Snow-covered roads slowed their progress. Two of the trucks had been outfitted with plows to lead the way. The weather was largely kind, the skies clear, but when they set up camp in the shelter of an abandoned barn, Freddy shivered through the night in his sleeping bag, and the ground was so hard he seemed to have grown extra bones, just for the sake of them jabbing into the old planks.
Sebastian must have had some sympathy for leaving behind a pampered existence, because he woke Freddy with a cup of hot coffee and a bowl of porridge. “Sleep all right?”
“No.” He laughed, and then coughed. The dry air made his throat sore. He could see his breath in the barn. The sun wasn’t even up yet.
Sebastian was sitting behind him, already bundled up to go. “My first night on the road was not a good one either. I was used to a feather mattress and a warm fire and my dog, Falk. When I left with Ingrid, all I had was a scratchy wool blanket, and she didn’t make coffee for breakfast, I can tell you. She brewed leaves into some horrible tea.”
“You didn’t bring your dog?” Freddy was still missing his cat. Amsel used to keep him warm, too.
“I couldn’t bring a handsome purebred dog along while I was trying to hide my identity. But leaving behind a faithful dog is the worst: You can’t explain it to them. Also, you’re going to make me cry, so let’s not speak of it anymore. Now, get out of your sleeping bag so we can pack it up.”
Supplies were quickly packed back into the trucks, and they set off just after sunrise—which came late, this time of year. Ice on the roads hampered progress, and one of the trucks slid off into a ditch and had to be pushed out. Sebastian had hoped to reach Lingfeldt in two days, but by nightfall they were still two hours away, and with the poor roads, Sebastian reluctantly gave in to another night of making camp. Usually Sebastian was the first one to put up his feet and enjoy a meal when the occasion called for it, but even while everyone else was eating, he was still looking over the map, and while they ate, he reviewed everyone on the lay of the land at Lingfeldt and where they would each go if a battle was already in progress when they arrived.
Freddy slept better that night. The still air smelled of fir and pine and buried memories. It was a homesick feeling, but in a good way. In the morning, excitement pervaded the camp. Freddy had never understood why anyone would choose to be a soldier, but as he rolled up his sleeping bag and wolfed down his breakfast with the other men, he felt a part of something important and invigorating. The prospect of impending death brought everything to life.
As they drove, the foothills of Irminau rose in the distance out of low, soft clouds, dark with evergreens, while the Urobrun River ran along the road to their right, with the train tracks between. Before long, they reached the bridge that crossed a tributary of the Urobrun River and led right into Lingfeldt. This little wedge of land, bordered by rivers on two sides, rested in former Irminauer territory, and it looked Irminauer right down to the little thatched-roof houses among the modern military buildings.
As they pulled in, the base guard was already approaching the trucks. Just as Sebastian had warned, the complex of large buildings, surrounded by walls and guard towers, looked nearly empty, though it stirred to life as Sebastian’s men climbed out of their trucks. The base commander shook Sebastian’s hand. He looked like a man who wasn’t easily impressed—but his mouth was hanging open now.
“Are you the reinforcements I requested?”
Sebastian saluted. “Sebastian Hirsch.”
“Thank god. Commander Opitz. We don’t have much time.”
“How much?”
“Two hours at best. I sent a message to Urobrun, but I figured you wouldn’t be able to get here in time with the roads as they are. Were you stationed nearby? I’ve heard of you, Mr. Hirsch—you’re the young one. Wasn’t your father a baron in Irminau?”
Freddy had almost forgotten Sebastian’s false origin story. “Yes,” Sebastian said.
“Your enemy is a baron as well,” Opitz said. “My intelligence reports that the enemy commander is Baron Best, from the north.”
“I know Baron Best—he’s formidable. One of the king’s closest comrades. They call him the Wolf of the Woods.”
“Chancellor Brunner…he didn’t send you, did he?” Commander Opitz had a careful tone now. Freddy couldn’t tell if he liked Brunner or not, the way he said his name.
