Deus lo Vult

by Carlo Zen

  “I’m against it. I absolutely oppose.”

  His eyes had nearly popped out of his head when he opened the letter. He would never accept this. Obsessed to distraction, he had gotten little work done in the morning and hardly touched his food. As the lone voice of opposition among the high-ranking officers at the table, he fought fiercely to defend his position.

  “Colonel von Lergen, I very much respect your opinion, but you must be more objective.”

  Unfortunately, his immediate superior, Brigadier General von Rudersdorf, deputy director of operations in the General Staff, did not support his perspective. After all, this was part of the tactical improvements he had been waiting for. He couldn’t be expected to give up so easily. But to Lergen, who had seen the situation on the ground with his own eyes, the proposal was too dangerous.

  “Giving her command of the quick response battalion is out of the question. She’s the kind who won’t stop advancing until everyone is dead. You’d be throwing your mages away!”

  First Lieutenant von Degurechaff had been promoted to captain upon graduation from the war college. He had been afraid of this, but there was still time to change things. He had let his guard down, thinking she could still possibly be put in Technology or the instructor unit. He never imagined that the brass would create an experimental battalion under her direct command.

  Oh my God! That would be nothing short of a nightmare. She’s too dangerous. That paper showcases her true nature.

  “Yes, we’ve heard your objections, but the instructors at the war college say she loves her soldiers.”

  It was true that some of the teachers at the academy supported Lergen’s view. They said she was a bit too fond of combat.

  But the instructors at the war college thought differently. They said that even under in the harshest conditions during the staff trip, she looked out for troops and avoided losses. Their conclusion was that she couldn’t have done what she did without meaning it. That carried a decisive weight in the General Staff, which was made up of war college grads.

  “She has a lust for battle, but she still retains her right mind and avoids any type of loss.” In sum, they had judged her character to be superior.

  “Don’t you think you’re overly captive to your prejudices?”

  “With all due respect, have you not seen the reports from her days at the academy?”

  Unwilling to give in, he had found the most damning documents about her and submitted them for consideration. But Lergen himself was a staffer who had graduated from the war college. He knew without thinking whose judgment would count for more. It was the way of the military to trust those who were closest to you.

  “Ultimately, I believe we can say she has matured through education. The war college reported no issues.”

  If she had been the cause of any trouble at the war college, her evaluations would have been poor. But instead she graduated with honors and was selected as a knight. She was flawless.

  “Her behavior isn’t the result of education—it’s who she really is! We can’t possibly entrust a battalion to her!”

  He at least had to make his opposition known. He couldn’t run away from his duty as a soldier, even if it damaged his career. If she was given a battalion, it was possible that its members would all die by her hands before even encountering the enemy. As a soldier, he couldn’t allow it.

  “If nothing else, she’s too young, and her rank is too low!”

  “Lieutenant von Degurechaff’s promotion to captain has already been decided. She shouldn’t be stuck commanding a company; she’s worthy of a battalion.”

  “The Empire can’t afford to let a capable soldier languish. You should know that.”

  The higher-ups had already made their decision. Once Lergen heard Rudersdorf arguing their point, he knew he was finished. This was to help solve the urgent problem of quick response. The brass was prepared to look the other way if the problems were minor.

  “Then she should be returned to the instructor unit or sent to do research. She’s a child. Do you not know how innocently cruel children can be?”

  He tried taking a different tack. The General Staff traditionally welcomed debate, in the belief that a variety of viewpoints reduced errors.

  “Colonel von Lergen, we’ll hear you out. But this matter has already been decided.”

  “It’s the General Staff’s decision. I believe you know what that means.”

  Conversely, once the debate was over, no further dissent was tolerated. They encouraged thorough discussion, but once policy was decided, they sought to carry it out with a united front and no hitches. Failure to fall into line meant being expelled from the General Staff.

  “…Do excuse me, sir.”

  So essentially, they’ve already decided? Lergen’s shoulders slumped. There had never been a day that the General Staff aiguillette looked so repugnant to him, but he could control himself. In fact, in principle, it was unthinkable that he would harry Central like this. Still, his sense of unease persisted.

  “All right. A new battalion will be formed under Captain von Degurechaff, as planned.”

  “Prepare a promotion to major and orders regarding the battalion command to be issued once assembly of the unit is complete.”

  “That’s that. Let’s move on to the next subject.”

  …Will this really be all right?

  “Well, seeing is believing.”

  That’s Tanya’s honest reaction to the food sitting on the plate the orderly puts in front of her.

  She knows it goes by the name schlachtplatte. She doesn’t dislike the stuff, and it’s a braised dish, which is hard to come by on the battlefield. Of course, the heat ruins all the vitamin C, which also tends to be in short supply in the trenches; only in the rear can such an extravagant dish be enjoyed.

  This dining room is also used by those returning from the front, and she appreciates the idea of offering menu items you can only get back here. One could argue it was a way of showing that they were getting by with the same amount of resources as were allocated to the front and not just partying.

  That much is all well and good.

