Fires of Memory

by Washburn, Scott;

  “What? Oh, it’s you.”

  “Are you all right?” Jarren asked again.

  “Just resting my eyes for a moment,” said Lyni. “I’m all right.”

  “Maybe you should sleep for a while.”

  “What? With Colonel Krasner cracking the whip over us? Not a chance! Sometimes I think Stephanz was right: you have made us into slaves.”

  “You can walk away and leave any time you want, Lyni. I would make sure no one tried to stop you.”

  “Ha! Like you’d ever stand up to Colonel Krasner.”

  “For you, I would.”

  Lyni looked at him for a long time. Jarren wondered what she was thinking. “You know, I believe you might,” she said at last. “Jarren, are you in love with me or something?”

  He was so startled by the question that before he could stop himself, his mouth told the truth. “I think maybe I am.” He immediately blushed red.

  Lyni snorted. “Well, then, you’re stupider than I thought. How could you possibly love me after the way I’ve been treating you?”

  “Y-you have not treated me badly.”

  “I’ve treated you like shit, Jarren Carabello! From the night I had you pulled out of the water, until now. I’ve treated you like shit, and yet you say you are in love with me.”

  “You are an amazing person, Lyni. You are strong and smart and brave and beautiful…” Lyni snorted, but Jarren pressed ahead, “…and I care for you. I’m not sure if that is love, but that is how I feel.”

  The woman opened her mouth as if she were going to say something else, but then she apparently changed her mind and closed it again and just stared at him. “You are amazing, too, Jarren,” she said after a while. “Just when I think you can’t possibly be any more trouble than you already are—you do something like this.”

  “I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you. I never meant you—or anyone else—any harm.”

  “I know,” Lyni sighed. “You are not a bad sort, I suppose. But trouble seems to follow you.” She was silent for a few moments and then spoke again. “So how am I supposed to feel about this?”

  Jarren wasn’t sure what to say. This was not the sort of conversation he had any experience with. At least she had not slapped him or driven him off. “I don’t know. How do you feel about it?”

  “Right now? I feel tired. That’s the only thing I’ve felt for weeks. Ask me again when this is all over.”

  “Very well, I shall. But maybe you really should go to bed, Lyni.”

  “In a bit. I just want to finish off this barrel.” Jarren looked inside and saw that there were a few pounds left.

  “This will take you another hour at least,” he protested.

  “More like two, but I want to get it done. It will be twenty pounds for the day, and that’s the best I’ve managed.”

  “That’s very good. Hess and Idira have scarcely been able to do fifteen—although you are all getting stronger.”

  “Yes, but it’s not enough. What’s the total up to now?”

  “Around twenty-five hundred pounds, I think.”

  “Three whole volleys for the infantry—and nothing for the cannons. We’re not going to make it, Jarren. We’ll never have enough—not in the time we have left.”

  “Some of the soldiers will have to fight without guns, I suppose. But we still have a chance.”

  “Not much of one. Not against the army that is headed this way.”

  “And yet you refuse to give up.”

  “I heard what that priest had to say about Gira, Jarren, just like everyone else. I know what’s at stake. I know what’s going to happen to us…what’s going to happen to me. I just want to hurt them as badly as possible before the end.”

  Jarren was surprised at her words. She had always seemed to be the most reluctant and cynical of allies. But she had changed recently. He’d noticed it that night after the concert. She had really liked that, he was sure. She had worked very hard since then, spending long hours treating the gunpowder after the others had fallen asleep from exhaustion. And when the priest from Gira told his tale, she had been crying by the end of it, too.

  “We have not lost yet, Lyni.”

  “Not yet.”

  Jarren wasn’t sure what else to say, but just then the door opened and Colonel Krasner came in, his perpetually muddy boots thumping across the floor. Jarren and Lyni looked at him in curiosity and apprehension.

  “Go to bed, both of you,” he said. Lyni snorted, and Jarren tried to wipe the guilty look off his face. Krasner did not notice. “I mean it. Get some sleep. The army will be marching out tomorrow.”

