Hot pursuit.

The steady pursuit of the enemy required the flotilla to drop downriver some ten miles to a position paralleling the current location of the army. Here a dilapidated landing stage for a cattle ferry offered the means to bring the troops aboard. The two companies of Regiment Brabenachel were paraded along the bank as the flotilla drew close. Young Colonel Brabenachel himself was sitting on a bollard, idly throwing stones into the river. He stood up and brushed the seat of his britches as the gunboats drew in their oars and coasted up to the stage.

“What ho the navy!” he cried, saluting Captain Creighton with a beaming smile. “All ready to bring my fellows aboard, sir?”

“Ready, aye, ready Colonel,” Creighton growled, eyeing the foppish fellow with a tolerant eye. “We’ll push out the brows and you can bring your lads aboard when you please. Each boat can take eighty men, Colonel, no more.”

The crews of the three gunboats bent to their tasks as Colonel Brabenachel turned to shout orders to the waiting officers. Trumpets sounded a brief flourish and the first platoons began to file down in an irregular mass, chivvied by their NCO’s. Cries of baaaa! and moooo! filled the air.

“What on earth?” Horatio exclaimed, grinning in surprise.

“Oh, don’t mind them,” Brabenachel called, swishing his marching stick insouciantly. “It’s just high spirits.”

“What a band of jokers!” Creighton sighed as outraged NCO’s pushed and shoved the men in an attempt to restore discipline. Their efforts were not helped by the fact they were failing to conceal their own grins. “I’d heard Brabenachel was sucking hind tit when it came to recruitment. I can see where the rumors began, now.”

“I dare say they’ll fight hard enough when called on to do so, sir,” Horatio said, smiling. “They did very well at Viehdorf.”

“Indeed.” As the first soldiers clumped aboard Acheron Captain Creighton doffed his hat to them. “Welcome aboard, the Jokers!”

* * *

Mary Amadeus sat on the gun carriage of one of the captured artillery pieces, eating a ham roll and speculating on the virtues of a russet color scheme for the ordinance. The guns were due to be taken to Kimmelsbrücke, there to be paraded through the town as a sign of the recent victory. After that, a new lick of paint will do very well. Then it’ll be on to Randstadt!

“My dear! How are you?”

Mary looked up to see Graf Philip approaching. He wore a broad smile and a fine crimson uniform, and two of his aides stood in the background, watching tolerantly. She knew Philip well enough now to detect an air of suppressed glee about him, which made her mildly suspicious. “I’m well, Philip, dear,” she said, getting up and shyly exchanging kisses on the cheek. “I’ve not seen you for a while. What have you been doing?”

“Oh, I’ve been busy with correspondence. One letter in particular got the most delightful response.”

“Which was?” she asked, wondering.

For answer he turned and made a beckoning gesture. An aide in turn gestured to someone who was standing the other side of a caisson, and that person shambled forward into view.

“Father!” Mary exclaimed. She stared for all of a second before rushing into his arms.

“Oh, my dear Mary!” Irwin Amadeus blinked and snuffled, his little round glasses knocked askew by the impact. “It’s so good to see you, child!”

Mary hugged him then turned to Philip. “You tease! You didn’t tell me you had sent for my father!”

Philip shrugged and smiled. “I wanted it to be a surprise. You were pining for a visit home, which isn’t possible under the circumstances; but there was nothing to stop your father coming here. It’s only a hop, skip and jump from Wohl, after all.”

Irwin Amadeus was blinking from his daughter to the fine young nobleman. “Am I to collect, sir, that you and my daughter are, um, close?” he asked diffidently.

“Your daughter is a fine woman and a first-class expert in explosives, sir,” Philip replied, smiling at Mary. “It’s a pleasure to be acquainted with her.”

“She was an apt pupil,” Irwin said, gazing fondly at Mary’s shining visage even as he missed the emphasis in Philip’s voice.

