Never Sound Retreat Part 13

A murmur of agreement echoed in the crowd.

"Because if we don't fight them there," Kathleen interrupted, "it will be here yet again. Do you want Suzdal once again to be a battlefield?"

"All I know is my boys are lost. I don't give a d.a.m.n about those Nippon people, or anyone else. I just want my boys back. Ain't that what that Bantag Qarth said, that if we left them alone, they'd leave us alone?" As she blurted out the last words, her voice started to break.

Kathleen reached out to put a consoling hand on the woman's shoulder, but the woman stepped back, shaking off the gentle touch.

"End this d.a.m.n war. Just bring our boys home and end it."

There was a murmur of a.s.sent from the crowd.

"It wouldn't stop with that," Kal tried to reason. "Friends, we already argued that in Congress and realized it won't stop. This Bantag devil will come for us all if we don't fight him out on the border. It's fight him there, or on our doorsteps; there is no other choice."

"Let the Roum fight them, then. We protectedthem twice; let them do it now and keep our boys here."

The woman turned and faced Kathleen. "Ever since you folks came, there's been nothing but war. If you'd kept your noses out of our business, we would have lost far less, and the Tugar devils and the others would be gone now."

The crowd fell silent at her words. Stunned, Kathleen was unable to reply.

Kal stood silent in the driving rain, hat in hand, looking up at the angry woman.

"I'll pray for your boys tonight," he said softly. "It's late, let's go home."

He put his hat back on and, turning, left the crowd, which broke into loud arguments among themselves.

Kathleen fell in by his side.

Kal looked at her.

"Are you all right?"

"In a way she's right, you know." Kathleen sighed.

"More than half your people have died in the wars.

It would have been one in ten if there had been no rebellion."

Kal angrily shook his head. "Would you choose slavery and the Pit rather than our freedom?" "Such a cost, though,"Kathleen whispered. He could see the weary look of exhaustion in her eyes. The first of the serious casualties from the front had arrived this morning by hospital train, and she had been working on them all day.

"There's an old saying Andrew taught me," Kal offered. "Victory has a thousand fathers, while defeat is always an orphan."

"Have we been defeated?"

He said nothing, silently crossing himself as he walked in front of the cathedral. Pausing, he turned and walked up the steps of the church and, taking off his hat, stepped inside, Kathleen following.

The midnight service was in progress, Metropolitan Casmar leading the service. Crossing herself and genuflecting to the altar, Kathleen stepped to the back wall, standing by Kal's side.

She looked over at him, unable to voice her fears. Her years with Andrew had taught her much about what some called the art of war. On many an evening she would join Andrew in his upstairs office and he would ramble out his thoughts, his plans, his fears- the elaborate game of move and countermove. She could even remember his consideration of this prospect, of Ha'ark breaking the blockade and trying to land behind one of the two armies on the eastern or southern front, but he had never seriously considered a loss of control of the sea, let alone an outright seizure of the main junction linking both fronts to the west.

Hans had repeatedly warned of that, to expect the unexpected, and now it had come to pa.s.s.

She knew the question was who could bring the most force to bear on that point. If Ha'ark could dig in and stay supplied, the two armies would be worn down in b.l.o.o.d.y frontal a.s.saults. Finally out of ammunition and rations, they would be destroyed. Then nothing could stop Ha'ark from a straight-on advance to Roum . . . and from there to Suzdal and the ending of the dream.

"You know," Kal whispered, "I was approached by several senators this evening. They asked that I consider an envoy to Ha'ark. Let our armies go, and we'll pull back to Roum and concede the rest."

"Merciful G.o.d in heaven," Kathleen hissed, and then remembered where she was and quickly crossed herself. "Are they mad?"

"It was one thing to fight it out here, on our doorstep, as you said. Most of the people who look at that map in Gates's window don't even understand what it is they are looking at, it's nothing but mean ingless lines and scribbles. All they see are trains disappearing east into the unknown."

"And you?" Kathleen asked.

Kal lowered his head. "There are times I wonder."

"d.a.m.n it all, Kal," Kathleen snapped angrily, "I can't believe that four short months ago people were screaming for war after Hans came back, and now this? From the beginning we knew the wars were for all or nothing, that there was no compromise."

"We finally made an arrangement with the Tugars; they have forsaken their old ways, and are gone."

"After we defeated them. There is no other choice."

"How many boys died in your hospital today? How many amputations have you performed?"

She looked at him coldly, and he lowered his gaze, remembering that she had once performed an amputation on him, and saved his life.

"Andrew went back into the trap not to be a hero and die. He went back to get his comrades out, and he expects you to do everything possible to help get them out. He would rather die than surrender to Ha'ark."

"How many will die, though?"

"Perhaps all of us," Kathleen snapped, "and I'll poison my own children before I allow them to be slaves the way you once were."

Suddenly ashamed, she looked up to realize that she had almost shouted the last words, interruptingthe service. Casmar stood at the altar, looking at her, the congregation silent.

