A few minutes later, the room was called to order by a weedy-looking young officer with glasses and a sheaf of papers over his arm. "Everybody? Attention?" From this I assumed he must be Jomini, the young Swiss that Michel had decided was a tactical genius. The room quieted, the two camps about their respective leaders, while he explained the technical parts of the exercise in great detail. Each turn would be five minutes of battle time, and there would be ecological changes as the battle progressed, mirroring the changes in currents of the Nile on the real day. Each team would receive such warning of those changes as a man at the scene might find observable, but no more. The exercise would begin at battle noon, to compensate for the time that Perdiccas had spent moving his men to the island in the morning. Each team could place their initial pieces in order of battle, Perdiccas' men on the island, and Ptolemy's on the left bank in any location.
I watched each side set up. Michel's set up was rather crowded and predictable. It was more a matter of fitting all his units onto the small island than anything else. Subervie chose a rather conservative order of battle, taking the infantry himself in the center with a man I did not know, with more infantry on his left and Honoré with the cavalry and horse archers on the right. There were three young subcommanders, one of whom asked Jomini if the commanders' deaths were possible.
"If the unit to which a commander is attached suffers more than 50% casualties, you may assume that the commander is incapacitated," Jomini said quickly. "Commanders, you should designate a subordinate in that event. You will have to step back along the wall for the remainder of the action if that occurs. And you must be quiet. You can't give orders when you're dead."
"Where are you attached?" Subervie asked Honoré, leaning over his shoulder. I stood behind Honoré, my foot tapping.
"Here," he said, tapping a Companion Cavalry piece on a white horse. "That's me."
"Ready?" Jomini asked. "Marshal Ney, you have the first move."
Michel nodded quietly from across the table. "Renaud?"
One of the young subordinates took up a pool cue and with it reached across the map, gently scooting the first units forward from the island into the Nile, a wedge of five elephants. Behind them, the other elephant units waited, with infantry to the side, moving up to prepare to cross.
"That's not right," I whispered. "It's supposed to be Silver Shields infantry." A chill ran down my back, coldness down my arms. I could imagine it too clearly, the stillness on the riverbank in the heat of the day, the bright sun glancing off their helmets as they waded forward into the water, sarissas leveled. I could see the water flashing reflections of the sun like fire, while far above a falcon turned on the wind.
Honoré leaned in, no doubt assuming I'd read Diodorus the night before too. "He doesn’t have to play it the way it actually happened. That's the point. Gervais has set up with Ptolemy's actual order of battle, but it seems like the Marshal has other ideas. We'll just have to take it as it comes."
"No move," Subervie said steadily. "We're holding position."
Michel moved the elephants forward to midstream, the other elephants following. Behind, the Silver Shields locked into position in the rear of all twenty of Perdiccas' elephants. "Silver Shields, prepare to form the tortoise," he said in the same tone he would have taken in the field, as though it were all real. As though black arrows would rain down upon them when they began to come ashore.
Honoré nodded to his young subordinate. "Horse archers, down behind our infantry. Get in range to fire on the elephants."
So few. My hands clenched together around my reticule, as though this were a real battle, as though I were seeing as the gods might. We have so few horse archers, even with the extra two facings Honoré conned Jomini out of. There are too many elephants.
And then I saw what Michel was doing. He was using the elephants like cavalry. What was lumbering through the water toward us was a flying wedge, a sword with a two-ton point, ready to drive into the phalanxes waiting, snapping sarissas and sending men flying. When the elephants hit shallow water they would increase speed, charging down like a lightning bolt.
I put my hand to my mouth. Surely Subervie could see it! Surely he would! But what was the counter to it, with no elephants of our own?
"No move," Subervie said. "Steady."
Honoré walked over and leaned on his shoulder and they whispered together.
"Forward," Michel said. The elephants moved forward another space. Behind the wedge the Silver Shields stepped into the water in battle order.
Pull the cavalry out of line, I thought. Pull them back. They're going to have to countercharge the side of the wedge after it breaks through. And it will break through. The elephants will go through our line like fire.