“And you must have been a most diligent tutor, sir. I look forward to hearing more about her from you over dinner.” He took Mary’s hand. “Your father has agreed to accompany us to Kimmelsbrücke for the parade. We shall have the pleasure of his company for three days, at least.”

“Philip, thank you!” She beamed up at him. “Your kindness is wonderful!”

“You deserve it, my dear. I confess I have another motive also for asking your father to come here.” When she made to speak he placed a fingertip on her lips. “Hush now! I shall tell all later.”

* * *

Acheron, Cocytus and Phlegethon headed downriver. The steady southerly wind of the last few days had changed to a fitful, gusty westerly breeze that required close attention to the big lateen sails. Packed as they were with soldiery the vessels’ crews were pushed to work as efficiently as they would normally. There was many a cry of ‘by your leave, mate,’ as they pushed some hapless soldier out of the way of sheet and halyard.

“Your fellows don’t seem to mind a river trip, sir,” Horatio said to Colonel Brabenachel.

“It’s a first for most of them. They’re nearly all recruited from the towns.” He smiled fondly. “The only contact most of them had with water was splashing through a puddle. Dear Lord, the lengths we had to go through to ensure they followed some basic hygiene!”

“Enemy army in sight!” The cry came from the mast-head. Horatio looked up to see the lookout pointing to the west. Here the river entered the great curve that took it close to the hills, and the two-mile wide gap between river and the first rising slopes was busy with the black coats of the Margraf’s army. The gusty breeze brought with it the occasional popping of musketry, sounding like firecrackers in some distant celebration. But men are fighting and dying over there.

“Commander, I think we shall draw closer to the bank and see what we can do with our guns,” Captain Creighton said. “The land is level for the most part here.”

“Your guns can reach, sir?” Colonel Brabenachel inquired.

“Most easily, sir.” Creighton smiled. “Our twenty-four pounders can send a shot clear across to those hills. A few rounds from them will serve to dissuade the Gravies from making a stand in this narrow gap.”

Horatio barked orders, thankful that the big mortar had been struck down into the hold to allow more space for the soldiers. Had it remained in place it would’ve been nearly impossible to work the main gun.

With shouted orders and signals the three gunboats swept into line abreast, their bows pointing at the distant enemy. Horatio studied them through his spyglass. “It seems we’re attracting some attention, sir.”

“They have no artillery to bother us, Commander.” Creighton grinned. “Your young female friend saw to that.” He glanced through his telescope and pointed. “Our target is that regiment of red-coated infantry.”

Horatio followed his line of sight and saw the mercenary regiment of Babbington’s Legion drawn up at the edge of a field some nine hundred yards away. They appeared to be ready to contest passage of a narrow country lane that led to the main highway a half mile distant. Some distance away from the mercenaries he could also see the colors of Infantry Regiment Sleibnitz waving above a hedgerow as they approached the position.

“Clear to fire, sir!” Midshipman Steiner called from his place by the gun. Creighton glanced up and down the short line of his command and saw the pennants rising to indicate the other boats were ready. “Oars up! Fire!”

The great guns belched flame. All the assembled soldiers swayed and laughed as the deck recoiled under their feet. A great gust of dun-colored smoke filled the air, temporarily forming a dense obscuring cloud before being blown back over the deck by the breeze. Horatio coughed and brought his spyglass up to his eye. He was in time to see great gouts of earth spring up around and in front of the redcoats, to no visible effect.

Steiner saw to the gun. Out of habit Horatio drew his fob watch and timed the exercise, nodding when Steiner raised his hand to indicate readiness to fire. “Another salvo, I think,” Creighton said. “It’ll be a more concentrated shock that way.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Fire!”

The guns belched again, and Horatio saw a fleeting glimpse of a black streak leaving the barrel before the smoke rolled over the deck. When he raised his glass this time he saw the effect the mass of metal had on the target. Bodies – and bits of body -- hurled into the air, once, twice, thrice as a great ball bounded through the closed ranks of the mercenaries. The regiment shuddered. “Hit ‘em again and they’ll break,” Creighton growled.