“No, I have my own contacts. I left as soon as I suspected. Brunner is stretched too thin to assist.”
Commander Opitz was quiet, regarding Sebastian with a weathered face, clearly twice the age of the young man who had come to offer help outside of the Chancellor’s command.
“My men are veterans,” Sebastian said. “At Brunner’s order, I led the command to take the arsenal in Urobrun. We’ll help you hold the base long enough to get the weapons to safety and destroy the bridge. Otherwise, as I’m sure you’re aware, Best can take them and use them against us.”
Opitz’s face was somber, unmoving as a statue. Freddy could imagine what he must be thinking. Even if he knew Sebastian’s name, Freddy understood how hard it was to trust anyone with the government so fragmented. But after a pause, he nodded. “I’d already started loading the weapons onto the trucks as soon as we knew they were coming, but our numbers are a problem.”
“How many here?”
“A hundred. They must have at least two thousand, probably closer to three thousand.”
Sebastian didn’t react, although Freddy knew this was the upper end of his expectations. “Well, we don’t have to defeat them, we just have to hold them off—and we have, by far, the better position and superior weaponry. Besides that, I have a reviver—and all my men are prepared to die twice. I will leave it to your men to decide if they are also prepared to do so.”
The commander stiffened, and his expression was hard to read. Opitz’s men were looking over Sebastian’s crew with renewed suspicion, and Freddy forced a stoic expression on his face. Sebastian hadn’t introduced him yet, but the moment would come soon. When he was kept secret, he never had to endure such scrutiny.
Freddy wondered if he’d be willing to die twice for his country. He never thought what it would be like to be on the receiving end of his magic, but the people he revived were often disoriented. I have to stay calm. Maybe it will help them, too.
“If one man can live another day because of another man’s sacrifice—I’d say that’s the code we live by, and that includes magic,” Opitz said, glancing around with his ragged gray eyebrows furrowed, but if anyone was afraid to be brought back from the dead, they didn’t admit it.
Sebastian nodded. “Let’s move quickly, then.”
On the supply base’s north side, a high wall faced Irminau, with guard towers at the corners. Freddy was stationed here with the front line. He knew much of what to expect from Sebastian’s maps and meetings. A low hill blocked them from viewing the horizon, so they couldn’t yet see the advancing forces. Fir trees and snow made for a restful scene on these gentle slopes, and yet it was so much larger in scope than it seemed on the map. He had read of battles, but he’d always imagined “the battlefield” as some designated place, as if every town had one parked outside waiting for the next war. Now he realized men would spill blood on the peaceful path ahead.
Within the base, most of the men were working quickly to load crates of guns and ammunition into trucks, while others pulled out with heavy guns on the back of trailers. Although the men worked at a frenzied pace, driving out the trucks drained their numbers. He felt as if he’d only been watching the operations within the base for a few minutes when the rumble of enemy movement drove a low note of danger into the still white forests.
Freddy was nearest to two men he knew; Samuel and Adalbert. Everyone was exchanging blank faces of acknowledgment, shifting the position of weapons, taking one last look at photographs of loved ones, leading Freddy to wonder again, Just who am I fighting for? My own freedom…
It sounded all right, but you couldn’t ta
ke a picture of it.
He put his hand on the wall of the rampart, grounding himself in the feel of cold, hard stone penetrating his glove. His heart hammered in his chest as the sound grew more defined, taking the shape of slow-moving artillery coming around the distant bend. Sebastian had been overseeing operations on the ground, but now he was up on the wall next to Freddy.
The artillery opened fire.
“Duck!” Sebastian shouted, and all the men dropped beneath the wall. Aleksy was on the other side of Sebastian, lending him an arm to help him get up and down quickly without drawing attention.
“They’re just trying to rattle us!” Sebastian told Freddy over the sound of shells hitting the ground outside. The echoes bounced off the hills, making everything seem as if it was happening many times over. The wall absorbed some of the vibration of impact, but he still felt each hit under his feet. A low cloud of smoke drifted over their heads.