"Can we do that in one move?" Subervie said in a low voice.
"I don't know," Honore replied, "But we'd better try, don't you think?"
Subervie nodded sharply.
"Your move?" Jomini asked. He was standing on a chair where he could see the board from above.
"Reille, pull the cavalry back. Out of line and toward the center. Infantry, divide in two and prepare to change facing," Subervie said.
"Objection," Michel said mildly. "They have leveled sarissas. They can't divide and change facing in one move. If they do it, there's a chance they'll foul each other."
"Crack troops," Honoré said. "These men are veterans of Alexander the Great's army. They can walk and scratch their ass at the same time."
A ripple of laughter ran around the room. Meanwhile, one of the subcommanders was pulling Ptolemy's Companion Cavalry back, just on the line I would have chosen. They would be in position on the right flank of the wedge when it came through. But I seriously doubted the infantry could divide in time.
"On a five or six," Jomini said, and tossed something to Gervais Subervie.
He caught it with a flick of the wrist and sent it spinning across the table, a black and white die. It came to rest with five pips showing.
Honoré whooped. "Now we're back in business," he said to Michel.
"Divide in two and change facing to the middle," Gervais said. "Couch sarissas and stand to receive!"
Stand to receive! Echoes woke in my head, spiraling away like distant horns. The riverbank and bright sun…stand to receive….
"Your move, Marshal?" Jomini asked.
"Turn the wedge 45 degrees right," Michel said coolly. "We're going into their left rather than center. And there should be contact on this turn."
"Oh shit," I whispered, forgetting I should be quiet, forgetting I was a lady at all. I could see how it would be, the phalanx in the middle of changing facing, the elephants changing their line of approach toward our left, where our cavalry could do no good with the main body of our infantry in between, the elephants charging straight toward the units to which Subervie was attached, driving straight for Ptolemy's white plume…. There was no way we could get over in time.
The lines moved together, the first elephants occupying the same space as the infantry. Only now the infantry were facing in the wrong direction.
"40% bonus for the flank, 20% bonus for elephants on infantry, 20% bonus for the charge," Jomini said. "That's 80-20 in Perdiccas' favor. Colonel Subervie, you can consider those front units 80% incapacitated."
"Shit shit shit," I whispered, clasping my hands to still them.
"Horse archers to the fore," Honoré said, white lipped. "We're barely in range."
"You're still in the penalty zone," Jomini said. "30% dropoff for extreme range."
"We'll take the shot anyway," Honoré said.
There was an exchange of fire, some damage. The cavalry was working their way around, but could not engage on this turn.
"Change the facing back," Subervie said.
"Not while engaged on the flank," Michel said tranquilly.
Jomini nodded. "I uphold Marshal Ney."
Subervie snorted. "This is going to be shorter than Cunaxa," he said under his breath.
/>
"Forward elephants," Michel said. "Press the charge straight into the rank behind. Silver Shields, form the tortoise against horse archer's fire." The Silver Shields were nearly on dry land.
"Now would be a really good time for some crocodiles," I muttered.
"We have 60% damage on your attached unit," Jomini said to Subervie. "You must consider yourself incapacitated, sir."
"Damn!" Subervie swore and stepped back to the wall, Ptolemy down under the feet of the elephants.
"The command is yours, General Reille," Jomini said. "He had designated the Hipparch of Companion Cavalry in this instance."
I gulped. "The river…." I whispered.
Jomini had heard me. "Does not rise for four more turns, Madame."
"By which point I'll be out of the water," Michel said smugly.
I clenched my fists.
A sub-lieutenant hurried in, dashing up to Michel, who bent so that he could whisper in his ear.
I saw his face change as they exchanged a few words and then Michel turned. "My apologies, gentlemen. I'm afraid we must call this exercise to a close. I have just been informed that the Emperor is five kilometers from Boulogne, and is arriving a day early. Subervie, Marshal Lannes would like you back in Boulogne directly. Everyone with VI Corps, please prepare to turn out for review this afternoon instead of tomorrow. Reille, I want a Guard Cavalry honor guard in Boulogne in an hour!"
