Conqueror

forcing men in like water into a splash-hole. All along the ridge overlooking the narrow ledge of floodplain Civil Government troops stood and fired down into the dense mass, working their levers with the hysterical exultation that a defenseless target brings. The bulk of the enemy were far too closely packed to use their weapons, even if they had the inclination. More guns came up; they'd been slowed by the press of surrendering men and riderless dogs behind.

The fort by the bridge was broken and burning. So was the center span of the bridge itself, the wooden trestle licking up flames that were pale in the bright midmorning sun. The heads of men and dogs showed in the water. The swift current swept most of them downstream, toward the tidal estuary and the waiting downdraggers. More followed them into the water by the minute. .

'Cease fire!' Raj shouted.

There hadn't been much fight in the Brigaderos since they realized the bridge was under attack behind them. A splatgun bounced up, unlimbered and cut loose down the slope into the enemy. A pocket opened for a second, where the thirty-five rounds punched in together.

'Cease fire, Spirit-dammit, sound cease fire!' Raj shouted again.

The bugles sang again and again, and the sound began to relay down the other units. The Civil Government soldiers were packed almost shoulder to shoulder above their opponents as well, and the firing began to die away reluctantly. As the noise died, the movement below did as well. Ten minutes later the cries of the wounded were the loudest sound; he could see thousands of faces turning toward him, toward the Starburst banner amid the guns.

'White parley flag,' he said to an aide. 'Find an officer. Unconditional surrender, immediately, but I guarantee their lives and personal liberty if nothing else.' He had better uses for troops this good than sending them to the mines.

* * *

'Well, Ingreid's down to what, fifty thousand by now?' Gerrin Staenbridge said.

'Four thousand dead, four thousand surrendered, from their rearguard-roughly,' Bartin Foley said, looking at his notepad.

The commanders were sitting around a trestle table. Below them squads of prisoners were picking over the field, collecting the dead and the weapons under the supervision of Civil Government infantry. Wagonloads of enemy wounded and plunder groaned up the switchback road, and packs of captured dogs. Artillerymen and artisans from Old Residence were swarming over the railway bridge and repairing the damage; the sound of sawing and hammering drifted back along with the endless rushing sound of the river against the stone pilings. Still more prisoners were at work repairing the earthworks of the fort. Even the artillery might be salvageable; those cast-iron and cast-bronze pieces were hard to damage.

Raj swallowed a mouthful of bread and sausage and followed it with water. 'Grammeck, how long on the bridge?'

'Ready by tomorrow if we push it,' the artilleryman said. 'No real structural damage.'

Raj nodded. 'Kaltin, how many dogs did we capture?'

'More than we can use or feed,' the Companion said. 'Eight, nine thousand, not counting the ones who're better shot. Why?'

He raised a hand. 'All right,' he said. The others leaned forward. 'As you may have guessed, I don't intend to give Ingreid a free passage home. If he gets behind the fortifications of Carson Barracks, we could be here for years-and it'd be cursed hard to cut off its communications, not with the river so close.'

Staenbridge rubbed a hand along his jaw, rasping the blueblack stubble. 'An open-field encounter?' he said. 'Fifty, fifty-five thousand men. . chancy.'

Raj shook his head and smiled, weighing down the corners of a map with plates and cups. 'I've no intention of fighting unless he obliges me by attacking a strong position head-on. . and I think even the Lord of Men has realized that's a mistake.'

The others chuckled and watched intently as Raj's finger traced the line of the railway between Old Residence and Carson Barracks, four hundred kilometers to the southwest in the valley of the Padan.

'He has to withdraw along this line. . well, he could march straight to the nearest riverport on the Padan, but that's not what he'll do. This stretch of country along the line of rail is bare and the railway is useless for anything substantial, thanks to Ludwig here.' The ex-Squadrone blushed. 'He'll have to bring in wagon trains from areas with supplies-and at the worst time of year, too.'

'Ah, bwenyo,' Kaltin Gruder said. 'A razziah, eh?'

'Hmmm.' Gerrin pursed his lips. 'Still, we'd have only six thousand men,' he pointed out. 'Difficult to coordinate and not much if we do have to fight.'

'Not nearly enough,' Raj agreed. 'We'll need eleven thousand rifles and all the field guns as a minimum. Jorg, we'll take nine battalions of your infantry.'

The Kelden County nobleman looked up, blinking in surprise. 'My boys can march,' he said. 'But they're bipeds, mi heneral.'

'Not on dogback they aren't,' Raj said. That's why I asked how many dogs we captured.' He held up his hands against the storm of protest.

'I know, I know; it takes years to train a cavalryman, he practically has to be born at it. I don't expect them to be able to fight mounted, or maneuver, or switch from mounted to dismounted action quickly-I don't expect them to do anything but stay on the beasts, then get off and form up on foot for infantry action. Mounted infantry, not cavalry.'

Jorg Menyez closed his mouth on the protest he had been about to make and sat silent for a second. Then he nodded. 'Yes, they can do that,' he said.

Raj rapped his knuckles on the rough boards. 'Spirit willing and the crick don't rise,' he said. 'Pick the best, leave the units that got hardest-hit during the assault behind. Put a good solid man in charge, he can recruit up to strength locally. Not likely to be any real fighting around here for the rest of the campaign, anyway.

'We'll divide into three columns,' he went on. 'Gerrin, Kaltin and Ludwig to command, fifteen guns each. Bare minimum supplies, no tents, no camp followers, no wheeled transports except the ammunition limbers for the guns. Put six hundred rounds of 11mm per man on pack dogs, three days' hardtack, and that's about it.'

He drew a straight line on the map along the railway. 'That's Ingreid.' Three X's, one ahead of the Brigade force and two more on the south and left of it. 'That's us. Just enough skirmishing to keep them slowed down.'

A big army was a slow army anyway, and if they were forced to deploy, they'd be slower still. Every day cross-country increased their supply problems. Raj stretched out a hand with the fingers splayed, then pulled it back toward himself and clenched them.

'We'll stay close enough together to keep in supporting distance,' he said. 'Cut off all foragers, and retreat sharpish if a substantial force tries to attack. If Ingreid stops and lunges for us, we can all close up and pick our spot. Either he breaks his teeth on us by attacking entrenchments front-on, or he has to resume marching toward Carson Barracks-in which case we resume harassment. With any luck, by the time he gets to his capital he'll be starving.'

'What about their right flank?' Gerrin asked, tracing an arc to the north of the railway line.

'Our good and faithful Colonel Clerett's up there, burning and killing,' Raj said. 'From the reports, I expect him to reach Carson Barracks long before Ingreid does. Also, I'll put the Skinners on that flank. Juluk will enjoy that.'

'Spirit help the civilians,' Jorg said. Raj shrugged.

'Fortunes of war-and Skinners consider killing civilians poor sport when they've got Long-Hairs at hand,' he said. 'When we all get where we're going, we can link up with Clerett, which will give us fifteen or sixteen thousand first-rate troops. . and Ingreid should be considerably weaker by then. Any questions?'

A murmur of assent. 'I want to be moving by tomorrow,' he went on. 'Here's the disposition of units-'

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The long gentle ridge above the roadway was covered in peach trees, and the whole orchard was in a froth of