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about Franklin, about Ramblerton."
"You're the marshal." George sounded cheerier than he felt. "Whatever you
want, that's what happens."
That was a mistake. Doubting George realized as much as soon as the words
were out of his mouth which was, of course, too late. Bart said, "I'll tell
you what I want. I want what I told you I wanted a week ago. I want you to go
out there and smash the Army of Franklin.
"I intend to do exactly that, sir," George answered. "As soon as I am ready,
Iwill do it."
"And just when do you expect to be ready, Lieutenant General?" Marshal Bart
asked pointedly. "You've already dithered too long."
"I am not dithering, sir," George replied with dignity. "I am waiting for a
couple of good brigades to come in from the far side of the Great River. As
soon as they're here, I will land on Bell like a ton of barristers."
"I am of the opinion and King Avram is also of the opinion that you have
enough men to do the job without these footsoldiers from beyond the Great
River," Bart said. "I want you to get on with it, George."
"Sir, I will attack when I am ready," Doubting George said stiffly. "Until I
am sure I can do the job as it should be done, I don't see how I can or why I
should launch an attack."
"Lieutenant General, if you stay in Ramblerton much longerwithout attacking,
you put your command in jeopardy," Marshal Bart said. "Do I make myself
plain?"
"Odiously so," George answered. "If you want to replace me, you have the
right to do just that. You are the marshal, after all."
"Confound it, George, I don'twant to replace you," Bart said irritably. "I
want you to go out there and fight and win. The longer you sit there and don't
fight, though, the worse you look, and the louder people scream for your
head."
"Tell those people to go scream about something else," George said. "Have I
ever let you down? Have I ever let the kingdom down?"
"No, but they say there's a first time for everything. I'm beginning to
wonder myself," Bart said. "I tell you that frankly, as one soldier to
another. You outnumber Bell. He is there in front of you. Go strike him."
"You outnumber Duke Edward. He is there in front ofyou . Go strike him,"
Doubting George said.
"You are not so funny as you may think. If you saw the works of Pierreville,
you would be more sparing of your advice."
"Sir, it could be," George allowed. "I do not understand the situation there.
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I admit it. And you do not understand the situation here only you refuse to
admit it."
"I understand that I am the commanding general of all the armies of the
Kingdom of Detina," Marshal Bart said. "I understand that I have ordered you
to attack. I understand that you are not attacking. What more do I need to
understand about Ramblerton?"
"That ordering me to attack when my army is not ready is about as bad a
mistake as you can make . . . sir," Doubting George said. "That you are
flabbling over nothing. Bell will not get away, and I will whip him."
"You are a stubborn man, Lieutenant General," Bart said. "I warn you once
more, though: you are trifling with your career."
"I will take the chance, sir," George replied. "Let history and you judge by
the result."
"If you don't get moving before too long, history would judge me if I didn't
remove you from your command," the marshal said. "You had better bear that in
mind if you mean to sit around with a superior force."
"You will do what you think best," Doubting George said stolidly, not showing
any of the outrage that boiled up in him at Bart's threat. "I wish you would
credit me with doing the same, though."
"I believe you are doing what you think best," Marshal Bart said. "But if I
do not also happen to think that is the best thing to do, I would be remiss in
my duty if I did not take steps to see what I want done, done."
"You want a victory. I will give you a victory. If I don't give you a
victory, send me out to the trackless east and let me chase the blond savages
along with Guildenstern and John the Hierophant."
"I want a victorynow , Lieutenant General. You have it in your power to give
me what I want," Bart said. "If you don't give me what I want, I will get it
from someone else. That is the long and short of it." Bart turned to the
scryer dealing with his end of the mystic connection between crystal balls.
The scryer broke it. Bart's image vanished from the crystal ball in front of
Doubting George.
George's scryer asked, "Do you want to send any messages of your own, sir?"
"Eh? No." George shook his head. "Not only that, I didn't want to hear the
one I just got."
"I don't blame you a bit," the scryer said. Then, remembering such
conversations were supposed to be confidential, he turned red. "Not that I was
paying much attention to it."
"No, of course not." George's irony was strong enough to make the scryer
flinch. "Just keep that convenient forgetfulness in mind when you're talking
with anybody else, eh?" The wizard nodded quick and, George thought, sincere
agreement. It wasn't so much that he had George's interests uppermost in his
mind. But he had to know the general commanding could make his life amazingly
miserable if he let his mouth run away with him.
Doubting George stalked away from the room full of crystal balls. Miserable
invention, he thought. They let distant commanders inflict their stupidity on
someone on the spot. If the ignorant bastards off in the west actually knew
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