He turned back to the altar, finis.h.i.+ng the closing prayers, Kathleen lowering her head in prayer as well. As the service finished Casmar turned away from the altar and stepped down to face the congregation, holding his hands up, motioning for them to stay.

"A final prayer, my friends," he announced, and those heading to the door stopped.

"A prayer for victory, for there is no subst.i.tute for that in this world. This war might rage for years, and we must face that now and make the sacrifices necessary, even our own lives, for to do otherwise means death for our children."

There was a stirring in the group, some looking back again at Kal and Kathleen.

"And another thing. This shall be my last service here, for tomorrow I shall go up to where the fighting is and, if need be, carry a rifle with the boys who tight. I have hidden behind my robes too long. Our friend, our liberator, Andrew Keane is trapped behind enemy lines, and I shall not rest until he and all our boys who are with him are safe."

Making the sign of blessing, he lowered his head, returned to the altar, and went down on his knees.

Stunned, Kathleen pa.s.sed through the congregation as it headed toward the door, Kal following her. Though she knew it was forbidden, she stepped up to the altar anyhow, and placed her hand on Casmar's shoulder. He looked up at her, startled, then smiled.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"I've heard the talk," he said, coming to his feet. "It is the least I can do."

His gaze s.h.i.+fted to Kal.

"I have never made a political suggestion before but I feel compelled to do so now."

"And that is?"

"It would be uncivilized to send back the heads of the Chin amba.s.sadors, they are but trapped in this as well. But tomorrow morning, when the marketplace is filled with people, I would make quite a show of escorting them down to the first train heading east, blindfolded, humiliated, making it very clear"-he paused, looked at the altar, and smiled- "making it very clear they can go to h.e.l.l."

Kal laughed softly.

"That certainly is a piece of advice."

"You need a little bracing, my friend. You cannot go to the front, though I know you want to. I can! Perhaps it might embarra.s.s some of our fat senators who've been crying peace to go as well."

"If you got hurt though, or killed, Your Holiness."

Casmar smiled. "I think the robes of a martyr in a holy war might fit me rather well. You can hire that young Rublev to do a painting of me. I think I'd rather enjoy that."

"Casmar, you're getting a little old for this," Kal chided.

"No older than Hans Schuder. Now you two go and get some rest, I have a little packing to do."

Blessing the two of them, he retreated into the sacristy.

Kathleen genuflected to the altar and left the church. There was still a crowd gathered outside, some on the far side of the square, waiting for a new report from Gates's, others by the church as word spread of Casmar's announcement. Several women came forward, nodding their respect to Kathleen and Kal, saying they were praying for Andrew. She could only nod as she took Kal by the arm and headed across the square, not even bothering to put her umbrella up. The rain was cold, refres.h.i.+ng, hiding her tears.

"So we're in a fix here," Hans said, pointing to the map spread out on the lowered back gate of an artillery forge wagon. His three corps commanders and six of his nine division commanders were gathered around. He looked at each of them in turn, Bates of Second Corps and Watley of the Seventh were both Thirty-fifth Maine men, while Flavius of the Eighth was from Roum. His division commanders were a mix from the old Union Army, Rus and Roum as well. Ketswana, his comrade from the prison and escape, stood by his side, listening carefully.

With the stub of a pencil, Hans traced out the extent of Ha'ark's breakthrough in the north and the suspected positions of the umens pressing up from the south.

In the minutes since they had gathered together there was no longer a need for the kerosene light, the sky to the east brightening with the dawn, though the western horizon was dark with clouds that threatened to bring rain by midday.

Hans sipped the scalding hot tea from his battered tin field cup and munched on a piece of hardtack with a slab of salt pork on top.

"Well, how many of you are for breaking out to the north?"

"Only way I can see it," Bates announced. Using the cigar he had been chewing on, the corps commander traced out the route through the mountains.

"Set up a blocking force on our defensive line. Fallback to our base of supplies, then cut our way north put pressure on that b.a.s.t.a.r.d. O'Donald and his four corps must be pressing back from the east; they'll be bringing up reserves from the west; we'll have him in a three-way vise; we'll be reunited within a week. "That last report said he had maybe three, four umens at most," Watley interjected.

Hans nodded, saying nothing, looking around the other officers. He had trained all of them, some as far back as the drill field in front of the state capital building in Augusta, others before Suzdal and Roum.

Hans looked over at Ketswana. "What do you think?" Ketswana shook his head.

"Go this way," he said, and with his finger he traced a line to the south and west.

Several of the officers chuckled tolerantly at what they thought was the opinion of an amateur, but Hans's steely gaze stilled their voices.

A rumble of rifle fire echoed up the valley, and the group turned to look. A dismounted line of Bantag skirmishers was probing in. Over at the telegraph station, set up under an awning, the key started to clatter, while off to the southwest there came the hollow thump of artillery.

