“Yessir, Marshal!” the man said, and turning his horse away, trotted toward the destruction.
Melody watched him ride off, then pulled her horse close beside her commander’s. “Don’t let that kind of crap get to you, Macurdy,” she murmured. “It’s been happening since man discovered war, and it’ll keep on till he undiscovers it, if he ever does. At least you don’t order it, like Quaie. If you just make it less, you can be proud.”
He nodded. At Amotville, where the wounded had filled commandeered buildings, his spear maiden had been subdued by the sight and sounds. It would get worse, he knew, and told himself this wasn’t just to get Varia back. Like the Great War in Europe, back on Farside, this was the war to end wars.
The problem was believing it.
The rain stopped not long after noon. The sky cleared, and by evening the ground had dried somewhat. The advance units were only a few miles ahead now; he’d catch up with them in the morning. Meanwhile reports were coming in by courier: Three Teklan companies had ridden westward, and near a place called Herrinsville had scattered a militia cohort marching east, killing “a considerable number.” The Indrossan cavalry cohort had ridden eastward and chased some militia cavalry across the Travertine River. There they’d raided a hay barn and got the rain-wet bridge to burn by piling and lighting hay beneath both ends and on its planking.
It seemed unlikely to Macurdy that his army’s undefended corridor would become dangerous till imperial cavalry arrived from kingdoms to the east and west. Meanwhile he’d lose no sleep over it; the principal victims would likely be plunder columns. If he had to fight his way back out, then he’d lose sleep, though he had a plan for that, too. But the idea was to fight northward, get a treaty, and make arrangements for Varia’s return, then march out peacefully.
He also received reports of a small village ravaged, with rapes and murders. And a Kullvordi company had found a plunder detachment raping the women on an estate near the road. The Kullvordi commander had arrested the sergeant and corporal of each squad and had them flogged in front of their victims, then hanged their sublieutenant and platoon sergeant from a tree by the road, their ranks conspicuous on their tunics. Each wore a crude sign reading rapist. The rest of the detachment he’d led off with their wagons and loot, to rejoin their own company.
Macurdy wished he’d thought to have medals struck; he could have decorated the Teklan commander. Meanwhile he’d gotten the man’s name; with luck he could reward him later.
As the army continued north, the militias fought more often, though not effectively. No more imperials were seen, and someone suggested they’d abandoned the Marches, but it seemed to Macurdy that somewhere ahead they were gathering in force. Perhaps waiting for reinforcements from the north.
He rode near the front of his army now, Jeremid his operations officer. Melody was his chief of staff. One evening as they examined captured maps, an entry guard announced four Sisters. Macurdy had them shown in. Sarkia had assigned him forty of them, her most skilled magicians, she’d said. Mostly they kept inconspicuous, aided by some light spell. And by their clothing; they didn’t wear the usual robes, but guardsmen’s green field uniforms cut small. They had their own guard platoon, Tigers instead of ordinary guards.
The Sisters who entered his tent looked like a set of clones, and no doubt were. Their leader’s name was Omara. “Marshal Macurdy,” she said quietly, “are you displeased with us?”
“Displeased? No. Why?”
“You haven’t called on us to help.”
“Yes I have, at Big Springs. Your healing skills saved a number of lives there.”
“That is not what I meant. You have not let us help you defeat enemy forces.”
“We haven’t needed that kind of help.”
“We could have made a difference in some encounters, even though you won them easily. A mist or confusion at the right time could have saved you casualties.”
Actually he’d thought of it, but didn’t say so. “Sooner or later,” he answered, “we’ll meet an ylvin army, and if they use sorcery against us, I’ll likely free you to do whatever you think will work.”