“I think so too, sir,” Horatio replied, feeling sickened.

But Babbington’s Legion was made up of old soldiers with experienced commanders. They began to withdraw before the great guns were ready to inflict their murderous fire upon them again. “Fire!” Creighton shouted. The guns roared and a few seconds later the earth flew again, but the enemy had withdrawn into the cover of a sunken lane and the execution was minimal.

“Oh well, there goes that fatuous ass Sleibnitz,” Creighton said, examining the scene. “He's moving to take that ground. I fancy we saved him a peck of casualties this day.”

“It appears the Gravies are in no mood to make a stand, sir.” Horatio pointed. “I had hoped to turn our attentions upon that other regiment alongside the road, but that too is withdrawing.”

“I think we’ve done enough for now. They know if they stand we’ll destroy them.” Creighton looked up and around. “There’s a squall coming down from the hills. I think we’ll make our way down to Wentwitz when it hits. The rain should obscure our movements.”

Acheron, Cocytus and Phlegethon swung their bows to point downriver and got under way as the first drops of rain fell. Soon it sheeted down, hiding all movement beyond a hundred yards. Horatio pulled the collar of his boat cloak up around his neck and glanced around. Another few days and our operation will be finished. Then it’s me for the heady delights of Kimmelsbrücke and marriage to Ursula! He rested his hands upon the rail and looked back upriver, thinking of the night he’d spent in her arms. How did I get to be so lucky?

Promotions and promises.

“For Heaven’s sake, Ursula, you can’t get married in those clothes!” Mary said. “Shirt and britches are all very well for an adventure but hardly good enough for a bride to wear. Didn’t you bring a dress of any kind with you?”

“I didn’t exactly have time to pack, Mary A,” Ursula replied, flopping into a chair and looking down at her attire. “I had to do a moonlight flit.”

“Not for the first time. Perhaps there’s a dress to be had in the village.”

Ursula sighed. “Viehdorf isn’t exactly heaving with high couture, Mary A.”

Her friend smiled patiently. “No, but most country folk make their clothes. Perhaps we should ask around.” She glanced out the window. “Oh, Horatio’s coming down the road with Captain Creighton.”

Ursula leapt to her feet and rushed outside. Her father was conversing with the captain of his escort but his head turned to regard the two naval officers as they approached. They drew up short when they saw the prelate standing outside the humble cottage and affected their bows.

“Good morning, gentlemen,” the Archbishop responded. “I’m glad to see you.” He turned his attention to Horatio and Ursula saw her intended’s face turn pink with embarrassment. But he drew himself up and looked the Archbishop in the eye. Good for you! She thought.

“I have some business to conduct with you, young man,” her father said in a severe tone. “Certain things were not done properly.”

“I will not ask your forgiveness in spiriting Ursula away from the palace, Your Grace,” Horatio replied evenly. “We love each other. It was necessary.”

“So it seems.” Her father glanced at her. “However, I have been persuaded to overlook your elopement. If you intend to marry my daughter I will not stand in your way, Commander.”

Horatio frowned, opened and shut his mouth, thought for a moment then gave the Archbishop a quizzical look. “I collect Your Grace is fully aware of my rank?”

“Your former rank, yes.” He smiled. “I cannot have my daughter marrying a mere lieutenant, however valorous. No, as from this moment you now have a commission as Master and Commander in the Riverine Navy.”

Horatio’s eyes widened but the Archbishop was not finished. He drew a flat black velvet-covered box from his coat pocket and opened it. An ornate silver star with a fine purple enamel center twinkled in the light. “This is the Order of the Goblet, awarded to you by the Reich Duke of Beerstein in recognition of your recent heroic actions. I prevailed upon the Beerstein ambassador to allow me to present it to you. When he learned there was a romance attached to your name he was perfectly agreeable. He extends his compliments and regrets his duties with the Grand Duke prevent him from meeting you at present.”

