‘Fremont?’ another general burst out. ‘We will all be killed! We must leave this area immediately!’
With uneasy satisfaction, Aubrey noted the confirmation that the Holmland assault was about to fall on this area.
‘It’s acceptable for young Holmlanders to die, but not you?’ Caroline said.
‘We are important men! We do not belong here!’
‘I’ll leave you for a moment to consider the unintended irony of that statement,’ Caroline said.
The Holmlanders huddled, muttering, casting evil glances at Caroline and mostly ignoring Aubrey. He was glad for this. It was about all he could handle.
‘Now, Aubrey,’ Caroline said without taking her eyes from the Holmlanders. Her face was faintly luminous, a sheen on her skin where the burnt cork didn’t reach. Aubrey wondered if dawn were on its way, or if it was the effect of his enhanced eyesight. He was willing to contemplate that he might simply be delirious. ‘What are we going to do with you?’
‘That’s what Matron used to say just before she dosed us with castor oil.’ Speaking still hurt, but he felt as if he’d left agony behind and moved to a steady state, the relativity of pain being brought home in a new and interesting way.
‘I don’t doubt you deserved it, but that’s neither here nor there. You’ve achieved your aim, bringing these men here. Now it’s time for us to get back to the trenches before the artillery bombardment starts.’
‘That’s right. That was part of the plan, wasn’t it?’ Woozily, he groped for his watch, but he had trouble finding the end of his arm. ‘What time is it?’
‘Nearly 0130. Is there anything you want to say to these men before we leave?’
Aubrey nodded. Unwisely, as it proved, for it felt as if his teeth were about to fall out, with minor detonations accompanying each one. After a moment of intense wincing, he hunched himself until he was as upright as he could manage. Bullets continued to crack not far overhead, a reminder, if any was needed, of the peril of their situation.
‘Fitzwilliam,’ Chancellor Neumann snarled, ‘for a boy, you are causing us considerable nuisance. Dr Tremaine was correct in saying we should be wary of you.’
‘I’m flattered that Dr Tremaine thought I was that important.’
‘Important?’ The Chancellor laughed, a strange sound in the middle of no-man’s-land. ‘Tremaine drew up a list of potential problems. You were just below the silting up of the Auldberg Harbour and just above the shortage of rat poison in Tahlversen.’
Aubrey shrugged. He felt he could be philosophical about such slights. ‘You’ve been brought here for a reason.’
‘To kill us all!’ one of the younger generals blustered. Aubrey thought he could be General Ebert, a hero of the same war in which Aubrey’s father had distinguished himself. ‘You are fiends!’
‘You make interesting assumptions,’ Aubrey said. ‘They probably tell us more about your thinking than mine.’
‘What is your purpose, then, in bringing us here if not to murder us?’ the Chancellor said.
‘No-one is murdered in war, Chancellor,’ Caroline said. ‘Many killings, no murders. Hasn’t that ever struck you as strange?’
Chancellor Neumann glanced at Caroline, then dismissed her from his notice. Not a wise move, Aubrey felt. ‘I repeat: what is your purpose?’
Aubrey sighed. ‘I want to stop the war.’
Chancellor Neumann snorted and a laugh or two came from the more hardy of his cronies. ‘That is an easy task, not requiring our presence. Simply convince your father to surrender. The war will end immediately.’
‘I don’t think you understand. I want Holmland to withdraw, to stop this warmongering. For you – all of you – to come to your senses.’
‘Do you think we don’t know about war?’ General Sterne called. ‘We are soldiers!’
‘I’ll warrant you haven’t seen a war like this. It’s a new century. War has changed.’ Aubrey grimaced as the pain in his head reasserted itself. ‘Besides, not all of you are soldiers. How are you liking this, sir?’
Aubrey directed this question to one of those not in uniform, a thin man with a drooping moustache. His grey striped trousers were rapidly losing their expensive look. He shook his head and turned away, flinching as a chatter of machine gun fire bit into the bank of the shell hole and sprayed them all with dirt.
Aubrey pressed on. ‘I’m not so presumptuous as to think I could give you a lesson in politics, but in this new world the generals take orders from the politicians. End this horror, all of you.’ He paused and glanced at the sky. ‘Look around. This isn’t a state for humanity. This is a hell you’ve created – but it’s a hell you can put an end to.’
He took Caroline’s hand. She squeezed it and refused to let go, so he pointed with the other. ‘Gentlemen, your army is just over there, dug into trenches. If you keep your heads down and follow the line of wire, you should reach it. Dozens of your men have managed to. When you’re safely in their midst, look at them. Talk to them. See if this is a fit and proper condition for them. See if you can be proud of this.’
‘Be careful,’ Caroline said to them. ‘They are accustomed to our soldiers raiding their trenches. You don’t want to be mistaken for Albionites, but convincing your men that you are who you say you are may be difficult.’ She gestured with her pistol. ‘Go now.’
Chancellor Neumann glared. ‘You are not serious.’
‘We’re very serious,’ Aubrey said. ‘We’re leaving. You can stay here, if you like, but an artillery bombardment is about to start at any minute.’ If Colonel Stanley made the right arrangements. ‘The only relatively safe place is in that direction. I’d wish you good luck, but I’m not sure how I feel about that so I’ll wish you a soldier’s luck instead.’
The Holmlanders conferred. In the end, General Ebert led the way. He scrambled to the lip of the crater and showed good sense by pausing and scanning the way ahead before crawling over and disappearing into the gloom. One by one they followed, cursing and muttering, until only Chancellor Neumann was left.
‘This will not be forgotten, Fitzwilliam.’
‘I hope not, sir. Lessons are best remembered, not forgotten.’
‘Dr Tremaine won’t be happy with your interference.’
‘You can apologise for me next time you see him.’
‘Hah! That may be sooner than you think, Fitzwilliam.’ Neumann spat on the floor of the crater, then turned and crawled away.
‘Are you ready?’ Caroline asked.
‘Ready for what? A spot of dancing?’ It was a valiant stab at insouciance, but the jest fell flat. This wasn’t a place that fostered humour. His mind drifted back to what Chancellor Neumann had said about Dr Tremaine and he wondered if the rogue sorcerer actually was in the vicinity.
‘To be dragged back to the trenches, if that’s what it takes.’
While being dragged by Caroline wasn’t the worst prospect in the world, Aubrey thought their chances could be better if he propelled himself. Gently, he flexed his arms, then his legs. They burned, as if he’d been exercising to exhaustion point, but they were functional. He’d hurt, but he’d manage. ‘Lead the way. I’ll be right behind you.’ He looked up at the dark grey that was the overcast sky. No stars looked down. ‘What time is it?’
‘Too close to bombardment time.’
Despite the maze of no-man’s-land, they managed to find Captain Robinson’s emplacement again, thanks to Caroline’s impeccable sense of direction. Passwords accepted, they were greeted by the astonished officer and his machine gun crew. Once they’d scrambled into the duckboarded and reveted trench and were surrounded by sandbags Aubrey felt safe for the first time in hours. He shaded his eyes at the faint lantern light, hoping the vision enhancement spell would wear off soon but adding it to his list of bodily woes in a congratulatory binge of self-pity. After all, if he ached, he was alive, and had survived the implementation of an audacious plan.
‘Sleep,’ he said to Caroline. He had his arm on her shoulders, supporting her. Or it may have been the other way around. He was sure that invisible gnomes were hitting each of his joints with hammers, but everything was still moderately wonderful. ‘Which way to our dugout?’