Heirs of Empire

“All right. There was a spit of solider ground running northeast from there. If there’s a way through this glop at all, we’ll have to go that way. Turn the column around and stop its head there. While you’re doing that, I’ll see if Lady Sandy can pick a better path than I can.”

“At once, My Lord,” Tibold agreed, and turned to slosh back along the halted column while Sean activated his com.

“Sandy?” he subvocalized.

“Yes, Sean?” She was trying to hide her own anxiety, he thought, and made his own tone lighter.

“We’re gonna have to backtrack, kid.”

“I know. I had a remote tuned in.”

“In that case, you know where we’re headed, and I’m one dumb asshole not to have had you checking route for us already.” He sighed. “Tune up your sensors and see if you can map us a way through this slop.”

“I’m already working on it,” she said, “but, Sean, I don’t see a fast way through it.”

“How bad is it?”

“From what I can see, it’s going to take at least another full day and a half,” she said in a small, most un- Sandy-like voice.

“Great. Just fucking great!” Sean felt her flinch and shook his head quickly, knowing she was watching him through her remotes. “Sorry,” he said penitently. “I’m not pissed at you; I’m pissed at me. There’s no excuse for this kind of screwup.”

“No one else thought of it, either, Sean,” she pointed out in his defense, and he snorted.

“Doesn’t make me feel any better,” he growled, then sighed. “Well, I guess standing around pissing and moaning won’t make it any better, either. Let’s get this show back on the road—such as it is!”

He turned to slog off in Tibold’s wake, and the swarming clouds of gnats whined about his ears.

* * *

Even Sandy’s estimate turned out to have been overly optimistic. What Sean and Tibold had envisioned as a twelve-hour maneuver consumed over three of Pardal’s twenty-nine-hour days, and it was an exhausted, sodden, mud-spattered column of infantry that finally crawled out of the swamp proper into the merely “soft” ground south of it. Thank God Tibold had warned him against even trying to bring artillery through that muck, Sean thought wearily. Their five hundred dragoons had lost a quarter of their branahlks, and Lord only knew what would have happened to nioharqs. Given his druthers, he decided, he’d take Hannibal’s elephants and the Alps over a Pardalian swamp and anything.

Under the circumstances, he’d eased the “no miracles” rule, and Sandy and Harry had been busy using cutters to bring in fresh food. The cargo remotes had stacked it neatly to await his column’s arrival, and the troops gave a weary cheer as they saw it. There was even a little wood for fires, and the company cooks quickly got down to business.

“Sean?”

He turned and flashed a mud-spattered smile as Sandy walked out of the gathering evening. His officers and men saw her as well, and she waved to them as a soft, wordless murmur of thanks rose from them. She made a shooing gesture at the waiting rations, and the troops grinned and returned to their tasks as she crossed to Sean. Unlike her towering lover, she was spotless. Not even her boots were muddy, and he shook his head.

“ ’Ow can you tell she’s an angel?” he murmured. ” ’Cause she’s not covered wi’ shit loike the rest of us!” he answered himself.

“Very funny.” She smiled dutifully, but her eyes were worried, and he raised an eyebrow.

“The reinforcing column got on the road a day sooner than Ortak expected,” she said softly in English, “and it’s moving faster than we expected. They’ll reach Malz within four or five days.”

“Wi—?” Sean stared at her, then clamped his teeth hard. “And just why,” he asked after a moment, “is this the first I’m hearing of this?”

“It wouldn’t have done a bit of good to worry you with it while you were mucking around in the swamp,” she replied more tartly. “You were already going as fast as you could. All you could have done was fret.”

“But—” He started to speak sharply, then made himself stop. She was right, but she was also wrong, and he controlled his tone very carefully when he went on. “Sandy, don’t ever hold things back on me again, please? There may not have been anything I could have done, but as long as I’m in command, I need all the information we’ve got, as soon as we get it. Is that understood?”

He held her eyes sternly, and her nostrils flared with answering anger. But then she bit her lower lip and nodded.

“Understood,” she said in a low voice. “I just—” She looked down at her hands and sighed. “I just didn’t want you to worry, Sean.”

“I know.” He reached out to capture one of her hands and squeezed it tightly until she looked up. “I know,” he said more softly. “It’s just that this isn’t the time for it, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed, and then her brown eyes suddenly gleamed. “But if you really want to know everything, then I suppose I should tell you what Harry’s been up to, too.”

“What Harry’s been up to?” Sean looked speculatively down at her, then raised his head as Tibold called his name. The ex-Guardsman pointed to the meal preparations, and Sean waved for the others to go ahead without him and returned his attention to Sandy. “And just what,” he asked in a deliberately ominous voice, “has my horrid twin done now?”

“Well, it turned out fine, but she decided to tell Stomald the truth.”

“My God! I turn my back for an instant, and all of you run amok!”

“Oh, no! Not us—you’re the one who’s been running around in the muck!” Sandy gurgled with laughter as he winced, then sobered—a little. “Besides, Harry had an excuse. She’s in love.”

“Think I hadn’t figured that out weeks ago? How’d Tamman take it?”

“Quite well, actually,” Sandy said wickedly. “I wouldn’t say he’s completely over it, but I did overhear a couple of the Malagoran girls sighing over how handsome ‘Lord Tamman’ is.”

“Handsome? Tam?” Sean cocked his head, then chuckled. “Well, compared to me, I guess he is. You mean he’s, um, encouraging their interest?”

“Let’s just say he isn’t discouraging it.” Sandy grinned.

“Well, in that case, I suppose you’d better catch me up on all the gossip before I join the others for supper.”

“Why? I could brief you while you eat, Sean. None of them understand English.”

“I know that,” Sean said. He picked out a relatively dry spot, spread his Malagoran-style poncho over it, and waved her to a seat upon it. “The problem, dear, is that I can’t eat very well while I’m laughing. Now give.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

“All right, then. Everybody clear on his orders?”

Sean looked around the circle of faces in the late afternoon light. He and Tibold had spent weeks convincing their officers to ask questions whenever there was anything they didn’t understand, but, one by one, each captain nodded soberly.

“Good!” He folded the map with deliberate briskness, then turned and gazed northeast to the screen of dragoons deployed across his line of advance. Beyond them, he could just see a village that was supposed to have been totally evacuated … and hadn’t been.

Sandy’s warning that there were still people about had come in time—he hoped. He’d sent flanking columns of dragoons forward, then had them curl back in from the east, and they seemed to have caught all the villagers before anyone got away to Malz.

It was the ninth day since he’d set out for Erastor. By his original estimate, he should already have been in