The Archbishop draped the ribbon of the Order around Horatio’s neck, and Ursula grinned at the stunned expression upon he beloved’s face. Captain Creighton applauded then shook Horatio’s hand. “Promotion is well overdue in your case, young fellow!” he said in his execrable German. “And the rank of Master and Commander will lead to automatic promotion to Captain within three years – if you behave yourself!”

“Thank you sir!” Horatio replied, still reeling.

Ursula rushed into his arms and hugged him. “Promotion to Commander, a prestigious award, and above all, you get to marry me! It’s a hard life you lead, Horatio Horngebläse!”

Captain Creighton coughed. “I’m afraid your ceremony will have to wait for a few days, Your Excellency.” He turned to the Archbishop. “Your Grace, we are under orders to take a number of soldiers aboard and sail for Wentwitz within the hour. The enemy must be prevented from crossing the river there.”

The Archbishop nodded. “I understand. When you return from your mission I request that you release Commander Horngebläse for marriage duties for as long as he may be spared.”

“I shall do so with pleasure, Your Grace. Now, if you’ll excuse us, we must be away to our commands.”

Ursula kissed Horatio soundly then watched with a glow in her heart as we walked away. “There goes a fine young man,” her father said by her side.

“I’m glad you agree, father.”

He rested his hand upon her shoulder. “We shall return to Kimmelsbrücke. You’ll have a wider scope to make preparations for your coming nuptials there.”

Ursula frowned. “I don’t want those wretched women fussing around me, father!”

His lips twitched. “I suppose they can be kept on the leash. Two of them in particular will be bound for foreign shores. But as it happens your uncle also wishes to see you. Apparently you’re still an accredited agent of the Intelligence Service. With poor Herr Beckenbaur recovering from his wounds, you’re the only agent we posses with a detailed knowledge of the Randstadt defenses.” He turned to Mary Amadeus. “And you, er, lieutenant, also have knowledge of value to your country, both regarding Randstadt and your prowess with explosives.”

Mary came to attention and saluted. “I shall be happy to serve in whatever capacity I may, Your Grace!”

The Archbishop blinked and Ursula grinned. “Then you can start by reporting for duty as my chief – and only! – bridesmaid!”

Karl disposes, Wolfram proposes.

Another matter drew Grand Duke Karl’s attention as the soldiery began to march through the streets of Kimmelsbrücke. He gave orders and waited with Count Ostenberg in the garden of a townhouse loaned for an hour by its patriotic owner. Soon a rattle of carriage wheels sounded on the sweep of the drive. Karl was studying the beautiful pink blossom on an ornamental cherry tree and commenting on its scent when a party of his guardsmen appeared, escorting Barons Zögernsie and Bummeln-Störrisch.

“Neither man looks especially happy to be here,” Ostenberg commented quietly.

“With good cause!” Karl sneered as they waited for the men to approach.

“Your Grace,” they murmured, making their bows. He responded with a cool nod. Bummeln-Störrisch in particular seemed to have a sheen of perspiration on his glabrous face in spite of the cool breeze that stirred.

“Gentlemen. I’m glad to see you.” He consulted his fob watch and snapped the cover closed. The Barons followed his movements with watchful eyes, knowing they were in disgrace and wondering when the axe would fall – perhaps literally. “The hour presses and I have an invasion to supervise.” He smiled and they seemed to relax slightly. I’ll allow them a brief moment. Now…

He glared at them. “You are guilty of treasonous correspondence with the enemy, namely the Margraf and Dowager Margrafin of Dunkeldorf-Pfuhl.” When they made to protest he held up his hand. “Be silent! I think you were of the opinion that you were serving our country best by doing so, perhaps out of a sense of misguided patriotism.”

“We exist only to serve, Your Grace!” Bummeln-Störrisch expostulated. His sweating was growing worse.

“Good. That’s very good.” Karl paced slowly up and down before them, his head bowed, hands behind his back. Count Ostenberg stood quietly, watching. It’s all theatrics, Karl thought. He’d made up his mind what to do the day before.