Hans sat waiting patiently, munching on his hardtack while an argument about Ketswana's suggestion broke out. The telegrapher edged through the crowd and handed Hans the message, the group falling silent.

"Report from water tank number twenty-five," Hans announced, and motioned toward the map. The tank was twenty-five miles south of Junction City, where the open steppe started to give way toward the successive series of ridges forming the Green mountains.

"Station shutting down. Bantag land cruiser and three regiments of Bantag infantry approaching." Hans put the message down next to the map. "Boys, if we head north, do you know what will happen? There'll be a dozen pa.s.ses we'll have to fight through. Bates, Watley, you remember the march to Antietam?"

The two nodded. The others in the group looked at the two and back to Hans respectfully. The Battle of Antietam, the first action of the Thirty-fifth Maine, was the stuff of legends, and those few who had been with the Thirty-fifth from the beginning still spoke of it with awe.

"Turner Gap. We was in reserve for that and saw the Iron Brigade go in. You saw it, so did I. A few Reb regiments held up the entire army for the better part of the day before we pushed them out. Boys, It'll be the same thing here. If I was Ha'ark, I'd move as quick as I could, throw half an umen up into the mountains, and lock us in tight."

"Don't we have anything holding the pa.s.ses?"

"Some garrison troops, old men guarding bridges. It'd be a day, two days before we could throw any type of sufficient force up there. We're talking about Ha'ark's elite troops coming on against old men, disabled veterans, rear-line troops. They'll have the pa.s.ses for ten miles into the mountains by tonight, and thirty miles by tomorrow."

The group was silent as he traced the rail line and Its twisting, curving path through the mountains out on the map.

"So, we try and hold along our defensive line while pus.h.i.+ng a corps north? How long did we actually think we'd hold them up out here before having to fall back?"

"A week," Bates ventured.

Hans snorted with disdain. "If we had managed to get the railroad built all the way up to our defensive positions, then run a parallel track the length of the line to move troops back and forth, and on top o that had six corps, maybe we could have stoppep them out here. Our supply head is forty miles back and there won't be any more supplies coming our way. If we hold this position for three days, I'll be amazed; then the squeeze starts. Remember, our plan was to abandon this line if pressed and then hold in the mountains. The problem is our rear has been compromised, they can bottle us up, and we starve Hans continued to trace out the lines as he talked. "Three corps falling back, pressed by a hundred thousand Bantag from the south while we try and cut our way north. Let's say we do cut through. The Bantag won't leave a sc.r.a.p of track from anything they've taken, every bridge will be blown. Grante we'll slow the b.a.s.t.a.r.ds down pursuing us, but they'll,be weaving through every pa.s.s they can find along a 150-mile front while we're withdrawing. Gentlemen Ha'ark has put us in a trap."

Hans sighed and leaned over the map, his whitened knuckles bearing down on it.

"We'll be trapped in the mountains from both sides, supplies running out, and they can finish off at their leisure."

"What about Pat's army, or troops coming up from Roum?" Bates asked.

"Even if Pat can break through," Hans replied wearily, "he'll be forced to drive westward, to try and break through toward Roum. Trying to link up with us won't solve anything other than to put both of us into the trap. Remember, interior lines. Ha'ark can pivot and turn, facing each threat as it develops."

Hans traced out the lines on the map again. "Pat pivots south toward us, Ha'ark cuts him off from Roum. Pat drives toward Roum, Ha'ark can still keep us in the bottle."

"But if we go south, that takes the pressure off Ha'ark," Flavius interjected. "By going north, we'll force him to divert some of his strength to block us."

Hans nodded and took another sip of tea, raising his head to look at the skirmish, which was broadening out across the valley. A mounted Bantag unit of regimental strength came up out of a curtain of ground fog, facing a scathing volley from a dug-in line of infantry.

"True. But again, remember the Antietam campaign, South Mountain. One d.a.m.n Reb division dug In at the pa.s.ses tied up most of the Army of the Potomac for an entire day. All Ha'ark needs to do is divert four or five thousand troops, and we'll bleed ourselves while being the diversion you talked about. Gentlemen, this army is not a diversion. My goal is to have as much of it as possible so it can fight again."

A gentle gust of wind, damp and cooling, swirled through the encampment from the west. Hans raised his head, sniffing the wind. It reminded him of days out on the prairie, the first scent of rain coming down out of the Rockies after endless days of scorching heat.

"And there is one final thing to consider here. Retreating is exactly what Ha'ark expects us to do, what he wants us to do, and d.a.m.n him, that is exactly why we will not do it."

He looked back over at Ketswana, who nodded in agreement.

"We'll continue to retreat today, as if heading back into our defensive lines. At the same time I want all supplies that can be moved loaded up. We should be back to our defensive lines by late afternoon, and the men are to get some rest. As soon as it gets dark we begin to s.h.i.+ft everything west, abandoning th line as we go. The following morning we break ou toward the southwest."

"Back out in the open?" Flavius asked.