[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
He started from the door, and then paused and looked back. "You boyars and
churchmen have lived well under our rule, but such things could be changed. It
has happened in other lands to those who keep not their lowest ones respectful
of our rule."
Lowering his head to clear the door, the Namer strode out into the nave of the
cathedral. He looked at the altar, and laughed at the image of the weak gods
of cattle who in the afterworlds must offer their own flesh to
Bulgatana, father god of the Chosen Race.
Peering anxiously from the window, Ivor and Rasnar watched as the
Namer mounted his high platform. The nargas and drums sounded and the
procession passed up across the empty square. A knot of peasants stood off to
one side, shrieking in sorrow as fifty of their loved ones, hooked to chains,
staggered off behind the column, food for the march back westward.
"Now you must be with me," Rasnar said coldly, looking back at Ivor.
The boyar sat down heavily, and adjusting his glasses he looked at his hated
foe.
"If all the Rus were united," he said quietly, "peasant, noble, church, we
could fight them."
"Are you mad?" Rasnar hissed. "They would smash us into the ground.
Do you think I like them, knowing they hold power over us? Remember your
station, Ivor. We rule through them."
"We could rule without them," the boyar said coldly.
"You are mad."
"The Yankees could show us how."
"So that was your hope as well, wasn't it? That is why you did nothing for
now, and let them build their infernal devices upon your land. You became
tempted to defy even the Tugars. But now they come too soon for your mad dream
to be possible."
Ivor was silent.
"You know what the Yankees will do. They will fight and they will die.
For each death of a Tugar, a thousand must die. If the Yankees can even kill
one for one, half the people of all Rus will die in retribution, and I
daresay there will be no exemption for nobles this time."
"We could fight alongside them," Ivor said again, coldly.
"If you dare," Rasnar hissed, "then through me all the cities of Rus will
march against you, for there is no love between you and your brother boyars.
Page 112
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
They think you fat, overproud, and desirous of being named
Ivor the Great rather than Ivor Weak Eyes as you really are."
With a snarl, the boyar stood up and started for the door.
"What will it be? Defeat the Yankees and the church will not object to your
becoming the Great. Defy me and it will be Mikhail instead."
Ivor turned and looked back at Rasnar. Somehow an idea had started to form
over these months, but now he knew it was dead. Time had played against him.
There was no alternative left, for now that the reality was before him, the
mad dreams had died. He knew after all that the horde was invincible and he
must live.
"I will send messengers tonight," Ivor whispered. "The nobles will gather from
the cities. When the snow falls heavy again, we will attack them in the middle
of the night."
Rasnar smiled.
"But if Keane is taken alive, he is mine. Perhaps I can still save him, and
the same stands for any other Yankee."
"Of course," Rasnar replied.
"As for the Yankee weapons, they are mine as well."
Rasnar did not argue that point. There would be time enough later to change
that agreement.
The boyar stalked from the room, and laughing softly, the prelate returned to
his desk.
"All right, gentlemen," Andrew said, settling behind his desk. "This is an
open meeting. I want all opinions."
The room was silent as the various company commanders, staff, and contingents
from O'Donald's and Cromwell's units looked about, each hoping the other would
say something first.
Finally it was O'Donald who stood up.
"If ever something needed killing," O'Donald said, "it's those beasties. I
volunteered to fight rebs, and I did it gladly, wanting a good argument to
sink my teeth into. But I didn't hate them. This is different. I'll kill
Tugars and laugh while a-doin' it."
Several of the company commanders nodded grimly.
"I'm an abolitionist man," Houston said sharply. "I joined to fight slavery.
This makes the Johnnies back home look like rock-solid
Republicans. Let's smash this system to the ground, colonel, free the
peasants, arm 'em, and fight!"
"I think it's madness," Tobias retorted from the other end of the table.
Normally any comment from the man would draw at best indifference from the
infantry and artillerymen, but Andrew noticed that this time there was a
difference in the room.
"Go on, Captain Cromwell," Andrew said evenly. "State your views."
"You heard that Kal fellow when we questioned him earlier. These
Tugars number in the hundreds of thousands. We can fight and we'll all die.
I'm not one for dying in a hopeless cause.
"Now, I've sailed the waters south of here. There's good land to be found, far
away from this madhouse. I say we pull out while the pulling's good and hide
out till the Tugars have passed."
"And if they hunt us down?" Andrew asked. "For I've got a feeling they can't
let people like us live it would set a precedent that could threaten their
entire system."
"Then if they find us, we'll simply load up the
Ogunquit again, pull out to sea, and move on. I don't think they've got
anything to match the steam engines below her deck."
Tobias settled back into his chair and looked around. More than one man was
nodding in agreement.
"So we learn to live like hunted dogs, is that it?" O'Donald snapped back.
"Always looking over our shoulders, ready to run from our shadows."
Page 113
ABC Amber Palm Converter, http://www.processtext.com/abcpalm.html
"Not always," Tobias retorted. "You heard Kal they stay for a winter in one
area, then move on by spring heading east. Twenty years later they come back
out of the west. We need hide only for this one year. When they come back
again, we and our sons will be ready for them."
"And leave the people of Suzdal to the sack, is that it?" Mina retorted.
"What good could we do anyhow?" Tobias replied. "They are like cattle, just
like the niggers back home who worked like cattle in the fields. If the
niggers wanted their freedom so all-fired bad, why didn't they rebel when
John Brown started it all? And it's the same with these lazy peasants."
"Last I heard," Andrew said slowly, "those men you call niggers had a hundred
and eighty thousand brothers wearing Union blue. After the battle of the
Crater I saw their bodies carpeting the field from one end to the other."
All in the room could see Andrew bristling at Tobias.
"I call those men Americans, damn you," he said.
Tobias backed off.
"Are there any other comments?" Andrew continued, looking around the table,
his voice still sharp from the encounter.
"There's the simple logistics of it all," Emil said, leaning forward. "No
matter what our pride tells us, six hundred cannot stand before hundreds of
thousands. We saw what their bowman did to poor Johnson. Hans went and paced
it off later a hundred and seventy yards that shot carried.
"Even with our rifles they'll close in enough to shoot and simply wear us
down."
Andrew found himself nodding in agreement. His initial rage had cooled as the
harsh realities of what they faced finally settled in. With only six hundred
they'd be surrounded and smothered under a rain of feathered death.
"If we stay, it'll be almost certain death," Andrew said quietly, and the room
was silent.
"I have never turned from a fight in my life. You and I have stood together on
a score of fields, and never has the 35th run, and the record of the 44th
Artillery is as honorable.
"If our deaths here would mean something, then I would order us to stay and
fight. But what I wish in this will not be the deciding factor. I cannot order
the brave men of this regiment to die, most likely for no purpose at all."
Tobias started to smile, but Andrew's look cut him off.
"If we stay, we'll have to fight Ivor and the nobles first, before we can even
take a shot at the Tugars."
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]