  “So soon?” said Jarren. “I thought we would have at least another week.”

  “General’s orders. He’s picked where he wants to meet the Kaifs, and we need to get there first. Depending on what they do, we probably have three or four weeks yet, but we have to get moving. We can’t march nearly as fast as they can ride.”

  “Colonel, I cannot do my work in a lurching wagon,” said Lyni. “This is going to seriously cut back on our production.”

  “No, it won’t. We’ve thought of that. We’ve rigged up three of the ambulances with beds. They have good springs on those things, so it should not be too bad. You can sleep during the day while the army marches and then work at night when we are camped.”

  “Colonel!” said Jarren, “They’re being worked to death as it is! You can’t ask that of them, too!”

  “Yes, he can, Jarren,” said Lyni. “He can ask it, and we can try to comply. Maybe we can do enough so there’ll be ten rounds per man.”

  “Thank you, Lyni,” said Krasner. “No matter what happens, you can all be damn proud of yourselves. Now get to bed.” He nodded to her and went out.

  After a moment, Lyni laughed. In spite of himself, Jarren was smiling, too. “Well, he did say ‘bed’, singular, but I’m afraid I’m going to have to beg off sharing one with you, Jarren,” said Lyni.

  “O-of course!” blurted Jarren with a start. “We…we aren’t anywhere near that stage yet—if we ever will be.” He was blushing now.

  Lyni got up, and to his complete amazement, came over and kissed him lightly on the cheek. “You are a good man, Jarren. Trouble on two legs, but still a good man. Now goodnight.”

  He watched her go out. He put out the special lantern. It was like the kind they used in a ship’s magazines to avoid the risk of explosions. Then he sat there in the dark a long time before he got up to go to his own bed. As he left the tent, he almost bumped into someone and jumped back in surprise.

  “Oh! Who’s that? Thad?” He thought he recognized the shape of the priest.

  “Uh, yes, it’s me. Sorry I startled you.” He sounded pretty startled himself. “I, uh, I was looking for you.”

  “Well, you found me. What do you want?”

  “I had just learned that the army will be marching soon. I wanted you to know.”

  “Colonel Krasner just told us. I’m heading off for bed. Are you still coming with us?”

  “Yes. My superiors want me to stay with you.” Jarren tried to see the man’s face in the darkness. Thad seemed very nervous. In fact, he’d seemed very jumpy for days.

  “And just what do your superiors think about all this?”

  “There is a great deal of uncertainty,” answered Thaddius, slowly. “Some are convinced that we must use any means to stop the Kaifeng. Others feel…differently.”

  “How about you? What’s your opinion?”

  “I’m still not sure. I have prayed and prayed for guidance, but so far, the gods have not answered me.”

  “Surely you can see we have to do something. We can’t just let the Kaifeng overrun everything.”

  “Yes, I know. But I am still not sure what the proper action is. This is very…difficult.”

  “Maybe. It’s clear enough to me. It’s even clearer that I need some sleep. Good night, Thad.”

  * * * * *

  Matt looked at the endless line of
men, horses, wagons, and cannons stretching out of sight in each direction and told himself that it was going to be different this time. This army might look like the last army he was a part of, but it was not the same. Aside from being over twice the size, there was no bravado, no confidence based on ignorance. These men knew what they were facing and knew they were marching toward the decisive moment of their lives. The stories of the priests from Gira had gone through the ranks like a wildfire. A few men had quailed, and there had been a rash of desertions over the following days. Matt suspected they were family men who felt compelled to try to get their families out of harm's way. But most men had become more determined than ever. This time, they knew about the fireflies, knew what to expect, and would be facing the enemy with open eyes.

