‘It is hard to see that nursing a Holmland spy back to health is in the interests of Albion, for instance.’
‘Ex-Holmland spy,’ Aubrey mumbled, his thoughts elsewhere. Had he been acting against Albion?
‘And what about in Stalsfrieden? You had a herd of giant concrete animals at your disposal. You could have killed all the Holmland soldiers stationed there.’
‘It mightn’t have been as easy as you think. I barely had those beasts under control,’ Aubrey said, but he remembered the chaotic events as they escaped the clutches of Baron von Grolman. Did he overlook a chance to wreak even more havoc?
‘Don’t forget what you’ve done here,’ von Stralick continued. ‘You’ve saved the population of an entire Holmland village from being killed. Is that in the interests of Albion?’
‘I made sure Albion wasn’t blamed for a massacre, that’s all. Now Dr Tremaine doesn’t have an outrage to rally ordinary Holmlanders behind.’
‘Then you went on and saved the village from any reprisals.’
‘More of the same. It makes good strategic sense, protecting Albion’s interests.’
‘And that is all?’
It was Aubrey’s turn for silence. Behind them, his friends and the Enlightened Ones were outlined against the glow of the fire, talking in low, casual murmurs. ‘I don’t like to see innocent people being hurt,’ he said eventually. ‘Sorry.’
‘Tcha! Don’t be afraid of compassion, Fitzwilliam. It is one reason that I am giving you this file.’
‘What?’ Aubrey blinked and ran a hand over the dossier. ‘Er, any other reasons?’
‘You think about your actions instead of blindly going ahead. That reassures me that I’m doing the right thing.’
Aubrey cleared his throat. Was it getting cold? ‘I appreciate it, Hugo.’ He opened the file and raised an eyebrow at the assorted photographs of Holmland generals and political leaders. Good portrait quality photographs. ‘And what exactly is the Supreme Army Command planning next?’
‘It’s all in there,’ von Stralick said. ‘Feints, withdrawals, build-ups. I spent most of the journey here piecing it together, and I’m not sure that I have it all straight, but it looks as if the generals want to push into Gallia via Divodorum rather than through the north-west.’
‘I had fears that this could be the case.’
‘Troops have been falling back and digging in on the western front to hold the line.’ Von Stralick leaned forward and sifted through papers. ‘All other capacities will be directed to the Divodorum region. A massive effort will be made to break through into Gallia and crush its resistance. Soon.’
Aubrey had a moment of insight. This could be a pivotal moment on which the entire outcome of the war depended. Like a boulder balanced on the peak of a hill, a push and it would roll one way, a different push and it would roll the other.
If this Holmland plan were successful, the world that this would create wouldn’t be one that Aubrey would be happy living in. A battle to break through at Divodorum could be big enough to present the world with an immortal Dr Tremaine.
Reasons aplenty to stop this from happening, but Aubrey also spared a thought for the men on the ground. He’d had a glimpse of the developing war front when they’d skirted the trenches outside Divodorum and what he had seen was the dusty, benighted plight of the infantry, dug in amid the blood and terror, holding their positions or trying to advance inch by inch. He remembered the lads who were joining up when George and he had attempted to do the same. Had they met their fate in the squalor that was the trenches?
If Aubrey could do something to prevent these ordinary men from being ground away, stone against stone, that was reason enough to risk his own life – and the life of his friends, loath though he was to contemplate this.
‘Note how the generals talk about strategic aims,’ von Stralick said, ‘and tactical movements and battleground outcomes. From their vantage point, well behind the lines, it all makes sense.’
‘I’m sure it does. To them.’ Aubrey hummed a little, thinking. ‘Thank you, Hugo. You’ve given me something else to worry about.’
‘My pleasure, Fitzwilliam. In the time I have known you, I’ve come to think that I’d rather have you worrying about a problem than most other people.’
Von Stralick flipped an ironic salute then slipped off, taking his lantern with him. Aubrey watched the night, the moving figures that were the Enlightened Ones, the shapes of the humble buildings of Korsur, and he reluctantly made an effort to take this new ball of worries and roll it to the corner of his mind.
26
The three lorries were a ragtag assortment, but they were efficient and reliable. They made short work of any grade but the steepest, and laughed when two shallow streams needed fording where bridges had been blown up – but Aubrey found them to be the most uncomfortable mode of transport since their wild escape in the belly of a concrete elephant. The seats in the rear were hard wooden slats, dust was sucked into the passenger area with an efficiency household appliances could only dream of, and the suspension had the almost magical ability to amplify every jolt, bump and judder straight through the chassis into the spine of the unfortunate passengers.
During the journey, sitting in the rear of one lorry with his friends, Aubrey questioned von Stralick, trying to find out more information about the Holmland deployment.
‘Who’s in charge of this?’ he shouted to von Stralick sitting next to him. The back of the lorry was only covered by canvas, so the noise was appalling. Caroline was opposite, doing her best to talk to Sophie and Madame Zelinka, while George was frowning over a Holmlandish newspaper one of the Enlightened Ones had given him. Despite his extraordinary lack of ability with languages, George couldn’t ignore the prospect of a good newspaper.
‘This new push? Since it’s the army alone, the Supreme Army Command is rubbing its hands together at the prospect of glory and stealing a march over the navy. But inside that august body is the Central Staff.’
‘Central Staff? Sounds harmless enough.’
‘The Central Staff is the six most senior generals. It is responsible for the conduct of the war.’
‘Along with the Chancellor.’
‘The Chancellor takes care of the politics, but is cunning enough to realise that running a battle is a specialised task. He leaves the details to the Central Staff.’
Aubrey sat back. Canvas flapped at his back, and he barely noticed the concerned look Caroline flashed him.
‘You’re humming again,’ von Stralick said.
‘Just thinking. How far is it to Divodorum?’
Aubrey desperately wanted to contact the Directorate. He was acutely aware that they were in highly dangerous territory and that they had intelligence that could be crucial to the outcome of the war. It was his duty to let the Albion intelligence services know what was going on.
After discussing it with his friends, the decision was to get to their secret base in Divodorum and use the wireless installation there. The problem was that Divodorum was on the other side of the border. When Caroline, George, Sophie and Aubrey had made the dangerous crossing from Divodorum to Stalsfrieden soon after the Holmlanders attacked, it had been chaos. Avoiding patrols and supply lines had been a heady, perilous business. Trying to get three lorries across would have been impossible if not for the Enlightened Ones.
Madame Zelinka reminded them that, over the centuries, the Enlightened Ones had perfected the art of crossing borders unseen and unmolested. She’d put the matter in the hands of Katya, who had conferred with the passage specialists among the Enlightened Ones. The result was this circuitous journey, which was paralleling the Mosa River and taking them through wilderness that looked as if it had remained undisturbed for years.
‘How far? I have no idea,’ von Stralick said, ‘but I have a feeling that it might be an interesting journey.’