  The problem is the pork, which tastes not so much sour as it does like a block of salt. On top of that, it’s undercooked. She can only marvel at how bad it is; if it didn’t come with potatoes, she would have simply thrown it in the trash.

  To add insult to injury, the bread they served was K-Brot.20 Apparently, they do it for promotion and popularization purposes, but frankly, the navy’s rye bread has better flavor and nutritional value. She would have liked to demand that they just serve the wheat and potatoes separately, like normal.

  If she went to the navy cafeteria, she could get better food, she’s sure, despite the fact that both places are operating on the same budget.

  The reason is simple. The army would never say a word about it, but it’s an open secret that because they spent too much money furnishing their dining room, they now have to budget to make up for it. Plus, unlike the navy, the army seems content with subpar food, a situation which does not inspire the creativity of the chefs—not to mention the frequent turnover in cook staff means there’s no chance for skill to develop.

  Supposedly, they are able to get this K-Brot because it is the cheapest, least popular kind. The food at the army banquet room at the General Staff Office doesn’t even measure up to the offerings in the navy’s gun rooms, let alone the wardrooms of which it is so proud. She’s simply astonished at the army’s staunch refusal to accept the navy’s point about their budget squandering. Are they trying to beat the Commonwealth in a contest for world’s worst food? Even haggis would be better.

  No one would ever eat this out of personal preference.

  “What do you think, Captain? It’s the General Staff Office special.”

  No, she wouldn’t come here out of personal preference, but an invitation from Colonel von Kordel from General Staff Personnel and Brigadier General von Zettour from the Ser
vice Corps can’t be refused.

  “To be frank, sir, I can’t help but be impressed—especially the way it reminds me the battlefield is everywhere.”

  “Ha-ha-ha-ha! A fine answer, don’t you think, General von Zettour?”

  She has to take care to remain polite in her response to Zettour’s question while revealing her true feelings. She knows soldiers are expected to put up with poor food, but isn’t this taking it a little far?

  They seem to like her response quite a bit, though. Even Kordel is smiling in amusement. “Perhaps we should call this place the Perpetual Battlefield Café,” he muses. “Your attitude is commendable, Captain, but please don’t hold back.”

  “Oh no, I’ve had my fill. Please don’t mind me.”

  Apparently, they aren’t here for the flavor, either.

  “Are you sure? You’re a growing girl—you need to eat.”

  “I’m always doing my best to eat, sir, but I have a small stomach.”

  The comment comes from Zettour, whose position means he can use—and is stuck using—the General Staff Office banquet room. He probably ribs the new General Staff appointees in the same way. Tanya knows that some of the war college instructors like to joke a bit now and then.

  But that’s only until the meal is finished.

  Kordel tells the orderly clearing their dishes to bring coffee and then leave them be for a while; that’s when the real talk begins.

  “All right, let’s get down to business. Oh, and belated congratulations on your promotion, Captain von Degurechaff.”

  It was Kordel himself who authorized her to be promoted to captain immediately upon graduation from the war college. Now he seems to be making an obvious point of congratulating her.

  “Thank you, Colonel.”

  Tanya was forced to sit in a higher chair because of her stature, but even when she straightens her back, she has to look up to see his face. Still, she expresses her gratitude in a clear voice that is the exact stereotype of what a commissioned officer should sound like.

  She knows that in the large organization known as the military, examples are meant to be followed.

  And in fact, the colonel from Personnel, whom she has never met before, is giving her a wide, familiar smile. He’s only doing it because he’s supposed to, but courtesy is never meaningless. At the very least, it’s a tool you can use to probe your opponent’s vulnerabilities during negotiations.

  She speaks grandly, despite the total disinterest she feels. The promotion papers have already been issued.

  She knows already, without the colonel’s kind congratulations. Just like she knows that the really important matter is the one they are about to discuss.

  “Now, we didn’t call you here just to say well done on your promotion. There’s also the question of your assignment.”

  Yes. Her path after graduation. The ultimate fate of war college graduates is decided not by the instructor superintendent but by the General Staff—that is, personnel decisions are made by a small, tight clique. Naturally, if you get on their bad side, you can expect to pay for it, but the reverse is also true.

  “We’ll take your wishes into consideration to the extent possible.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Kordel says they will consider her wishes, but the message is that they will pretend to listen to her. People from Personnel don’t usually give completely one-sided orders. Still, no matter how friendly they act, you can’t let down your guard. Tanya knows well that these people live in a world of kind artifices. Well, she will just have to respond superficially herself.

  “But I’m a soldier. Wherever I am ordered to go, I’ll humbly accept.”

  It’s a hollow remark. Saying she will humbly accept any posting is better than rocking the boat. Of course, she also has to take care not to draw the short straw.

  “That’s good to hear. Here are the papers that have come for you.”

  The colonel seems satisfied with her response. He carefully pulls out a sheaf of personnel request forms and hands them to her. They are all from frontline units, all desperately in need of both mages and officers, but she does see some units reorganizing in the rear among them. She seems to be very much in demand. Of course, she has no doubt that if she plays her hand wrong, all her choices will vanish, and she’ll be sent to the worst possible place.

