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That was almost the last coherent observation the lance-major was able to make. No sooner had Nexo cried out his orders than a rock, which the lance-major thought sling-launched, caught him below the rim of our famous helmet, crus.h.i.+ng his face and probably killing him instantly.
The mob screamed triumph. Well-trained troops would have paid no mind to the loss of their officer, but would have automatically obeyed his last command. But the Helms were anything but well trained, and hesitated.
In that fatal moment the Helms were struck hard. Missiles rained, some sling-fired, some thrown hard and accurately. People appeared on the roofs and in the upper stories of the tenements, carrying cobblestones, bricks, anything heavy, and a rain of death came down, sending soldiers spinning from their mounts, their horses rearing crazily, las.h.i.+ng out in their own pain and rage.
Instead of the mob breaking, the Helms broke, turned their horses, and kicked them into a gallop, back the way they'd come, straight into the other three columns, and as the chaos spread the mob charged.
*Sometime during this, Captain Abercorn was pulled from his horse and beaten nearly to death. Two years later, he was discharged from hospital a broken cripple, with no memory of anything that happened that day.
There were men in mat rabble who knew what they were doing-or possibly had been trained by the Tovieti. Men with knives darted close to horses, cutting hamstrings, slicing into bellies, slas.h.i.+ng at animals'
throats, and finis.h.i.+ng their riders when they came off.
The lance-major who told the story had been knocked from his horse by a well-thrown bottle that shattered and took out an eye. He'd had sense enough to roll into an open doorway and play dead in his gore until the melee was over.
C Troop would almost certainly have been wiped out to the last man if someone hadn't "seen" army reinforcements coming from behind, the single other open street in the square, and screamed a warning.
Now it was the mob's turn to panic, and in an instant it was no more than hundreds of fear-crazed commoners, each looking to save his own skin. The irony is there were no reinforcements-whoever'd called for the Helms hadn't thought that more than a single column was needed, and our own commanders didn't think of providing backup. By the time word of the disaster came to our cantonment, it was all over, and there was nothing for me, and the others, to do but rage impotently.
Of the men who rode out of the Golden Helms' barracks that morning, thirty-two returned. Forty-six were dead or dying, and forty-one others were wounded. And this was just the beginning.
The regiment exploded in blind wrath, wanting to ride into Chicherin and kill everyone in sight. Then came fear, as the men thought an entire city had turned against its favorite gilded toy, the Golden Helms.
That fear was almost paralytic. We had five men go absent, which was a rarity. Several legates began talking about transferring to other, more distant posts, or perhaps applying for long leave with their families.
Domina Lehar and too many of the other officers seemed helpless, not sure what should be done.
I requested an audience with the domina, even before the funerals of the men of C Troop, and as politely as I could, which was not very, reminded him that I'd seen real fighting on the Frontiers, as had Lance Karjan and a sprinkling of others. I told him I had personal knowledge that this was not an isolated incident, but he could expect more and most nicely bloodier things to happen.
He looked haplessly about his office, found no suggestions in the statues, plaques, and awards various dignitaries had sent the Golden Helms for dazzling them on parade, and said perhaps I was right.
I should immediately begin drawing up a training program for the Helms. He'd approve it instantly, and we could begin schooling the men in the practical aspects of soldiery.
"Sir," I said. "Can't we just start teaching? Does everything have to be on paper before it's done?" I might as well have suggested we all grow wings and become cavalry of the sky. I saluted, and was about to leave.
"Please hurry," the domina said. "We'll need your expertise soon, I know. And one other thing. That lance you named... Kirgle or Kurtile?"
"Karjan, sir."
"Since he's seen fighting, I want him promoted. Make him a lance-major. No. I want him listened to.
Troop guide."
That was Domina Lehar's idea of desperate action.
I told Karjan about his sudden rise in fortune, and he refused to believe me. I showed him the written order from Domina Lehar, and his face clouded in anger.
"I turned down th' rank slashes when y' offered 'em back in Sayana, sir, an' there's naught that's happened t'change my mind."
"You don't have a choice this time, Karjan. The domina spoke, and by the lance of Isa you'll sew the d.a.m.ned slasheson!"
