Devil's Due (Destroyermen #12)(170)
“Hear her,” Saan-Kakja stated flatly, her gold-and-black eyes flashing at Lassiter.
“I still maintain that had we . . .”
“Silence,” Rebecca McDonald said softly and sighed, her little-girl voice somewhat incongruous in a council of war, but her tone brooked no argument. “Perhaps some context is in order, to familiarize our friends with recent events?”
Shinya scowled. “Indeed,” he agreed, looking at the visitors. “I think we can confirm your intelligence that Don Hernan no longer commands the Army of God. One reason is the skill with which whoever does disengaged from your pursuit without even our native allies”—he nodded respectfully at Ixtli—“discovering it. Another is how he turned a beaten rabble back into an army and wasn’t content to merely escape. As you may have pieced together, he carefully planned his, ah, redeployment in such a way, and with sufficient time and preparation, to land a devastating—some might say humiliating—blow on a third of our army, strung out, in column, on the march.” He glanced at the lancer. “Our dragoons, in particular, were handled very roughly.”
“My God,” Sister Audry whispered. “We knew something was wrong, but not that bad.”
“No one knows, yet,” Rebecca said. “We didn’t know the full extent until we collected General Blair on our way here. Communications have been spotty, and couriers have apparently fallen prey to enemy raiding parties.”
“That third of the army, troops under my command, for the most part, were not annihilated,” General Blair said, but his tone wasn’t self-congratulatory. “They gave a good account of themselves, in point of fact, once the initial confusion was contained. But they were—I was—soundly beaten.” He nodded at the lancer. “Our dragoons, cut off from the start, very nearly were wiped out. Only timely air support prevented that.” He rubbed his chin, thoughtful. “This new commander does have talent, as your warning proposed, Major Blas. And even if your dispatches arrived more swiftly, I’m not sure we would’ve prepared appropriately, given our preconceptions.” He sighed.
“So you see,” Saan-Kakja said, “all of us were deceived, with dreadful consequences. Laying blame on anyone in particular is counterproductive and corrosive when the real blame lies with our collective conviction that, not only would Don Hernaan continue in command, but after its defeat at Fort De-fi-aance, his army itself could no longer fight. I now suspect, given a competent commaander, the Doms will prove a far more formid-aable foe.”
Blas glanced at Lassiter and saw, for the first time, how tired and sick at heart he seemed. “After what you endured, Col-nol Laass-iter, I understand your laashing out.” She looked at Sister Audry. “I’ve done it myself before.”
Lassiter waved a hand. “My apologies, Major Blas. High Chief Saan-Kakja is right. There’s sufficient blame for all. I should’ve been more careful.”
“Enough, both of you,” Rebecca said. “The question now is what do we do?”
“We must halt, reconsolidate . . .” Blair began thoughtfully.
“No!” Shinya snapped. “That will only complete their victory, and it’s exactly what they want.” He stood and strode to the painted map pinned to the canvas wall. “Our reconnaissance reports that the enemy is moving north, for the Pass of Fire instead of the Temple at New Granada, and probably means to reinforce the garrison there.” He glanced at Rebecca. “The Navy’s next objective.”
“What do you suggest?” Rebecca asked.
Shinya stabbed the Pass of Fire with his finger. “We follow him there and attack, in conjunction with an amphibious assault by sea. Admiral Jenks’s original plan, in fact. It will be costly,” he conceded. “The cities around El Paso del Fuego are loyal to the Dominion, by all accounts, and quite a few Grikbirds remain to counter our air power. They’ve had time to prepare for us, emplace shore batteries, and possibly armor their ships. With forty or more thousand troops added to the defense . . .”
“There’s no way to prevent them from reaching there?” Saan-Kakja asked.
Shinya moved his finger east. “We could march on the temple ourselves. We couldn’t possibly reach it without support—it’s too far—but the enemy might pursue us then, particularly with our supply lines at his mercy. That might prevent his reinforcing the pass, and it’s possible we could arrange a decisive meeting.” He shrugged. “Or we might all starve in the jungle.”
Rebecca frowned. “I doubt it would work, in any event. We must give the devil his due, my friends. Based on what we’ve seen, I doubt this Dom commander would cooperate.”
Shinya nodded agreement.
“So,” Rebecca mused, “there seems little choice, and I suppose it’s past time we combined all our leaders, all our forces, in this theater once more.” She sighed. “Sister Audry, Saan-Kakja, my sisters, please stay. We may want to consult High Admiral Jenks and Admiral Lelaa further, but for now, the sisters whose army this is must discuss this. The rest of you, please excuse us.”
All but the three females filed out of the tent. In the shade of the fly, Shinya stopped Blas. “You did very well, by the way. No one could’ve imagined . . .”
“I know,” Blas interrupted. “We did do well.” She shook her head. “Don’t put me in a spot like that again.”