  There were actually a lot of other differences between this army and the Army of Berssia, too, if you knew what to look for. First, this wasn’t just one army, but dozens. There were contingents here from almost every kingdom, duchy, principality, and electorate in the east. The bulk of them were from the major powers like Zollerho, Durace, and Laponia, of course, but there were also troops from Nirbon, Mundoor, Tirragon, Pollico, Taratan, and a dozen others. Some of those situated along the likely invasion route had made contributions that rivaled the larger nations. On the other hand, Barringia, which lay uncomfortably between Heguria and Berssia, had sent only a token force, keeping the rest to watch its own borders.

  The mixture of uniforms in this army was truly dazzling. Blue-coated Laponian lancers with their peculiar five-sided, flat-topped shakos shared the road with Gerritican irregular sharpshooters in sheepskin jackets and every sort of hat imaginable. Pollican grenadiers with jackets that were more gold braid than cloth marched alongside mix-matched companies of volunteers from the waterfront at Zamerdan. Every conceivable type of cannon could be found in the artillery train. No army like this had ever been seen before.

  There were other differences, too. For perhaps the first time in history, there was a major army which had no huge mass of camp-followers tagging along. The fate of those who had followed the Berssian Army to its destruction had convinced the men to send their women home. A few had followed anyway, but these were determined to act as nurses rather than bed-warmers. The whole mood of the army was unlike anything Matt had witnessed. They were here to fight—all of them.

  That wasn’t to say that the army did not have a huge train of wagons following it, it did. But these were filled with supplies to feed the enormous host. They also carried the other weapons the army would probably be forced to use. Wagons filled with crossbows, pikes, halberds, helmets, and other bits of armor lurched along behind each regiment. Everyone was hoping they would not be needed, but with each passing day, it seemed more likely that they would.

  Matt looked over his own regiment, for the Wizards’ Guard was indeed a regiment now. Eight hundred armored lancers took up a third of a mile of road. The flood of volunteers had filled out the regiment in an amazingly short time. If they had stayed in camp for another few weeks, it might have grown beyond regimental size. But it was a fine command. The men were all enthusiastic and many had prior military experience. He’d managed to get a good set of officers and NCOs in place who handled the training. In truth, Matt was learning a great deal himself. He’d never commanded even a squadron before, let alone a regiment.

  The regiment was divided into four squadrons, and on the march, there was an ambulance in the gap between each of the squadrons. Inside those three ambulances, the wizards were sleeping. Or at least trying to sleep. He could not imagine they were getting much with all the noise and dust and the shaking of their vehicles. Or maybe they were; as exhausted as they all were, they probably passed out the moment they lay down. It certainly wasn’t easy to rouse them once the army stopped each day.

  But in another week or two, it would be all over—one way or another. Or maybe a little longer, at the snail’s pace the army was moving. The roads in northern Laponia were neither good nor numerous. Whenever possible, a large army would try to move on several parallel roads, but in these regions, it was seldom possible. Seventy-thousand men took up a huge amount of road. Usually, the head of the column would start out, march ten or twelve miles, and then halt to make camp—and the tail of the column had not even started marching yet. It was slow and frustrating.

  It was a few hours after noon and the vanguard was already pulling off the road. It would be tempting to keep marching as long as there was daylight, but if they did, the tail of the army would never catch up. Mile by mile, they crawled across the landscape. The only good thing was that Matt’s regiment had absolute priority on the road. His cavalry and their ambulances could usually cover the whole day’s march in four or five hours. That gave the wizards a lot of time to work.

  A mounted orderly came galloping back along the column and came up to Matt. He saluted, pointed out the spot where his regiment was to camp, and then told Matt that the general wanted to see him. Matt passed on the camping orders to his subordinates and then followed the orderly to the general’s headquarters.

  They had to detour around a cluster of priests who were setting up their own camp. The army had a large number of the clerics with it, but Matt did not know what use they were going to be. He had no problem with asking the gods for help, but he was quite sure that the gods sided with the army that had the biggest regiments and most firepower. As he passed the priests, he noticed Brother Thaddius talking with some of the others. He had decided he liked Thad and was glad he was here. He seemed a reasonable man, and those were in short supply.

