Such a simple thing to do. Sending men off to crawl around in a forest until they can bring in artillery shells onto other men. He looked at his hand, and remembered a line from a poem. Just a line. ‘The hand that signed the paper . . . these five kings did a king to death.” Why do they obey me? They’re older and more experienced. He remembered Owensford, during the Dales battle, and later in the rescue of the Halleck boy. At least they try to tell me when I’m making a mess of things. He turned back to the map table.
* * *
“Royal Leader, this is Arnold. I have located our objective. We have an enemy unit under observation. They are unaware of our presence, but I can’t guarantee that for long if we attempt to close. Visual and IR observation. Data transmission follows, stand by.”
Images on the map table swam, dissolved, and reformed as update data flowed in. Lysander and Bennington eagerly bent over the display.
“Missiles, all right,” Bennington said. “I don’t recognize the type. Let’s see if we have a visual.” A blurred image appeared on one of the wall screens. “Still doesn’t mean anything to me. You, sir?”
Lysander shook his head. “Afraid not. Okay, let’s buck this back to the Capital. Maybe the Legion has something in its data base.”
“Right.” Bennington made adjustments. “Whatever they are, they’re anti-air. Give ’em any capability you like, they were looking right down our throats here. If we’d sent the air cav out in a body to follow the highway, or even the river—”
“Yeah. How long will it take Arnold to get into position to attack them?” Lysander asked.
“We’ll have to ask him, but I’d give him at least half an hour.”
“Please see that your artillery is in place and ready to fire at that time.”
“Yes, sir.” Bennington sounded enthusiastic.
They studied the map as they waited. The First Royals regiment was poised and ready, all they needed was assurance that they could move safely. And the right objective. If we can find the enemy we can kill them. Definitely need to talk to the CD people. There has to be a way to get some satellite observations.
“Urgent signal from General Owensford for Prince Lysander,” Sergeant Roscius said.
“Put him on the speaker. Lysander here.”
“Sir—” The word was choked off. Everyone in the command room looked up, puzzled.
Owensford was quiet for a moment. Then his voice turned cold and impersonal. “Sir, the mine garrison is engaging in a spontaneous all out counterattack. It is expected that when the attack makes contact with the enemy it will be repulsed with heavy losses. The counterattack began when the garrison learned that the Helots had used an earth penetrator rocket to attack the hospital and civilian shelter area. General Barton is attempting to halt the attack and reorganize the garrison troops, but he has had limited success. The enemy is retreating. General Barton is worried about ambuscades. He is attempting to halt the pursuit until our forces are better organized.
“Civilian casualties were heavy, amounting to sixty percent in the hospital and may be as high as fifty percent among women and children in the shelter.”
The command room fell silent. Someone made a deep growling sound.
“Can you get me a direct link to Stora?” Lysander asked.
“Yes, sir, but I thought I’d better tell you this first.”
“Quite correct, General Owensford. I suppose there’s no chance this was an accident?”
“No, sir, they threatened to attack the central shelter unless it surrendered. The attack was an earth penetrator missile, specially designed to attack hard targets. It was launched instantly after the Helots ceased communication. There was no time for evacuation. It was deliberate, sir.” Owensford’s icy calm was beginning to fray.
Cold fury gnawed at Lysander’s stomach, but he felt a preternatural calm. “All right. Get me General Barton.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll patch him through.”
“Barton here.”
“General, this is Lysander. Peter told me.”
“Yes, sir.”
“It’s not your fault. You couldn’t have prevented it.”
“I don’t see how I could have, sir. But we have five hundred dead children here, and I was in command.”
“Can you get me a general circuit? I want to speak to everyone there.”
“Klingstauffer, His Highness wants a general circuit. Shall I announce you, sir?”
“Yes, please.”
There was a pause, then, “All units. This is General Barton in command center. His Highness Prince Lysander Collins will speak to you now. Your Highness—”
“My people. My sisters and brothers. Please listen. I share your grief, and together we will mourn Sparta’s dead. That is later. For now, I have a command. I order you to live. Wherever you are, whatever you are doing, stop, take heed, think. You are what the enemy wanted you to be, enraged citizens seeking vengeance, vulnerable to their treachery.
“And THAT IS NOT ENOUGH. You shall be avenged, but you will not be avenged through haste and madness! Vengeance demands victory, and victory demands that we act together, as a disciplined army! Brothers and Sisters! Organize. Organize and obey your officers.
“People of Sparta. I am coming, I am bringing the instruments of vengeance and destruction. Wait for me. And know that this will not end today, not today, and not tomorrow. It will not end until we are avenged. More than avenged. Together we shall pursue these creatures wherever they go, relentless pursuit, until we have killed them all, killed them not only for revenge but to cleanse this land, we shall cleanse this land of all memory of these creatures. They do not deserve to breathe the same air as free men and women, and by God Almighty I swear it, they shall not!
“We came here to this empty land, and we made a home. We built a land of honor, and we offered to share it with anyone worthy, and this is their answer. They cry for their rights. We will give them their due. We will give them justice.
“My brothers and sisters, listen. Do not throw your lives away. Halt and think. Man your assigned stations. Find your officers. Obey them. Organize, make ready, and wait for me. I am coming, my people. Never doubt it. I am coming. God may have mercy on these wolves but we shall not.”
* * *
“Legion headquarters has identified those missiles, sir. Something new, but the Legion data base has specs on them. Fucking bastards,” Captain Tyson said.
Lysander’s look silenced him. “Good. Feed the performance data to the air ops commander. What I want is a good feint. Send the choppers out as if they’re headed north, but turn away before they’re in danger.”
Tyson straightened. “Can do.”
“Lieutenant Arnold reports enemy alerted,” the communications sergeant said. “They’re setting up their birds, like they expect us.”
“They heard the speech,” Lysander said. “Or someone up north heard it and sent an alert. Doesn’t matter. They expect us to come running. Arnold in position?”
“Five minutes, sir. Artillery’s targeted. Rockets in place.”
“Get those choppers going, then. Colonel Bennington, you’ll take command of this operation. Hit them, neutralize them, take some live prisoners able to tell us how they got here, then let the constabulary finish them off. I want this regiment headed north as soon as possible.”
“Yes, sir. You want me to command?”
“Yes. As soon as we’ve defeated the ambush, I’ll take the air cav and get up to Stora.”
“This may not be the only missile force they have.”
“May not be, but it probably is. Jamie, they can’t cover the whole countryside. We’re scouting alternate routes, I’ll take one of those, but by God I’m going. They need me up there.”
“Aye,” Jamie Bennington said. “That they do, my Prince.”
* * *
Twenty officers and as many civilian leaders were gathered in the command center of the Stora Mine. They greeted Lysander with grim satisfaction. “We waited, Highness,” someone said. “Now lead us.”
Ace Barton rose wearily to attention and saluted. “Highness. You’ll be taking command now. I’d like to go back to the Legion.”
“Denied,” Lysander said. “General, you will continue in command here.” He looked at the grim faces around him. “You’ll need an expert,” he said. “This is General Barton’s work, and he is good at it.”
“Not good enough.”
“I forbid that,” Lysander said. “Until now we didn’t know, couldn’t know, the true nature of our enemy. Blaming ourselves for not foreseeing this criminal act is pointless. General Barton, you will organize the pursuit. The objective is to harass and punish the enemy, of course, but that’s not the main objective. It is far more important that you avoid their traps, avoid casualties. Preserve our people, so that we can win this war and rebuild.”
“Speak for yourself,” someone said. An elderly captain. “We lost a daughter and two grandchildren. I don’t care what happens to me as long as I take some of them with me.”