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"I want no credit, your Grace. What I wanted was to beat our enemies. Since
that was denied me . . ." Bell shrugged again, not so much careless of the
pain as embracing it. Once it had washed over him, he asked, "And who will
succeed me in command of this army?"
To his surprise, Marquis Peegeetee looked past him again. "I am afraid,
Lieutenant General, that that is not such an easy question to answer."
"Why not?" Bell demanded. "Someone has to, surely."
"Well . . . no. Not necessarily," Peegeetee replied. "King Geoffrey plans to
send part of your army to Count Joseph the Gamecock, who is gathering forces
in Palmetto Province to try to hold off the southrons. Veldt, you know, fell
to General Hesmucet a couple of weeks ago. His Majesty fears Hesmucet will
turn south, aiming to join Marshal Bart in an assault against Nonesuch. The
rest of your force here . . ." He shrugged, too, a dapper little shrug.
" . . . will be able to carry on without the formal name of the Army of
Franklin."
Rage ripped through Lieutenant General Bell. "What?" he growled. "You'd gutmy
army to feed soldiers to that useless son of a bitch of a Joseph?"
With icy courtesy, Peegeetee replied, "It seems to me, Lieutenant General,
that you are the one who has gutted your army."
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Bell ignored him. "Gods damn it, if I'd known Geoffrey was going to do that,
I never would have resigned. As a matter of fact, I withdraw my resignation!"
"I am going to pretend I did not hear that," the marquis said. "Believe me
when I say you are lucky I am going to pretend I did not hear it. I told you
his Majesty was disappointed in the Army of Franklin's performance. I did not
tell youhow disappointed, and how . . . how wrathful, he was. If you fail to
resign, hewill sack you, Lieutenant General. And he will do worse than that.
'Lieutenant General Bell, give me back my army!' he cried when word of your
sad, piteous overthrow before Ramblerton reached him. If he sacks you, you
will go before a court-martial, one with membership of his choosing. Perhaps
you will only see the inside of a prison. Perhaps, on the other hand, you will
see a cross."
"A . . . cross?" Bell said hoarsely. "He would do that to me, for fighting a
campaign the best way I knew how? By the Thunderer's strong right hand, where
is the justice in this world?"
"A cross not for the fight, I would say." General Peegeetee judiciously
pursed his lips as he paused to find just the right words. "A cross for
throwing away Geoffrey's last hope east of the mountains his last hope,
really, of ruling a kingdom that amounts to anything."
A tiny flicker of disdain, gone from his face almost but not quite before
Bell was sure he saw it, said Peegeetee shared King Geoffrey's opinion of Bell
and of what he had and hadn't done. That scorn hurt him worse than either his
missing leg or his ruined arm. "Excuse me," he said thickly, and fumbled for
his little bottle of laudanum. He gulped, careless of the dose. Poppies and
fire chased each other down his throat.
"I regret the necessity of bringing you such unfortunate news when your
wounds trouble you so," Peegeetee murmured.
Bell doubted he regretted it. If he had to guess, he would have said
Peegeetee derived a sneaking pleasure from his pain. And, for once, the wounds
weren't what troubled the general commanding no, the general formerly
commanding the Army of Franklin. Could laudanum also dull torment of the
spirit? If it couldn't, nothing could. That possibility sent a cold wind of
terror howling through Bell's soul.
"Have you now reconsidered your reconsideration?" the marquis inquired.
"I have," Bell replied in a voice heavy as lead. "But, your Grace, no matter
what you say, I aim to go to Nonesuch to put my case before his Majesty."
"I would not dream of standing in your way," Peegeetee said. "I do offer two
bits of advice, however, for whatever you may think they are worth. First, do
not get your hopes up. King Geoffrey has always been touchy, and he is all the
touchier now that the war is going . . . less well than he would have liked."
"And whose fault is that?" Bell said, meaning it was Geoffrey's.
But General Peegeetee answered, "In his opinion, yours. I also note that
Nonesuch is not the place you think it to be."
"I am familiar with Nonesuch," Bell said. "It is less than a year and a half
ago that I last passed through it. Surely it cannot have changed much in so
short a time."
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"It can. It has," General Peegeetee told him. "With Marshal Bart's army
clinging to the siege of Pierreville as a bulldog clings to a thief's leg, the
shadow of the gibbet and the cross falls ever darker on the city. It is not
without its gaiety even yet, but that gaiety has a desperate edge."
"I care nothing for gaiety," Bell snapped. "I care only for victory, and for
vindication."
"Both of which, I fear, are in moderately short supply in Nonesuch these
days." Peegeetee shrugged. "This is not my concern, however. I, like you, wish
it were otherwise. And please believe me when I tell you I wish you good
fortune in your quest. As I say, though, do please also be realistic in your
expectations."
Bell had never been realistic, either in the field or in his maneuverings
with and against other officers serving King Geoffrey. His headlong fighting
style had made him a hero. It had also left him a twice-mutilated man. He had [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]