Everyone started running madly about, with the controlled chaos of a military unit about to be unexpectedly reviewed by a head of state. I didn’t even see Subervie leave, so fast was it.
I was standing by Honoré's coat as he came over to get it, still talking to Michel. "Well done, considering," Michel said to Honoré. "You were in a bind."
"If you'd been the Regent for Alexander's son, Ptolemy wouldn't have won," Honoré said.
Michel looked at him, a rueful expression on his face. "If I'd been the Regent, Ptolemy would have never had to take up arms."
"A different ending," Honoré said. He paused a moment as if thinking, then shrugged. "I'd better go find that honor guard."
Echoes
I dreamed, and in my dream I fought on horseback on the riverbank, a sword in my right hand, the reins wrapped around my withered left hand. I fought on the riverbank under the scorching sun of midsummer, steel breastplate on fire from the heat, and about my horse's legs I felt the river rise.
"Get back! Everybody out of the water!" I shouted. The current swirled sharply, mud and blood and all else whirling on the waters, dark as creation, dark as the beginning of the world. Swollen by rains in distant lands, I felt the Nile rise. Elephants trumpeted and wounded men screamed, while far above on the winds of day a desert falcon turned on the wing, watching over the slaughter below.
Son of Egypt, you have your miracle, something whispered within me. Son of Egypt, you are whole.
I woke, and there were tears on my face. They did not flow for sadness, but for the beauty of it, for the completeness of that moment, for things I did not remember, waking. I sat up in my bed in the cottage. It was two hours yet till dawn, the cool morning of another beautiful summer day.
Had I been there? Had that battle they had played yesterday been mine? It seemed the most incredible arrogance to think so.
And why not, some part of me wondered. Because I now wore a woman's body? If I were a man, I should be a soldier. There was no reason to think I would be worse at it than Corbineau or Subervie. Arrogance or not, I was no less than they. Were I a man I would be here still, a student of the School of War, perhaps a member of the same Lodge.
Only I would not be the Dove. I sat a moment in the dark before dawn. I would not be the Emperor's agent, charged to find a spy. If I had that life, I would not have this. If I had those talents, I would pay for them with others.
No one gets everything, I thought, at least not at once. Given world enough and time, perhaps I could play all parts. But not at once. If I were a man, I would be a soldier and magician. But then I would not be Dove or the Emperor's agent. And those things were valuable too. In fact, there were many apprentices in the Lodge, but I was the only Dove. Lannes would surely rather have me with my unique mix of talents than another Corbineau. After all, he already had one of those.
Seized with restless energy, I got up and dressed by starlight, a thin white lawn dress that I would not hate in the heat of the day, and walked outside in the cool hour before dawn. It did occur to me to bring a pistol, which I tucked neatly inside an oversized crocheted reticule. Perhaps I would go up to the cliffs and see how the watchers fared. At least I could see if Lion were there, going back and forth in her endless patrol, waiting for a lantern signal.
I knew that I couldn't sleep again.
The moon was setting in the west, and the sea grasses blew softly in the dawn breeze. Below the cliffs, the breaking waves showed white against dark water. The sea was empty. Lion was not in sight, too far out to sea to be seen, or off about some business of her own. It was very clear. A distant pinprick of light on the horizon might have been a ship, or it might have been England.
I was not surprised to see Michel. The way he stood, the set of his shoulders, was unmistakable silhouetted against the sea. His hat was under his arm, and he had no lantern. I came and stood beside him and he did not even flinch, as though he had expected me. We stood for a moment in moonlight above the precipice below, the sea sighing and receding below us as the tide began to go out. We stood, and for a moment I was very aware of us, of who we were just that moment, of the whisper of my white dress against my legs, the sea breeze flirting with my uncurled hair where it escaped from the bonnet, of the way he looked in profile, his face less than handsome and more dear than treasures.
