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It happened all the time, yes. Why did it have to happen this time in particular? In spite of everything, Victor laughed at himself. How many men had said that before him? Any man who'd ever had it happen when he lay down with a woman not his wife- and that was just for starters.

What was he going to do? "What am I going to do?" he asked out loud. No answer came to him from the empty air. The only folk who found answers there were prophets and madmen. If he was going to come up with any answers, he'd have to find theminside himself.

He couldn't even go talk with Monsieur Freycinet and see if they could hash out something. No, he'd have to do it by letter. Travel back and forth would make the conversation long and slow. And, if Freycinet proved no gentleman, he could publish Victor's letters to the world. That would embarrass not only Victor personally but also the Atlantean cause.

Well, no help for it. Even more reluctandy than if he were visiting a dentist, Victor inked a pen. He did the best he could, offering to buy Louise and set her free in whichever northern state she preferred. After a little more thought, he added in the price the child-his child!-would likely bring. He could afford it He thought he could, anyhow. Meg would surely notice the hole this price made in their accounts… but what could you do? He'd worry about that when it happened. This had already happened.

He'd never sealed a letter with such care. The last thing he wanted was for anyone, even Blaise, to find out about this. The sealed sheet headed south aboard the first ship bound from Hanover to Cosquer.

Long before Victor could hope for a response-long before that ship could possibly have got to Cosquer-he had to lead the Atlantean army out against the redcoats. The chance of dying in battle had never looked so attractive before.

Redwood Hill remained in Atlantean hands. Victor took the Atlanteans out into open country just south of it then swung northwest toward the closest English positions. After (he first couple of days in the field, thoughts of Louise-and of Marcel Freycinet- didn't fill his every waking moment He had other things to worry about.

Messengers from the Marquis de la Fayette told him the French regulars were moving, too. Maybe Cornwallis captured some of the marquis' messengers. Maybe his loyalist auxiliaries kept him well informed about what his opponents were up to. Or maybe he simply had a good sense of what he would have done were he commanding them. He maneuvered skillfully, doing everything he could to keep them from joining forces.

De la Fayette pressed hard from the west. Victor pressed… not quite so hard from the east. Victor still worried about protecting Hanover in case things went wrong. De la Fayette didn't care about such things so much: even more than Cornwallis, he enjoyed the advantage of fighting on territory not his own. He could afford to be more aggressive than either his foe or his ally. And, of course, he was so very young-headlong attack came naturally to him.

It worked, too. As the French and Atlanteans pushed towards each other, Cornwallis finally had to draw back toward the north to keep from getting pounded between them. Victor's soldiers finally got to meet the men who'd crossed the Atlantic to aid them against King George. And de la Fayette's soldiers got their first look at the army of the Atlantean Assembly.

After hard marching and fighting, the French weren't so elegant as they had been when they first landed in Atlantis. Their uniforms were patched and torn and faded. But they still marched like men who owned the world-and, even if they hadn't, like men who'd invented close-order drill.

"These-these iss soldiers!" Baron von Steuben cried as de la Fayette's men approached. He might not be grammatical, but he meant every bit of it.

Looking at the ranks of his own army, Victor knew them for soldiers, too. They weren't so perfect on the parade ground as the French regulars, but they marched well. Their accouterments were far more uniform than they had been when the fight against England commenced. Bayonets tipped most Atlantean muskets. And the men had the look of veterans. They were veterans. They eyed their French allies with undoubted respect, but with nothing resembling awe. By now, they had the redcoats' measure. And if they could stand against English regulars, why shouldn't they be able to stand alongside the men from France?

The Marquis de la Fayette rode forward to greet Victor. As he drew near, the Atlanteans smartly presented arms. He did the best thing he might have done: he saluted them. "Three cheers for the Frenchie!" a delighted sergeant cried, and the cheers rang out one after another.

De la Fayette doffed his hat. He saluted Victor Radcliff, who gravely returned the courtesy. "These men are more, ah, presentable than I was led to expect," the nobleman said.

"This is not Terranova. We are not savages in breechclouts and feathers. We do not carry bows and arrows, or hatchets with stone heads," Victor replied with as much dignity as he could muster. "Our troops can give a good account of themselves against a like number of European soldiers. We have given a good account of ourselves against like numbers of English redcoats."

"I beg you to accept my apology, Monsieur le General. If I offended, I assure you it was unintentional," de la Fayette said. "I knew your men could fight before I sailed from France."

He and Victor had been speaking French; Victor was far more fluent in it than de la Fayette was in English. Now Victor loudly translated the French nobleman's comment for the benefit of the Atlantean soldiers. They cheered de la Fayette again.

Grinning in pleasure unashamed, the marquis said, "I had not finished. I knew they could fight, yes, but I had not expected them to present so pleasing an aspect to the eye. More than one European monarch would be delighted to have troops of such an excellent appearance under his command."

Victor translated for his men once more. The Marquis de la Fayette won yet another cheer. Victor Radcliff wagged a finger at him. "I think you're trying to seduce these good fellows away from the Proclamation of Liberty and make them love kings and nobles again."

He was joking. De la Fayette had to know it. All the same, the young Frenchman made as if to push away his words. "Never would I do such a thing! Never!" he exclaimed. "I told you my view of this soon after we met. The Proclamation of Liberty is a shining beacon in the history of the world. And I think its flame will-and should-spread far and wide from Atlantis."

"It's already spread across the Hesperian Gulf to the English settlements in Terranova," Victor said. Truly Thomas Paine was worth his weight in gold-no small praise in the specie-starved United States of Atlantis.

"I understand that, yes. But these settlements are only a small thing," de la Fayette said. They-and their importance to Atlantis- didn't seem small to Victor. Before he could say so, the marquis went on, "I expect the ideals of the Proclamation of Liberty to kindle the kingdoms of Europe before many years go by, Monsieur le General. And not Europe alone, it could be. Like our Lord, the Proclamation of Liberty speaks to all mankind in a voice that cannot be ignored. One day, its words will be heard by the Ottoman Turks, by the Persians, by the Chinese, and even by the hermit kingdom of Japan."

"Well!" Victor said in astonishment. Not even Paine had ever made such claims. Victor bowed in the saddle to de la Fayette. "You are the most… republican noble I ever imagined."

"You do me great honor by saying so," the marquis answered. "That is, perhaps, one reason his Majesty chose me to command this army. He knew me to be more than sympathetic to your cause. And he may have judged it safer for the monarchy in France to send me across the ocean."

"I see," Victor said slowly. So King Louis was trying to solve his own problems as well as Atlantis', was he? From things Victor had heard, he wouldn't have judged the King of France to be so clever. Maybe Louis wasn't. So long as one of his ministers was, what difference did it make?