Freddy’s magical protection didn’t feel very comforting just now—he felt small next to all the noise. He covered his ears and tried to breathe.
When the artillery ceased, Sebastian’s men slowly raised back up. During the barrage, the enemy had gotten closer. Now the men in front took a few probing shots at the top of the wall.
“Fire back sporadically!” Sebastian ordered. “Hide our numbers! We don’t want them to know any reinforcements arrived.”
Sebastian’s side was cautious as they opened fire, the enemy less so—of course, their numbers now filled the road ahead as far as the eye could see, hundreds of them marching, with more heavy guns at the back. On either side of Freddy, two men went down almost at once. The first one got up and clutched his shoulder, but the other one stayed on the ground. Freddy rushed to his side and took his hand.
His magic flowed; he shut his eyes and tried to block out the noise and the unfamiliar chemical-sweet smell of burnt gunpowder, reaching for the calmest place inside him, trying to help this stranger get back on his feet.
Emotions flashed across the revived man’s face as he realized what Freddy had done—confusion, panic, understanding, determination—all in seconds. He went back to his post, firing again.
Freddy’s hands were shaking.
The man was the first of several to go down from the first wave of direct attack, including two men Freddy knew.
“Thank you, son, I won’t waste it,” one of them said before he got back to work. Freddy squinted, shoving aside tears. They weren’t all so prepared for a heroic last stand. The fifth man he revived got a little hysterical at first, crying and sputtering, “No, no—”
Freddy had let go of his hand when he came back, but now he took it again, trying to force calm. He couldn’t let anyone panic. His presence on the battlefield wouldn’t be much of an advantage then. “Listen,” he said gently. “You’re a brave man, to be here today fighting. I can’t truly save you, I wish I could, all I can grant is the chance for you to save others. The men fighting beside you, and everyone in Urobrun who will be safe from Irminau.”
“My family—”
“Your family is going to be taken care of.” Freddy met his eyes, trying desperately to impart some great courage.
The man turned back to the battle, and Freddy unclenched muscles he barely knew he had.
He glanced behind him during a lull in the fatalities. The trucks were still moving out of the base, one by one—so slowly, it seemed, that this day would never end.
As a few light flakes of snow fell from the gray-white sky on what was otherwise a fairly warm day for the season, Baron Best’s second wave was getting closer to their walls—now with the heavier guns. Some men were running up between them.
Sebastian lowered his binoculars. “They’ve got explosives,” he said, thrusting his arm forward. “Now, open full fire! Don’t let them breach the walls!”
The men followed orders, raining shots on the ground. Due to the hills, most of Best’s men had been funneled into a fairly tight space and were an easy target, although some of them were clambering up the rocks and trees to get height. As their men fell, the bodies were roadblocks to be tripped on and hamper the movement of the guns.
But casualties mounted on Sebastian’s side as well. Freddy was running back and forth now, hardly able to keep up with the fallen men. He counted in his mind as he touched each hand—five, ten, fifteen men down today. Had he ever revived fifteen people in one day? Maybe once or twice. His strength was holding up much better than it ever had with the Valkenraths. It must be because he wasn’t holding on to thousands of people, and because he was fully willing to use this magic.
His stomach still grumbled fiercely, but in the rush of adrenaline, he didn’t care about hunger.
“Guhh!” Aleksy staggered back from the wall, dropped to his knees and then the ground.
“Aleksy!” Sebastian had been looking through the binoculars again, but now he dropped—almost fell—to the ground. He pulled back Aleksy’s shirt, finding the spreading red stain. “Damn it.”
“I’m going,” Aleksy said, closing his eyes.
Sebastian’s mouth twisted. Freddy already had Aleksy’s hand. His eyes fluttered open again and looked at Sebastian.
“Don’t lose morale,” Aleksy said. He clapped his hand over his jacket where Freddy knew he kept the picture of Ilse. “Please. You need to live through this.”
“I know,” Sebastian said.
Aleksy helped Sebastian to his feet again, but Sebastian kept a hand to the wall, looking like he was in pain. Freddy knew, whatever Aleksy might say, Sebastian was shaken by so many losses.
