Svoboda curled his lip. "Looters often do that, Miss Horton. You can't let troops sack a city and not expect damage. The outcome was predictable, Colonel. Many townspeople took to the hills, particularly the miners. They've taken several of the mining towns back."
Captain Svoboda shrugged helplessly. "The railway is cut. The city itself is secure, but I can't say how long. You only left me a hundred and fifty troops to control eleven thousand people, which I did with hostages. The governor brought another nine hundred men and that's not enough to rule their way. He's asked Preston Bay for more soldiers."
"Is that where the first group came from?" Glenda Ruth asked.
"Yes, Miss. A number of them, anyway."
"Then it's understandable if not excusable, Colonel," she said. "Many ranches on Ford Heights were burned out by Loyalists in the first revolution. I suppose they think they're paying the Loyalists back."
Falkenberg nodded. "Sergeant Major!"
"Sir!"
"Put the Guard in battle armor and combat weapons. Captain, we are going to pay a call on your provisional governor. Alert your men."
"Colonel!" Glenda Ruth protested. "You-what are you going to do?"
"Miss Horton, I left an undamaged town, which is now a nest of opposition. I'd like to know why. Let's go, Svoboda."
City Hall stood undamaged among burned-out streets. The town smelled of scorched wood and death, as if there'd been a major battle fought in the downtown area. Falkenberg sat impassive as Glenda Ruth stared unbelievingly at what had been the richest city outside the capital area.
"I tried, Colonel," Svoboda muttered. He blamed himself anyway. "I'd have had to fire on the Patriots and arrest the governor. You were out of communications and I didn't want to take that responsibility without orders. Should I have, sir?"
Falkenberg didn't answer. Possible violations of mercenary contracts were always delicate situations. Finally he said, "I can hardly blame you for not wanting to involve the Regiment in war with our sponsors."
The Patriot irregular guards at City Hall protested as Falkenberg strode briskly toward the governor's office. They tried to bar the way, but when they saw his forty guardsmen in battle armor they moved aside.
The governor was a broad-shouldered former rancher who'd done well in commodities speculation. He was a skilled salesman, master of the friendly grip on the elbow and pat on the shoulder, the casual words in the right places, but he had no experience in military command. He glanced nervously at Sergeant Major Calvin and the grim-faced guards outside his office as Glenda Ruth introduced Falkenberg.
"Governor Jack Silana," she said. "The governor was active in the first revolution, and without his financial help we'd never have been able to pay your passage here, Colonel."
"I see." Falkenberg ignored the governor's offered hand. "Did you authorize more looting, Governor Silana?" he asked. "I see some's still going on."
"Your mercenaries have all the tax money," Silana protested. He tried to grin. "My troops are being ruined to pay you. Why shouldn't the Fedsymps contribute to the war? Anyway, the real trouble began when a town girl insulted one of my soldiers. He struck her. Some townspeople interfered, and his comrades came to help. A riot started and someone called out the garrison to stop it-"
"And you lost control," Falkenberg said.
"The traitors got no more than they deserve anyway! Don't think they didn't loot cities when they won, Colonel. These men have seen ranches burned out, and they know Allansport's a nest of Fedsymp traitors."
"I see." Falkenberg turned to his provost. "Captain, had you formally relinquished control to Governor Silana before this happened?"
"Yes, sir. As ordered."
"Then it's none of the Regiment's concern. Were any of our troops involved?"
Svoboda nodded unhappily. "I have seven troopers and Sergeant Magee in arrest, sir. I've held summary court on six others myself."
"What charges are you preferring against Magee?" Falkenberg had personally promoted Magee once. The man had a mean streak, but he was a good soldier.
"Looting. Drunk on duty. Theft. And conduct prejudicial."
"And the others?"
"Three rapes, four grand theft, and one murder, sir. They're being held for a court. I also request an inquiry into my conduct as commander."
"Granted. Sergeant Major."
"Sir!"
"Take custody of the prisoners and convene a General Court. What officers have we for an investigation?"
"Captain Greenwood's posted for light duty only by the surgeon, sir."
"Excellent. Have him conduct a formal inquiry into Captain Svoboda's administration of the city."
"Sir."
"What will happen to those men?" Glenda Ruth asked.
"The rapists and murderer will be hanged if convicted. Hard duty for the rest."
"You'd hang your own men?" she asked. She didn't believe it and her voice showed it.
"I cannot allow rot in my Regiment," Falkenberg snapped. "In any event the Confederacy will protest this violation of the Laws of War to the CD."
Governor Silana laughed. "We protested often enough in the last revolution, and nothing came of it. I think we can chance it."
"Perhaps. I take it you will do nothing about this?"
"I'll issue orders for the looting to stop."
"Haven't you done so already?"
"Well, yes, Colonel-but the men, well, they're about over their mad now, I think."
"If previous orders haven't stopped it, more won't. You'll have to be prepared to punish violators. Are you?"
"I'll be damned if I'll hang my own soldiers to protect traitors!"
"I see. Governor, how do you propose to pacify this area?"
"I've sent for reinforcements-"
"Yes. Thank you. If you'll excuse us, Governor, Miss Horton and I have an errand."-He hustled Glenda Ruth out of the office. "Sergeant Major, bring Mayor Hastings and Colonel Ardway to Captain Svoboda's office."
"They shot Colonel Ardway," Svoboda said. "The mayor's in the city jail."
"Jail?" Falkenberg muttered.
"Yes, sir. I had the hostages in the hotel, but Governor Silana-"
"I see. Carry on, Sergeant Major."
"Sir!"
"What do you want now, you bloody bastard?" Hastings demanded ten minutes later. The mayor was haggard, with several days' growth of stubble, and his face and hands showed the grime of confinement without proper hygiene facilities.
"One thing at, a time, Mr. Mayor. Any trouble, Sergeant Major?"
Calvin grinned. "Not much, sir. The officer didn't want no problems with the Guard-Colonel, they got all them hostages crammed into cells."
"What have you done with my wife?" Roger Hastings demanded. "I haven't heard anything for days."
Falkenberg looked inquiringly at Svoboda but got only a headshake. "See to the mayor's family, Sergeant Major. Bring them here. Mr. Hastings, do I understand that you believe this is my doing?"
"If you hadn't taken this city-"
"That was a legitimate military operation. Have you charges to bring against my troops?"
"How would I know?" Hastings felt weak. He hadn't been fed properly for days, and he was sick with worry about his family. As he leaned against the desk he saw Glenda Ruth for the first time. "You too, eh?"
"It was none of my doing, Roger." He had almost become her father-in-law. She wondered where Lieutenant Harley Hastings was. Although she'd broken the engagement long ago and no longer loved him, their fights had mostly been political, and they were still friends. "I'm sorry."