  DeSlitz was usually up near the head of the column, and today was no exception. There were always scouts coming in, and the general wanted to get their reports as soon as possible. Matt rode through the camps of the advance guard to a cluster of tents set on a little hill. He dismounted, turned his horse over to a groom, and then went into the general’s tent.

  “Ah, Krasner, good to see you,” said Deslitz when he saw him. “How is your command?”

  “Excellent, sir. Eager to kill some Kaifs.”

  “Good, good, they’ll get their chance, I’m sure. And how are the wizards progressing?”

  “They are working as hard as possible, sir. We are up to about five thousand pounds of powder now. I’m still sending it all to the cartridge makers. Are you planning on using any of it for the artillery?”

  “Yes, that was one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. As you know, we have managed to get a number of lead crystal boxes made. They’ve been tested and they will keep out the fireflies. Right now, we have twenty-five of them and they can hold about ten powder charges each. I’m going to put one with each of twenty-five of our batteries. They can hold reserve ammunition we can use once all the fireflies have expended themselves. But we are going to need enough immunized powder for at least three shots per gun. That will be another twenty-five hundred pounds. Can they do it?”

  “That depends on how much time they have, sir.”

  “Well, we have a bit of luck on that—although luck might not be the right word. It appears that the Kaifs aren’t coming right for us. They’ve turned north to take Usedam, and that should slow them down for a few days at least. We should reach the position I’ve chosen in another four days. I would guess the enemy will be upon us in another week or so after that.”

  “Eleven days,” said Matt. “That’s almost two hundred and thirty pounds a day. They can’t do it, sir. Lyni is able to do almost fifty pounds a day now, and the other two over thirty, but that’s all. They might be able to do a thousand pounds or so, but the poor wretches are ready to collapse as it is right now.”

  DeSlitz frowned but then nodded. “All right, have them do what they can. We may have to cut back the number of guns we put on the line.”

  “Yes, sir.’

  “All right. But there is something else I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “Sir?”

  “You’ve done a really excellent job orga
nizing and training your regiment. The reports I’ve gotten from Lieutenant Prinz, and what I’ve seen with my own eyes, have been most impressive.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “But I have a bit of a problem, and I was hoping you might help me out with it,”

  “Certainly, sir, whatever I can do.”

  “Good. As you know, we’ve had a hell of a time putting this army together, what with all the different nationalities and old feuds and hatreds getting in the way. Well, to get to the point, the regiment of heavy horse we have from Mundoor is refusing to take orders from their Nirbonian brigade commander. I’ve decided the best thing to do is to assign them to you.”

  Matt looked at his general in astonishment. “To me, sir? What do you mean?”

  DeSlitz just grinned. “Would you be willing to take a crack at commanding a brigade?”

  * * * * *

  Atark looked at the rows and rows of dark trees on either side of the road and shivered. This was probably the most unnerving thing he had ever gone through in his life. It was so closed in! He could not see more than a hundred yards in any direction, and in most places he could see less than fifty. The huge trees overhung the road, and with the spring leaves coming out, he could not even see the sky! He noticed the men of his guard muttering to themselves and looking anxiously about them. Clearly they were just as unsettled as he was. This was no place for a Kaifeng to be. There were no forests out on the plains, at least nothing to compare with this one.

  “Gods! How much longer are going to be stuck in hellspawned place?” snarled one the men.

  “We should be through before nightfall,” said Atark.

  “Thank the gods for that! I can’t imagine being out here at night!”

  “All those piled up behind us will be, though,” said another man.

  “Well, the gods have mercy on them!”

  Atark fully agreed with the man. As near as he could tell, the forest was almost thirty miles wide at the point the road pierced it, and this night, all thirty miles of it would be packed with warriors and herds. It would make far more sense to advance on a broad front rather than along this single road, but that would have meant going through the forest itself, and the men had refused. He could not blame them.