'Tilnot!"
*I was losing my temper; one of the few competent men I knew was refusing promotion, while all these morons about me were clamoring for greater and greater rank, even though the idea of actual responsibility horrified them.
"You shall!"
Karjan glowered at me and I back. He was the first to look away.
"Ver' well. I'll wear 'em, sir. But I give you m'word I'll go on a bender th' first day we're off an' wreak enough havoc t' lose 'em for good an' all."
"The h.e.l.ls you will!" I bellowed, and a vase on the table beside me tumbled and shattered. Karjan looked stubborn.
"Let me put it like this. Youwill sew on the badges of rank, showing proper respect for the army you joined. Youwill do your duty as a senior warrant until I tell you otherwise. You willnot go on any drunk and you will certainlynot tear up any bars, is that clear?
"You won't for one reason. Because if you do not obey my orders, obey them just as I've told you, I will take you out behind these barracks and only one of us will walk back. I promise you two other things: The one who stays on the ground shall not be me, and you shall certainly need a good time in the hospital before you rejoin the troop. And the minute you're healed we'll go back out and I'll hammer your sorry fool a.s.s again!"
Karjan stared at me, and a look of grudging admiration spread.
"I b'lieve you would do just that. An' I b'lieve you might win."
"Sir."
"Sir."
"Now go get your G.o.ds-d.a.m.ned sewing kit out and stop bothering me, Troop Guide. I have a stupid d.a.m.ned training schedule to write!"
But I got no work done on it mat day.
The orderly messenger knocked on my office door an hour later. I bade him enter, and he told me, eyes wide in awe, that f, with Domina Lehar's compliments, I was to report to the Palace of War in full uniform, two hours hence.
I thought of asking why, but of course the boy, just a fresh recruit, would not have known. I, too, was shocked. The Palace of War was the headquarters for the entire Numantian Army.
"Thank the domina, and I of course shall obey," I said formally. The messenger started to leave.
"Wait. Did the domina tell you who I was to report to?" "Oh. Yessir. Sorry, sir. I was... too excited, sir." "Dammit, lad, the only thing that'll keep you alive in war is repeating your orders just as they're given.
Now, tell me die rest of what the domina said."
The boy gulped and told me I was to report directly to General of the Armies Urso Protogenes.
Then it was my turn to goggle. What couldhe want from a lowly captain?
I couldn't even imagine, but I had less than two hours. I shouted for Troop Guide Karjan to get his a.s.s back in here and help me.
I was at a complete loss.
Not quite two hours later, in dress uniform with an armband of black, which all men of the Golden Helms were wearing after Chicherin, I was ushered into the antechamber of General Protogenes's office.
Waiting for me was Seer Tenedos, which provided a likely explanation as to why I had been summoned. I'd expected the room to be filled with waiting officers, but Tenedos and I were the only occupants, other than an aide who greeted us, asked if we wished anything to drink, then returned to his work.
Tenedos's dress surprised me. I would have expected him to wear elaborate robes such as most seers put on for formal occasions. Instead, he wore breeches and a tunic of light gray, and knee-boots, and a cloak in darker gray with a red silk lining lay on a chair beside him.
"I asked for you to a.s.sist me," Tenedos said, "because I cer- *tainly didn't wish to offend someone as important as the general, and thought someone more familiar with military matters such as yourself would keep me from making any mistakes." He spoke in a quiet tone, but one that could be overheard by the aide, and I knew he was lying. Tenedos wanted me there for some other reason, and I set my mind to trying to puzzle it out But I didn't have the time, because precisely at the time ordered the aide rose and conducted us into General Protogenes's office.
It was exactly what you would expect a long-serving soldier, commander of the armies, a man of great honor, to have. The room was large, with bookcases full of military books. There were maps, swords, countless mementos of battle hanging on the walls. General Protogenes's desk was to one side, and it was small and bare, little more than an officer's field table, clearly showing that this room was occupied by a man of action.
The chamber was well illuminated by a gla.s.s dome in the ceiling, and directly under it was a long conference table. Sitting at its head were two generals: Protogenes and Rechin Turbery. This was to be a very important meeting indeed. Turbery held the t.i.tle of commander of the Nician Army District, which meant he was the second most important man in our army.