"Why didn't you tell me you were the Emperor's agent?" he asked quietly, his eyes on the sea.
"Who told you that?" I asked, lifting my face to the night breeze.
"The Emperor." He glanced sideways at me. "You could have told me that. I thought you trusted me that far."
"Michel, it's not mine to tell," I said. "I have a job. I have work to do. Yes, I wanted to tell you. But I couldn't."
"You could have."
I tilted my chin up, looking him full in the face. "Really? When is the invasion? What is the embarkation date? If you've just come from a meeting with the Emperor, surely you know."
Michel swallowed, and in the moonlight his eyes were shadowed. "I can't tell you that."
"You could if you wanted," I countered.
"Elza, fewer than thirty men know the plan, and half of them only found out tonight. I can't tell you."
"Then do not ask me to confide in you things that I should not," I said. I put my hand on his arm, as he was standing so very close. "I am a Companion too, with my own oaths and my own work. The time is past when I would have been here only for you."
Michel's eyes roved over my face, as though looking for something, and I was acutely conscious that I had not even combed my hair before I came out. I was not far short of thirty, and I had not touched the rouge pot. "So different," he said, "And so much the same. Dark hair, dark eyes, but your expressions are the same." He reached up and touched my cheek with one finger. "You're fair, not dark, but even the shape of your face is the same."
"As who's?" I asked, trying not to let my voice choke at the expression on his face.
"I don't know your name." He shook his head sadly. "It doesn't work that way for me."
I lifted my eyes to his and made the guess that had been in my mind since the moment he began speaking of that memory during the ritual. "Not a dark lady."
"No." He half turned, toward the sea, away from me.
"Michel, what does it matter?" I asked. "We are more than these costumes we wear, now or in centuries to come. My soul knows yours, and love is without end. What does it matter if then I was a Companion cavalryman who worshipped you?"
His face was in profile. I could not see his expression clearly. "What ever happened to you
?" he asked quietly. "I've wondered. What happened to you, in the bloodbath after my death?"
I blinked, knowing that my eyes filled with tears. Of course he would wonder that. Of course he never knew what happened to me. I had never reached for it quite like this, but it was simple as breathing, tonight in the moonlight on the cliff, the day's game behind me. "I lived," I said simply. "I lived forty years after you. I fought beside Ptolemy in that battle you staged today. I had the job Honoré played today, Hipparch of Ptolemy's cavalry. I was not flattened by an elephant, and we won the battle, the gods of Egypt fighting beside us. I lived, and I had a lover I cherished. I married a priceless woman, and I came to love her and our children that came after. I fought at Rhodes and in Syria, and carried Ptolemy's banner on many fields before I was old." My mouth ran on as fast as my vision, my voice choking. "I had a house by the sea with a garden, and my grandchildren played in the shade of the peach trees. The gods blessed me every day of my life."
A single tear ran down his face. "You did all right, then," he said.
"Yes. I did all right." I put my hand on his arm. "I helped found a city that became the greatest in the world, and kept alive the memory of the time that was, of all that I had known and those I had cherished. I could ask for nothing more than to hold that standard proudly again in my own time. Love is without end, Michel. And nothing is gone while I remember it."
"And you remember forever, and in your words conjure new worlds, or raise places long lost like Atlantis rising from the sea," he said. "You are a witch."
"I expect I've been burned as one," I said levelly, "But I'd rather not think about that right now."
"So have I," he said.
I put my head on his shoulder, my cheek against his gold oak leaves. "I thought that was as a heretic."
"Heretic, sorcerer, worshipper of Baphomet…" There was almost a smile in his voice as he turned, leaning against me as I leaned against him. "I've lost track of all the charges."
"As I recall the Templars were also accused of sodomy," I said, and felt him stiffen. "Beloved, whatever you may remember, here and now I am very conveniently a woman. We got along well enough before, in spite of Charles."
Jo Graham - [Numinous World 05] Page 28