“Let me point out that we’re not sure we can destroy their combat forces as well,” the G-3 said, carefully. “What about evacuating Blackbeard? Let them take an empty base.”
“There were a lot of ships going down there carrying supplies and construction workers,” the G-4 interjected.
“Yes, and they’re all gone now,” Edmund said. “Maybe if we left the Blood Lords behind we could get enough ships down there in time to pull out the mer. They probably wouldn’t even mind a hopeless last stand. But I’m not going to countenance one.”
“Interesting question,” Shar said, smiling faintly. “Does this fall into your decision or mine?”
“Mine,” Edmund said, leaning back in his chair and looking at the overhead. Thank God he’d gotten over his seasickness so he could think clearly. “When did they sail? How old is this information?”
“Yesterday morning,” the G-2 said. “The delphinos had been pushed back from the harbor. They picked them up well outside.”
Edmund steepled his fingers and looked at them for a moment, then flexed his jaw.
“Head north,” he said harshly. “Shar, implement opsec plan orca.”
“We’re going for the invasion fleet, then,” the G-3 said, doubtfully. “You think the Blood Lords can hold out.”
“We’re sailing north,” Chang replied. “Northeast actually. Do that now. And I need all the carrier commanders and the dragon contingent commanders to fly on for a meeting. After that, I’ll need message packets taken to all the other ship commanders. That is all for now.”
The staff stood up shaking their heads and filed out of the room.
“So you’re going for the combat fleet?” Shar asked.
“Not exactly,” Edmund said. “And I need an operational immediate message sent to all land forces: Plan Fell Deeds.”
Colonel Olin Rienzo thought, as he always did, that Sir Robert Kane, Baron Marshfield, looked like the cavalier’s cavalier.
They had known each other, distantly, before the Fall when Rienzo had been a breeder of thoroughbreds and Kane had been a noted eventer and breeder of Hanarahs. Eventing was the most rigorous of all the equestrian sports, a combination of cross-country riding, dressage and jumping, and Kane had been a world-class eventer. At the time Rienzo had found the cavalier’s affectation of wearing big floppy hats and period dress, even during events, to be humorous. It was only after the Fall that Rienzo found out that eventing was more of a sideline for Kane than anything; his real passion was recreation, specifically eighteenth-century cavalry.
When Kane had turned up, with no more authority than a handwritten note from Edmund Talbot, with the mission of raising what Talbot called a “cavalry legion,” Rienzo had initially been skeptical. It took years to train a cavalryman. Fighting from the back of a horse took more than just being able to hold on. For that matter, cavalry horses had to be intensively trained. Kane, however, for all that he looked and sometimes acted like the reincarnation of an eighteenth-century cavalier, was methodical about military training. He had gathered together a large group of riders, and an even larger group of horses, begged, borrowed and stolen equipment and set up a brutal training program for man and horse. It had produced a force of four thousand horsemen, and nearly sixteen thousand horses, that was about as good a cavalry force as any that had ever existed. It was also costing like fire, but they found the money somehow. Some of it had come from what should have been federal taxes, some of it had come from mysterious sources elsewhere, but they had managed it.
He trotted his horse up the hill to where Kane and Ensign Tao were watching the current exercise. The full regiment had formed on one side of a large valley facing a “notional” infantry formation. As one squadron menaced the front of the formation the other two squadrons, at the command of a set of flapping flags, broke left and galloped to the flank of the notional formation, a large number of stacks of hay in the middle of the field. As soon as they were in position all three squadrons wheeled and charged the “enemy formation,” the groups passing through the formation and each other like teeth in a wheel. As they approached the formation the long lances came down and skewered the bales of hay, then swords came out and slashed downward. In a few minutes the ground was covered with slashed-up hay.
“Not bad,” Kane said. “Bravo troop, First Squadron was slow.”
“Got it,” Tao said, making a note in his book. The ensign was a new addition. He had turned up out of nowhere on a knackered out post horse. Since he had apparently been one of Talbot’s aides, and the fleet had sailed with Talbot on board no more than two days before he turned up, he must have ridden like hell to get to Kent; it was the better part of two thousand kilometers from the coast. But the next day he had been up, limping a little but doing his duty. What his duties were weren’t quite clear. He mostly hung around Kane as some sort of supernumerary doing messenger and aide type duties.
“It’s looking good, Colonel,” Kane said, spinning his Hanarah in place and raising his wide floppy hat in greeting.
Kane was a tall man, somewhere around two hundred pounds, with long blond hair that was going almost entirely gray. He had a flowing mustache and a small goatee that on anyone else would look absurd but so fitted his personality it was unnoticeable. He was wearing leather pants with thigh and shin greaves and a black silk doublet that was open down the chest to expose a red silk undershirt. And since he hadn’t turned around the only way for him to know it was Rienzo was from the sound of the colonel’s horse.
“General Kane,” Rienzo said, saluting. “Yes, it is going well. Amazingly well.”
“I wasn’t sure, frankly, when Edmund laid out his training plan,” Kane said, spinning back to watch the squadrons reform. “And we’ll have to see how the lads do in combat. But I think they’ll do well. Yes, I do think, very well. I’d wish we had more training at managing the pursuit, but that’s as may be.”
“Yes, sir,” Rienzo said. “We’ll have to see. The reason I’m here, though, is that there’s a general operational immediate from Edmund Talbot. It’s addressed to ‘all land commands’ and was copied to us. I thought you should see it.”
“Oh,” Kane said, glancing at him for a message form.
“It was just two words: ‘Fell Deeds.’ ”
Kane’s normally gay face went somber at that and he nodded. “Tao.”
“Yes, sir,” the ensign said, reaching into a saddlebag and pulling out a sheaf of dispatches Rienzo didn’t even know he had. He sorted through them and pulled one out, handing it to Kane.
Kane drew a poignard and ripped through the heavy linen envelope, pulling out a sheaf of papers. He glanced at the opening paragraph and nodded.
“Colonel, the regiment will prepare for movement. Three days rations, combat gear, two remounts for every rider. Leave all the horses that aren’t entirely up to par.”
“May I ask where we are going?” Rienzo said, his brow wrinkling.
“No, you may not,” Kane answered, folding the papers and stuffing them in his doublet. “But you can assure yourself that fell deeds await.”
The Blood Lord came to attention and rapped on the door, twice.
“Come.”
At the word the soldier marched into the room and took the position of parade rest, looking two decimeters above the head of the NCO at the desk.
“Gunnery Sergeant, Captain Jackson has received a warning order of a possible heavy attack. The majority of the Destiny fleet appears to be headed this way along with a sizeable landing contingent.”