Terrible Swift Sword
Page 40
Andrew wanted to say more, yet the words would not come. How could he also say that he had deliberately set out to kill someone? War had always been impersonal, killing in the heat of battle, that is how it had always been. But this was different.
Since the moment he had first met Yuri the plan had started to form, coming into clear light the morning he had heard of Hans's death. Even as the evacuation plan, which had always lingered in the back of his mind, had formed into reality, he knew there would not be enough time. It had always been time, ever since the day they had first decided to stand against the Tugars. There was never enough time for all that needed to be done.
He had worked all of it out in such detail, sitting with Yuri and learning how they thought, planning the murder out in every detail.
And it had worked.
Andrew looked down at the letter from Yuri.
I know I have been used by all sides, especially by you to save my own people who would kill me. In doing this, I guarantee the death of the only two I still love within this heart of stone. I know I am used by Tamuka as well, for in either course I suspect I am merely his tool.
Yet I forgive you, Andrew Lawrence Keane.
Andrew crumpled the letter up and put it back into his pocket.
He had committed a cold, calculated killing of his rival. It mattered not that Jubadi had planned the same for him. Yuri had never confessed to that but Andrew knew, having realized it in the story about a pet who had killed a Qarth to save his family.
There should be no remorse, no tinge of guilt now. It was a war of survival for both races. If he had not done this, if Yuri had not sacrificed himself for a people who despised him, in ten days the Merki would have been through the White Hills, slaughtering the refugees by the hundreds of thousands.
Yuri had saved the Rus, all the people, by this one assassination.
But Andrew did not have to like it. The train lurched beneath him, and he grabbed hold of the railing. Last train out of Rus.
Behind him the land was empty, a ghostly vista, an entire people gone into exile.
Will we ever come back, he wondered, or is this the beginning of an exodus that will take us around the entire world? It was hard to imagine that they could ever fight their way back.
Damn it, they had to come back. This was their land, their dream, their homes. Suzdal was theirs. If it took an entire generation, they would be back. He might die, they all might die in the months to come, but somehow some of them would survive and return until they had finally won.
The train started to pick up speed as it crested over the low hill. The tiny station was behind them now, the building and a pile of hay alongside of it burning brightly to match the colors of the evening sky. As the car reached the crest, Andrew had a brief, final view: the low hills lining the Neiper standing out on the distant horizon, the lush fertile fields silent, the villages silent, the church bells, which had for so long toiled the ending of the day, silent.
"Somehow, we'll come back."
He looked over at Kathleen as she came out the door and leaned against the railing, Maddie resting against her shoulder fast asleep. Together, they watched their land as it seemed to drift away.
"You did what you had to do." Her free hand slipped around his waist.
"It doesn't mean I have to like it."
"I wouldn't love you if you did."
He looked down at her, and for the first time since he had lost Hans, a smile lit his face.
The engineer played out a sad, melodious song on the whistle, as if calling a final farewell, and the last train out of Rus continued down the slope, racing eastward into the gathering night.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
William Forstchen, born in 1950, was raised in New Jersey but has spent most of his life in Maine. Having worked for more than a decade as a history teacher, an education consultant on creative writing, and a Living History reenactor of the Civil War period, Bill is now a graduate student in military history at Purdue University in Indiana. Rally Cry the first volume in The Lost Regiment series, was published by ROC Books in 1990.
When not writing or studying, Bill devotes his time to the promotion of the peaceful exploration of space or to one of his numerous hobbies, which include iceboating (a challenge in Indiana), scuba diving (an even greater challenge in Indiana), and pinball machines.