“It occurs to me that Hetzenberg has failed to stretch your activities and talents to their full capacities. You felt bored, and inclined to make mischief.”

“Your Grace -!”

Karl held up his hand. “Quiet! Idle hands make the Devil’s work, so they say. I shall ensure you are both kept very busy serving our nation in a useful capacity.”

“We exist only to serve, Your Grace!” Zögernsie cried, echoing his companion. Karl knew in the close questioning that had followed their arrest Zögernsie had proved the weaker of the two conspirators. Ostenberg hadn’t needed to apply much pressure there.

Karl gestured and his aide brought forward a Bible. “Barons Zögernsie and Bummeln-Störrisch,” Karl intoned, “you will lay your hand upon the Bible in turn and swear fealty to myself, my family and Hetzenberg, for as long as you do live. If either of you refuse or recant you can expect no clemency, I do assure you.”

Gray-faced and sweating, Bummeln-Störrisch laid his hand upon the Book and swore his oath. Baron Zögernsie followed suit with pathetic eagerness. The aide bowed to Karl and withdrew. “Good. Now that has been settled it remains for me to assign you duties suitable to your rank. Of course, sadly, your positions in my Grand Council are now forfeit; but I have something in mind which will be commensurate with those.”

Ostenberg stepped forward, bearing two rolls of vellum. Karl took them and studied the attached wafers and handed one roll to each man. “These are your Ambassadorial credentials.

They gaped. Karl hid a smile. “Baron Bummeln-Störrisch, I wish you to take up the position of Ambassador to the Principality of Morea so recently and tragically vacated by the late Baron Tapfer.”

Bummeln-Störrisch turned a distinct shade of green. “Cheer up!” Karl said, clapping him on the shoulder. “It’s a fine, civilized country. Of course, there has been a great deal of troublesome, indeed murderous banditry in the region, not to mention piracy on the high seas. I’m sure you’ll make a full and close investigation and report accordingly.”

“Your Grace is too kind!” Bummeln-Störrisch muttered.

“Baron Zögernsie, a nice position in the Holy Mormoan Kingdom of New South Wales awaits you. It’s true the country can only be reached by a long and arduous sea journey, but again, they are a fine, civilized nation.

“Both of you will serve your country well, and in five years perhaps, we shall see about reinstating you here at home.” Both men looked dumbstruck but Karl ignored their expressions and continued. “You will of course bear the awards and honors which I have bestowed upon my fellow sovereigns and behave yourselves as befits the representatives of our realm. You will be granted twenty-four hours in which to set your affairs in order and then you will leave. That is all. Good day to you, gentlemen.”

They bowed and departed, again under guard. “Was I too kind to them, do you think?” Karl murmured.

Ostenberg rubbed his jaw. “I think not, Your Grace. For all the reputed charms of its sovereign, Morea is no sinecure, and New South Wales is very far away. A good distance between those two fellows and our realm can only be to our advantage too.”

“I’m glad you agree. You’ll have someone within their staffs keeping an eye on their activities?”

“Of course.” Ostenberg’s smile would not have looked out of place on a shark’s face.

Karl rubbed his hands. “Then I shall take horse and lead my army on to more pleasurable activities.” As they walked out of the garden Karl looked up at the clearing skies. “I wonder how my brother is faring?”

* * *

Ursula bowed as her father rode up. “Father.”

“Daughter.” He reined in and sat on his horse for a moment, looking down at her. He’s always been fit for his age. No carriage for him if he can avoid it. She eyed him carefully, trying to gauge just how much trouble she was in.

The Archbishop dismounted and one of his troopers took the reins. “Is this where you’re staying?” he asked, looking at the cottage.

“I share it with Mary Amadeus, father.”

“Then we shall go inside.”

*

Mary was sitting at a desk, sucking the end of her quill and studying a sheet of paper. “…and three gallons of prussic acid, to be conveyed in one gallon carboys.” She looked up and sprang to her feet as the Archbishop followed Ursula into the room. “Oh!”