Tenedos bowed respectfully, and I saluted and the generals got to their feet.
"Seer Tenedos," General Protogenes's voice rumbled, "I am delighted you could find the time." He gazed at me. "And this is the captain your note said we'd derive great benefits from meeting, eh?"
"I am pleased to meet the both of you," General Turbery said simply, and reseated himself, his eyes coldly measuring us.
General Protogenes was not only the most senior officer in army, but he may have been the most beloved. He returned that love wholeheartedly, always finding time for the complaints of the lowliest soldier. In that love and in his deep affection for Nicias would be his doom. He was a big man, only an inch shorter than I am, but far heavier. His face was cheerily reddened, showing that he appreciated good living and saw no reason others shouldn't do the same.
He was an example to all soldiers, in that he'd come from Wakhijr, a poor desert state, a herder's son with no friends and less money. He'd risen steadily through the ranks and then been given a field commission, quite a rarity at the time. Pro-togenes was not only a good, brave soldier, but also a lucky one. He was wounded many times, never badly, but that was not what made him lucky. Most heroes go unnoticed, with no one of proper rank to witness their bravery. Not so with Proto-genes. Without his ever seeking favor, glory and recognition always came.
He had served in every state of Numantia, in all of its skirmishes and little wars, from the Border States to fighting pirates in the Outer Islands to quelling savages in the mountainous jungles of the East.
His rise to the top had been accelerated when he met Rechin Turbery, after he'd taken over a regiment in the Border States. Protogenes would have been the first to admit he was no cunning tactician-once an enemy was found, he'd have the bugles sound the charge and it was be up and at them with a cheer and the sword, lads.
Turbery was more cunning, and looked it, never attacking a position frontally, not taking heavy casualties when he could outflank or outmaneuver the enemy and bring his troops home safely. He was in his late forties, some twenty years younger than Protogenes. He was slender, balding, sharp-faced, and his gaze seemed to expose your every secret.
The two had made a perfect team, and became fast friends. When Protogenes was promoted to the army's staff, Turbery was promoted to domina and given a regiment of his own on the border between KaUio and Dara. He achieved fame not only for keeping the peace between our two states, but also for leading daring raids against the hill bandits. It was well known and admired by officers that he seemed always to know, and have the correct response, when these "bandits" were mere ruffians, and when they were disguised members of the Kallian Army, who delighted in probing the army they were supposedly a part of to find its weaknesses.
When Protogenes was chosen to head the army, it was quite natural that he'd call for Turbery to join him.
"I asked you here," Protogenes said, "because of this d.a.m.nable trouble. I'm afraid I wasn't able to attend the Rule of Ten's hearings on these Tovieti. My sincere apologies.
"Would it be possible for you to briefly summarize what you told them? And perhaps the captain could add anything you might have overlooked?"
"I would be delighted," Tenedos said, and began talking. After a few moments, I noted that the two generals didn't seem to be paying close attention to what Tenedos was saying. It was as if they already knew what he was telling them. If so, why were we here? I determined to watch my words very closely.
To the broadsheets Tenedos might have glorified our exploits, but now he briefly and exactly summarized the physical facts of what had happened in Sayana and, the week before, along the docks of Nicias. I noticed he did not mention Kutulu by name, but merely referred to him as a responsible officer of the wardens. He finished, and asked if I had anything to add. I said I did not, that he'd done a complete job, and clamped my mouth shut, waiting for the real reason we were here.
It came in seconds, from General Turbery.
"What we are about to discuss must be held under the rose. If that condition is not acceptable, Seer, Captain, then our business is finished. Frankly, the only reason we considered this meeting is because of how highly certain well-thought-of senior officers, who've been impressed by the job you're doing at the lycee, speak of your tact, integrity, and perception."
I looked at Tenedos for guidance. He nodded, and I sat back. "I think I can speak for Captain a Cimabue as well as myself," he said. "You have our vows, on any G.o.d you wish, that what is said here will not be repeated until you give us leave."
The two generals exchanged glances, as if reluctant to begin. Turbery stood after a moment, and began pacing back and forth.