“Sebastian,” Freddy said.
“I don’t know why,” Sebastian spoke so softly Freddy read the words from his lips, “but it’s worse when they come back.”
“It is. But you’d lose more if they didn’t.”
Sebastian clapped his shoulder and looked grim, as if to comfort himself by comforting Freddy, then turned his attention back to the fighting.
But the battle was slowing down. The defenders had been successful in holding against the first wave. The few Irminauer soldiers remaining were trying to clear the bodies of their dead out of the way while just a few men defended them. Freddy had a chance to devour the rations he carried in his pocket to fortify himself for more magic, though at this point twenty of the men on the ramparts and in the guard towers were dead, and a few more had retreated from injuries.
“They made a determined effort to keep the road fairly clear,” Sebastian said, “as if they have something on wheels. But as far as I know, Otto’s behind on technology.”
One of the guards in the towers interrupted him. “Commander Hirsch, sir, there’s something approaching the bend. It looks like crude self-propelled guns.”
“Hmm. Armored?”
“Yes, sir. Iron boxes on wheels, from the looks of it. Steam-powered.”
“I’ll be damned.” Sebastian almost looked intrigued. “But if they work, we might be in trouble.”
“Boy, they must have cobbled those together recently,” Sebastian said, as the guns finally rolled into view on rows of what looked like carriage wheels, dark-gray smoke puffing out the stacks on the back of their iron-riveted bodies. They looked as if they might have been outfitted from old steam-driven tractors.
Their crude bodies didn’t detract from the tension of watching their slow approach as they rolled forward. The steady clack of their engines seemed to build the closer they came. Another wave of soldiers walked with them.
“We need a report,” Sebastian said, looking back toward the base. “How many more loads until we have to move out of here?”
One of the men ran to check and returned quickly. “Sir, there are nine trucks left, but four are the ones we came in, so they’ll only take a small load of ammunition. We can’t take the remaining guns.”
Sebastian rubbed his palms together rapidly. “We’ll try and hold, but tell Opitz we don’t have much longer if we can’t take out those tanks. He should start making prepar
ations to blow up what’s left and move out.”
“Yes, sir.”
No sooner had the messenger departed than one of the armored vehicles stalled out. This was obviously not intentional; immediately a few of the men on the ground stopped to poke at it while the other two vehicles kept moving.
“Ha!” Adalbert jeered. “What do Irminauers know about tanks, anyway?”
The men cheered from the wall as the crew of the vehicle climbed out. “What a piece of junk!”
“If they all broke down it would be our lucky day, but I wouldn’t bet on it,” Sebastian said. The other two tanks were almost within range, while a striking figure appeared at the bend, his plumed hat and shaggy black horse visible from a distance.
“Let me guess—Baron Best?” Freddy asked.
“What? Oh—” Sebastian shifted his view. “Yes. That’s him, all right, and his horse, Brigand.” He turned his back to the army briefly. “I was hoping he’d stay in the back.”
“Do you think he’ll recognize you after all this time?”
“If he thinks I’m dead, I don’t think he’ll recognize me—not from a distance like this. But if any rumors have leaked out, well, that’s another matter if he’s actively looking for me.” Sebastian tugged his scarf away from his neck, like he felt choked at the thought of encountering anyone from home. “Could they load those trucks any slower?”
“Well, every time one drives out, that’s one less man,” Aleksy said.
“I know.” Sebastian checked on the guns. “They’re almost in range. Men, ready your weapons! Try to hit those guns in a weak spot—we can’t let them reach the walls!” He tapped his hand against his thigh restlessly, as if he now wanted the vehicles to move faster. “Fire!”
Freddy realized his heart was pounding along with the guns, but his emotions felt like they had ceased functioning in the heat of battle. There was no room for fear or sorrow—that could come later, when he was no longer needed. The infantry on the ground fired back, trying to protect their heavy equipment, and Freddy’s internal count resumed. Twenty-two down, twenty-three down…
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