Read Online Century of the Soldier: The Collected Monarchies of God (Volume Two) by Paul Kearney - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Paul Kearney
Tags: Fantasy
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a long, awkward silence. Clearly, Marshal Barbius was not a believer in small talk. He seemed preoccupied, as if half his mind were elsewhere. His adjutant, too, seemed subdued, even for a Fimbrian. It was as if the two of them were burdened with some secret knowledge they dare not share.
"It only remains for me then to wish you Godspeed and good travelling," Barbius said finally. "I rejoice to see you both in such good health, after your travails. I hope you find journey's end what you wish it to be. I hope we all do..." He stared into his cup. In the dim tent the wine seemed black as old blood.
"I will not keep you from your sleep then, Fathers. That is all." And he turned from them to the table, dismissing them from his mind. Joshelin and Siward filed out silently. Avila looked furious at the curt dismissal, but he drained his wine, muttered something about manners and followed the two soldiers outside. Albrec lingered a moment, though he was not sure why he did.
"Is the news from the dyke bad, Marshal?" he asked.
Barbius turned as though surprised to find him still there. "That is a matter for the military authorities of the world," he said wryly.
"What should I say to the Torunnan authorities if they ask me about it?" Albrec persisted.
"The Torunnan authorities are no doubt well enough informed without seeking the opinion of a refugee monk, Father," the younger adjutant, Formio, said, but he smiled to take the sting out of his words, un-Fimbrian in that also.
"The dispatches I send out daily will have kept them up to date," Barbius said gruffly. He hesitated. There was some enormous pressure on him; Albrec could sense it.
"What has happened, Marshal?" the little monk asked in a low voice.
"The dyke is already lost," Barbius said at last. "The Torunnan commander Martellus has ordered its evacuation."
Albrec was thunderstruck. "But why? Has it been attacked?"
"Not as such. But a large Merduk army has arrived on the Torunnan coast south of the mouth of the Searil River. The dyke has been outflanked. Martellus is trying to extricate his men - some twelve thousand of them, all told - and lead them back to Torunn, but he is being caught between the two sides of a vice. He is conducting a fighting withdrawal from the Searil, pressed by the army that was before the dyke, whilst the new enemy force comes marching up from the coast to cut him off." Barbius paused. "My mission as I see it has changed. I am no longer to reinforce the dyke, because the dyke no longer exists. I must attack this second Merduk army and try to hold it off long enough for Martellus's men to escape to the capital."
"What is the strength of this second army?" Albrec asked.
"Perhaps a hundred thousand men," Barbius said tonelessly.
"But that's preposterous!" Albrec protested. "You have only a twentieth of that here. It's suicide."
"We are Fimbrian soldiers," Formio said, as if that explained everything.
"You'll be massacred!"
"Perhaps. Perhaps not," Barbius said. "In any case, my orders are clear. My superiors approve. The army will move south-east to block the Merduk advance from the coast. Mayhap we will remind the west how Fimbrians conduct themselves on the battlefield."
He turned away. Albrec realized he knew he was ordering his men to their deaths.
"I will pray for you," the little monk said haltingly.
"Thank you. Now, Father, I wish to be alone with my adjutant. We have a lot to do before morning."
Albrec left the tent without another word.
Five
P OWER IS A strange thing , the lady Jemilla thought. It is intangible, invisible. It can sometimes be bought and sold like grain, and at other times no amount of money on earth can purchase it.
She had some power now, some small store of it to wield as she saw fit. For a woman in the world she had been born into, it was impossible to possess the trappings of power as men possessed them. Armies, fleets, cannon. The impedimenta of war. It was said that the most powerful woman in the
"It only remains for me then to wish you Godspeed and good travelling," Barbius said finally. "I rejoice to see you both in such good health, after your travails. I hope you find journey's end what you wish it to be. I hope we all do..." He stared into his cup. In the dim tent the wine seemed black as old blood.
"I will not keep you from your sleep then, Fathers. That is all." And he turned from them to the table, dismissing them from his mind. Joshelin and Siward filed out silently. Avila looked furious at the curt dismissal, but he drained his wine, muttered something about manners and followed the two soldiers outside. Albrec lingered a moment, though he was not sure why he did.
"Is the news from the dyke bad, Marshal?" he asked.
Barbius turned as though surprised to find him still there. "That is a matter for the military authorities of the world," he said wryly.
"What should I say to the Torunnan authorities if they ask me about it?" Albrec persisted.
"The Torunnan authorities are no doubt well enough informed without seeking the opinion of a refugee monk, Father," the younger adjutant, Formio, said, but he smiled to take the sting out of his words, un-Fimbrian in that also.
"The dispatches I send out daily will have kept them up to date," Barbius said gruffly. He hesitated. There was some enormous pressure on him; Albrec could sense it.
"What has happened, Marshal?" the little monk asked in a low voice.
"The dyke is already lost," Barbius said at last. "The Torunnan commander Martellus has ordered its evacuation."
Albrec was thunderstruck. "But why? Has it been attacked?"
"Not as such. But a large Merduk army has arrived on the Torunnan coast south of the mouth of the Searil River. The dyke has been outflanked. Martellus is trying to extricate his men - some twelve thousand of them, all told - and lead them back to Torunn, but he is being caught between the two sides of a vice. He is conducting a fighting withdrawal from the Searil, pressed by the army that was before the dyke, whilst the new enemy force comes marching up from the coast to cut him off." Barbius paused. "My mission as I see it has changed. I am no longer to reinforce the dyke, because the dyke no longer exists. I must attack this second Merduk army and try to hold it off long enough for Martellus's men to escape to the capital."
"What is the strength of this second army?" Albrec asked.
"Perhaps a hundred thousand men," Barbius said tonelessly.
"But that's preposterous!" Albrec protested. "You have only a twentieth of that here. It's suicide."
"We are Fimbrian soldiers," Formio said, as if that explained everything.
"You'll be massacred!"
"Perhaps. Perhaps not," Barbius said. "In any case, my orders are clear. My superiors approve. The army will move south-east to block the Merduk advance from the coast. Mayhap we will remind the west how Fimbrians conduct themselves on the battlefield."
He turned away. Albrec realized he knew he was ordering his men to their deaths.
"I will pray for you," the little monk said haltingly.
"Thank you. Now, Father, I wish to be alone with my adjutant. We have a lot to do before morning."
Albrec left the tent without another word.
Five
P OWER IS A strange thing , the lady Jemilla thought. It is intangible, invisible. It can sometimes be bought and sold like grain, and at other times no amount of money on earth can purchase it.
She had some power now, some small store of it to wield as she saw fit. For a woman in the world she had been born into, it was impossible to possess the trappings of power as men possessed them. Armies, fleets, cannon. The impedimenta of war. It was said that the most powerful woman in the
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