best.” He saluted and took his leave.
Having given his orders, Hesmucet could only wait to see what became of them. He muttered in frustration. Here he was, in command of the greatest army in the east, but every bit as dependent on time to show what lay ahead as any other soldier. He wished it were otherwise, but in his years he’d wished for all sorts of things that hadn’t come true.
He got back in touch with Colonel Clark. “They’re prodding us, sir,” Clark said, “but they aren’t putting all their force into it, I don’t think. Either that or they’ve got less force to put than I thought they did.”
“Well, if they aren’t hitting you with all they’ve got, what in the hells are they doing?” Hesmucet demanded.
Clark the Seamster sent him an exasperated look. “Sir, I can hold Caesar, or else I can throw scouts out all over the landscape. To the hells with me if I see how I can do both at once with the little force I’ve got here.”
“I daresay you’re right,” Hesmucet admitted, “but I wish you were wrong.”
“Will I get help?” Clark asked.
“I’ve sent out unicorn-riders under Marble Bill,” Hesmucet said. “If everything goes well, they’ll be there tomorrow. I know I’ll have footsoldiers there the day after. I already told you that.”
“Yes, sir, you did,” Colonel Clark said. “I’m sure the footsoldiers will come. I’ll believe the unicorn-riders when I see ’em.”
Another man with confidence in Marble Bill, Hesmucet thought. But then, in one way or another, unicorn-riders had been disappointing King Avram’s armies ever since the war was new. Why should this campaign prove any different from so many of the earlier ones? Because I’ll scream and fuss till my commanders do it right, Hesmucet thought. He hadn’t quite managed that yet. He’d got to the point where the unicorn-riders-unless they had the misfortune to bump up against Ned of the Forest-didn’t go too egregiously wrong too often. But that still wasn’t the same as turning them into a weapon to match the one that had done the traitors so much good.