"Our leaders, the Rule of Ten," he began, "seem to feel that this ... trouble, will be swiftly ended, and require no more action than what they've already ordered.
"I hope they are right, as does General Protogenes." "Of course," the older man growled. "d.a.m.ned if anyone wants to think his masters aren't on top of it"
"But I'm of the opinion they might have all their arrows in a single quiver," Turbery went on. "You've given us the facts, sir. Now I ask for your opinion, and your honest a.s.sessment of the threat."
Tenedos took a deep breath.
"Very well, and I know I am going to shock you. But as you said, this meeting is under the rose, and I would wish you to respect that condition as well.
"Briefly, the Tovieti are but a symptom of what's going on. Our country is near collapse, our people floundering around without guidance, without direction. The Rule of Ten are not ruling wisely nor well, and as they stumble about they are sucking all the other inst.i.tutions of Numantia into the mora.s.s with them."
"Harsh words, sir."
"Harsh words, yes. But these are harsh days, and the time is well past for dancing hearts and flowers around a nasty subject," Tenedos retorted.
"Go on," Turbery said, listening intently. General Protogenes looked most uncomfortable.
"Add to this the Tovieti, who are being financed by Chardin Sher. I don't know what other mischiefs he's been causing, but I a.s.sume that his agents are causing as much trouble as possible throughout Numantia."
*"Like father, like son," the old man rumbled. "The old Sher was a pain in the a.s.s as well."
"But Chardin is worse," Turbery said. "Because he's got brains, something his father fortunately-for Numantia and for peace-managed to live without "I'm not sure," he went on, "the situation is as serious as you believe, Seer. But there's no harm in preparing for certain eventualities. So let me ask you what must be done right now?"
"Declare martial law," Tenedos said promptly. "We cannot do that," Protogenes said. "That's a prerogative of the Rule of Ten."
"Is there any reason you can't do everything short of the actual declaration?" Tenedos asked. "By this I mean mobilize the army immediately. Put small roving patrols under the command of battle-experienced officers, in the streets. Move the men out of the cantonments, sir. Put them in, as emergency reinforcements, at the wardens' posts. The people already fear the worst, so seeing the army about, ready for action, should rea.s.sure the faithful and perhaps make the wicked rethink their plans.
"Sometimes a show of force is enough. But that should not be all. You should... sirs, youmust reinforce the army, here in Numantia, and you must reinforce them with the best." "You mean the frontier forces,"
Turbery said. "Just that. Pull Captain & Cimabue's regiment, the Ureyan Lancers, plus the other two Ureyan units ..."
"The Twentieth Heavy Cavalry and the Tenth Hussars," I put in.
"Pull them down here at once. Commandeer swift steamers and have them sail south as soon as possible. If I were in your chair, sir, I'd have a dispatch out within the hour with the order. I'd further bring another ten regiments of the best in, keeping them hidden outside the city to see if the situation worsens." "That would leave the borders undefended," Protogenes objected.
"What does a finger, a hand, a foot, mean if the heart is about to be impaled?" Tenedos said, his voice heated. "When the present emergency is over, even if the worst happens, we'll be able to retake the Frontiers. But if Nicias goes down in chaos... we might as well turn those lands over to Achim Fergana and the other bandits. They'd be no worse off.
"Another thing that must be done immediately, although it is nearly too late. All food supplies must be commandeered and moved to a central location, where they can be well guarded. We can strike at the mob through its stomach, if it's forced to come to us for rations.
"We must also put out foraging parties into the outlying districts, and send word to all cities on the river that we are prepared to pay, in hard gold, for any supplies that can be brought in and given to the proper authorities. If thievish merchants take too great an advantage, we'll simply commandeer what they have at swordpoint.
"The people who stand by us must and shall be fed. Only then will they stand firm behind us."
"You are a man of strong measures, indeed," Turbery said.
"Yet..."
"Sir," Tenedos said, "this is an action thatmust be taken. We serve Numantia. Now is the time to serve her well, not with half-measures or no measures at all."
He knew when to shut up, and silence hung in the large chamber for a long, long time. I dared not move, hardly dared breathe, for fear of breaking the mood he'd created.