  “Oh, and there’s one from the General Staff Office, too.”

  The final form he holds out to her simply says that General Staff asked for her to be posted there.

  “In light of your achievements, Personnel won’t force anything on you. Choose whichever you like.”

  “So I have my pick? It’s a tough decision.”

  Really, it only looks like I have a choice. The General Staff Office makes the personnel decisions. I guess it was nice of them to let me know how many offers I got.

  She isn’t stupid enough not to come when the General Staff calls. There’s no way to refuse.

  “I can imagine…”

  The colonel solemnly urges her to give it plenty of thought. It’s all a charade, but he looks every inch an experienced military man offering advice to an eager young person trying to decide the next step in her career. He’s a fine actor. Well, she already knew from the moment he started humoring her terrible performance that this was a third-rate script with an obvious outcome.

  “…However, there’s no such thing as an easy job, in any era.”

  “Sir.”

  She remains bolt upright as she replies. He is busy, too. Apparently he doesn’t have time to go along with this poorly written drama for too long.

  “I don’t know what the General Staff Office wants with you. I can only tell you I wish you the best of luck.”

  “I’m touched, Colonel.”

  The best of luck. A personal expression. The message contains his own goodwill toward her. Something makes him esteem her highly.

  In other words, it’s a lie that he doesn’t know what they want; she should assume he does. She wants to ask if he has any information, and before she knows it, she finds herself cocking her head like the child she is.

  In response, the colonel nods as if he understands, and gets to his feet. “Very sorry I can’t stay for dessert, but I must be on my way.”

  “Thank you for your time, Colonel von Kordel, I’ll see you later.”

  The colonel hurries out of the banquet as if the discussion is over. Following him with his eyes, Zettour calls over an adjutant he has kept waiting nearby. Taking the stack of papers he is handed, he comes to the most important matter he has called her here to discuss.

  “Let’s talk about you, Captain. And let’s be practical. You’re going to be assigned to the General Staff. I won’t be your direct superior, but I want you to basically consider yourself to be working for me.”

  “Yes, sir. Looking forward to it.”

  It’s a calm, matter-of-fact conversation. But even Zettour, who has served for much of his life, would never have dreamed he would see the day when a child of eleven became his subordinate.

  Even he had expected her to have a harder time fitting in at the war college. But she had the talent to be chosen as a knight, and given her combat experience, age became less of an issue.

  The head of this small captain contains notions that have taught them the foolishness of judging a situation on sight. Normally, that alone would be disturbing. It’s so unusual to see such outstanding ability from someone so young.

  He doesn’t know whether they should praise her original ideas or call her insane.

  But can they use her as a commissioned officer? That’s the only question in which Zettour and the General Staff are interested. If they can use her, there is nothing further to discuss.

  “Very good.”

  She doesn’t even seem hesitant about taking charge of a battalion even though she has never led a company. That suggests that she suspected this appointment was on its way.

  He’s heard from the war college l
ibrarians in the military history archive that she was researching battalion-scale maneuvers. She never would have thought to be so ready if she weren’t completely confident. In that sense, Captain von Degurechaff, sitting before him, had become a battalion commander even before the orders came down.

  “Captain, the General Staff intends to give you a battalion as soon as possible.”

  To be perfectly honest, it is understandable if she’s eager. A battalion of mages means a certain amount of authority and combat capability that’s still small enough to be fairly mobile. Many of the instructors said that she seemed to see herself as most suited for the front lines, and he can see now that they are right. They said that although she valued the lives of her troops, her combat style was bold and aggressive.

  So she is both an ambitious field officer and an excellent mage. Surely she’s willing to take some troops and do her thing on the forward-most line.

  “I’m honored, sir.”

  But Zettour hopes there will be a larger role to play for the handful of mage officers who graduated from the war college. In a sense, he even sees this as an excellent opportunity.

  “Good. However, the battalion you’ll be given will be a newly assembled unit of mages.”

  “Newly assembled, sir?”

  “It’s just the way the organization works. Get ready—it’s not going to be easy.”

  She will have to organize them, train them, and establish her authority over them. Without the assistance of some older hands, each of those tasks will be difficult. People create organizations, but organizations don’t create people.

  Thus, those who are capable of organizing things are considered pillars of the Imperial Army. That’s why they are making her take on a battalion now that they’ve succeeded in putting it together.

  “That being the case, tomorrow or the next day you’ll also receive orders as a formation officer.”

  They say you should set a thief to catch a thief, and he figures he will take advantage of every system he can. That’s understandable—it will take some doing to give a captain who has never led a company a battalion of mages.

  The “formation officer” position, for example, is a relic from the Middle Ages, when mercenaries were integrated into the regular army. All you had to do to merit the title was be an officer, no company-commander experience necessary. It’s a way of giving someone oversight of several mercenary units. It is also a system left over from three hundred years ago, but since it hasn’t been abolished, it’s still valid.