“Is everything alright over there?”
Finn looked up from the tray of tea, still skiddish from what he’d seen. The general and his officers were all staring at him, questioning.
“E-everything’s alright, sirs,” Finn said. “I’m afraid that Miss Brewer was feeling under the weather, so I asked her to rest. I’ll be handling the refreshments from here on out.”
“Today has been tough on all of us,” General Fleischer said. “I think I speak for everyone here when I say that.”
Everyone around the table began to nod.
Finn breathed a sigh of relief as he brought the tea over. Good: it looked like nobody had noticed anything was amiss.
“Thank you, Major,” General Fleischer said as Finn set the tray of tea down on the table. He picked up his cup and took a sip. “Now, for our topic of discussion.” He held up the small stack of letters he had in front of him. “These letters are from second and third divisions. All of them are a couple days behind their objectives. No word from Admiral Lane as of yet. In order to maintain a solid front ,we’re going to have to maintain a camp here until the second and third reach their objectives.”
“Pardon me, sir, but won’t that slow our momentum?” Brigadier General Eyring asked.
“I’m afraid so,” General Fleischer said. “We should, however, be able to avoid digging in like we did in Kurzh.”
Everyone at the table fidgeted, uncomfortable. Nobody wanted a repeat of Kurzh. Finn still had nightmares of bitter cold and a stomach cramped with hunger. And the image of Kurzhians eating the dead. And he knew for a fact that everyone else involved in the Kurzhian Campaign felt the same way, even if it was taboo to even mention it.
“Do we know what the Caithians know, general?” Major General Eicher, General Feischer’s spymaster, asked.
“That’s our next item of business,” General Fleischer said. “Major: the map, if you would.”
Finn nodded and unrolled the map at his feet onto the table. It was a map of Caithia, with notes made in blue for the Gisken line and red for where the Caithian line once was.
“Our next town, gentlemen, is going to be a challenge,” General Fleischer said. He pointed at a dot circled in red, labeled Airde. “Airde’s the first major town past the Gisken-Caithian border. Population-wise, Airde was approximately two-thousand souls, with nearly half of those being Watchmen stationed at Fort Airde, one of the largest forts for the Watch in the country. As well as the main fort used for training and initiation.”
Everyone at the table shot glances at one another. They all knew what that meant.
“Now, even if this fort isn’t the location of the Godswater, they aren’t going to fall easily,” General Fleischer continued. “If they’re anything like their commander, they’re resourceful, and they won’t stop until they physically can’t fight, anymore. We’ll need to strike hard and fast to avoid dragging out a battle. And to do that, we’ll need intelligence on what they know, especially on whether or not they know we’re here.” General Fleischer turned to Major General Eicher. “Do you have one or two men that you’d trust to do reconnaissance in Airde?”
Major General Eicher nodded. “I’ll brief them immediately after this, sir.”
“Excellent.” General Fleischer turned toward brigadier General Vasiliev, the man in charge of Kurzhian conscripts in the Gisken army. “Any news from Kurzh, yet?”
“News no good, sir,” he said in halting Gisken. “Orovich riots. They wish for General Kurzhak to have freedom. There is anger in my ranks.”
Of course. The people of Kurzh had been demanding that General Kurzhak, the man who’d lead the Kurzhian Confederation Army, be released from prison since he was first arrested and forced to sign the Treaty of Ilyaskoe. It seemed as if they’d been rioting ever since, no matter what they did to dissuade them. Including conscripting the sons of known seditionists.
General Fleischer’s eyes narrowed. “Will you be able to maintain control of your men, Brigadier General? Or will I be forced to intervene, again?”
Brigadier General Vasiliev’s face paled. Everyone else looked away. All of them understood what that meant. Brigadier General Vasiliev was the second man to hold his position. Brigadier General Orlov, his predecessor, had allowed an insurrection to mount among the Kurzhian conscripts. General Fleischer had him and every other office involved shot. Regular soldiers who’d rebelled were sentenced to five years hard labor, a virtual death sentence. The consequences for insurrection were clear: death in battle was less painful than what would happen if they rebelled.
“I-I can do it,” Brigadier General Vasiliev said quietly.
“Excellent.” General Fleischer looked to Finn. “Major: once this is over, draft a letter to Governor Hesse. Make it clear that rioting is to be dealt with with extreme prejudice.”
Finn nodded. “Yes, sir.”
General Fleischer nodded, then looked to the other men at the table. “Any other business?”
Nobody said anything.
General Fleischer gave a curt nod. “We’ll meet back here this evening to celebrate the promotions of Major Ackers and Lieutenant Levegh. In the mean time, Major General Eicher: brief two men on the reconnaissance mission in Airde. They should be stepping off by dusk.”
“Yes, sir,” Major General Eicher said with a nod.
“Gentlemen, if any of you have any questions, please do not hesitate to send a runner my way,” General Fleischer said. “As we discussed, at the beginning of the meeting, priorities for the day remain the elimination of security threats, as well as finding housing for troops who will be stationed in Thaos long-term. Notify me if any challenges arise with those goals. Major Ackers, I’ll need a word with you in private. The rest of you, gentlemen, are dismissed.”
Everyone in the room stood, saluted, then began to file out, until General Fleischer and Finn were alone.
“What do you need, sir?” Finn asked.
“What did Miss Brewer try to pour into the tea?”
Finn felt the blood drain from his face.
“Not honey, judging by the look on your face,” General Fleischer observed. His tone was flat, steady. The way it was when he was on the verge of snapping.
Finn began to stutter: “S-sir, I-“
General Fleischer closed his eyes in consternation, holding a hand up.
Finn bit his lip.
“You have one chance to answer this question, and only one,” General Fleischer said. “Why did you act as if nothing happened?”
Finn could feel his hands shaking. His mind raced to find the right answer: his life depended on it.
“Descalation, sir,” he finally said. “I wanted to descalate the situation. B-before it turned into another Ledic.”
General Fleischer winced at the mention of that town. Likely remembering the shot. Finn remembered it, too: he’d been standing next to the general when the bullet ripped through his stomach, nearly killing him. He also remembered the screams as the townspeople – men, women, and children – were killed and the town razed in retribution for the attempted assassination.
“I want to avoid another Ledic, too,” General Fleischer said quietly. “But there comes a time when mercy must fall away to justice. The people here must be shown that the Gisken Imperial Army will not tolerate insurrection.”
Finn’s chest ached. He knew exactly what that meant.
“How long do I have?” Finn asked quietly.
“You’ll execute her at dawn.”
Dawn.
“You still disagree with me, don’t you?”
“I just… sorry, sir.”
“I understand: believe me, I do,” General Fleischer said. “Tough decisions are sometimes necessary, however. I promise you: I don’t make this decision lightly.”
Finn knew that. He also knew that it didn’t matter: the next morning, he would have to kill a girl grieving the murder of her father.
“You’re dismissed, Major,” General Fleischer said. “Write the letter to Governor Hesse. I’ll see you at the dinner, tonight.”
Finn stood up and saluted. Already, he was dreading the dinner.
How was he supposed to celebrate a promotion with what he had to do in the morning hanging over him?
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