He held up a hand. “Pray do not get up, Sis – er…” He frowned at her appearance. “Lieutenant. As Ursula’s friend what I have to say to her will be of interest to you.”

“Your Grace,” Mary A muttered, looking sidelong at Ursula.

He shed his riding cloak and stood before the hearth, looking at them from beneath lowering brows. “You decided to vote with your feet and elope, child. Is that not so?”

“I did, father,” Ursula replied, her chin coming up in what Mary recognized as her fighting mode.

“Is your intended nearby?”

“He went to attend upon his captain. Father -”

“You wish to marry this Lieutenant?”

“I do!” Her cheeks colored. “We were thinking of asking Captain Creighton to perform a ceremony aboard the Acheron. As captain of a vessel he has that right.”

Her father stared at her for a long moment then rubbed his nose. “Actually, he doesn’t. The traditional right of captains to perform marriages extends only to ocean-going vessels.”

Ursula looked crestfallen but still defiant. “I won’t marry anyone else!” she said fiercely.

Suddenly the Archbishop smiled. “I wouldn’t ask it of you, child.”

Ursula blinked. “What?”

He shook his head in wonder. “Since you came of age your exploits have never ceased to amaze me. If I tried to tie you to some foreign prince you’d set the whole of Urope ablaze in an effort to have your own way. No, if you choose to marry Lieutenant Horngebläse I’ll not stand in your way. In fact, although the captain cannot marry the pair of you, I can – and, with your consent, shall.”

Between tides.

*

The headquarters party was gathered beneath the spreading limbs of a fine old oak tree, sheltering from a fine drizzle that drifted on the cool morning breeze. The boughs above their heads stirred and dripped, droplets depending from the fresh green buds to fall on the maps spread on a folding table below. An aide was kept employed sponging the water away before the paper got too wet. Not far away the occasional pop and crack of a musket told them they were still at war and in pursuit of the retreating army of the Margraf.

Captain Creighton heard General Rauppen-Schlepper’s proposal with polite interest, but when the General had outlined his plan Creighton shook his head. “I’m afraid it won’t be possible for my flotilla to convey many troops, General. We can take perhaps two companies, distributed among our three boats. They would serve very well in a Marine capacity, but more than that and it would interfere with the operation of the vessels.”

“So small a number?” General Rauppen-Schlepper was disappointed.

“I’m afraid so. Had we more civilian barges to commandeer it would not be difficult to conduct an operation such as you propose, but otherwise,” Creighton shook his head again, “It will not answer.”

“Hmm.” Rauppen-Schlepper studied the map again, and traced the course of the river with his fingertip. It came to rest on the small town of Wentwitz. “Perhaps two companies would serve to secure the bridge at Wentwitz before the Gravies arrive. Backed by the guns of your flotilla our fellows will be a tough proposition for the enemy to tackle. That would force the Gravies to either attempt to seize the bridge by coup de main and risk heavy casualties, or perforce head for the next crossing, the ferry at Dizzendorf.”

“We can certainly give them a pounding if they approach within range of the river,” Creighton said with enthusiasm. “And we can secure the ferry long before they arrive if they move further downriver.”

Rauppen-Schlepper pursed his lips. “No,” he said softly. “If they move there, I would prefer them to leave our soil unmolested. It never serves to give an enemy absolutely no escape. It breeds desperation, and I would rather not have a desperate and well-armed enemy loose in Hetzenberg.” He bent over the map again. “His Grace will be marching into the Margravate at the head of his army within a day or so, bound for Randstadt. My aim is to delay the Margraf’s army here by at least another two days. That will prevent them from crossing the river and coming onto His Grace’s left flank before it can be secured.”

“Orders, sir?” Captain Scharfe asked quietly.

Rauppen-Schlepper nodded. “Orders to Colonel Brabenachel. I require you to detach the two most intact companies of your command under a capable officer, they to report aboard the Riverine Flotilla for temporary marine duties. Their mission is to secure and hold the bridge at Wentwitz against the Margraf’s army, such defense to be supported by the flotilla. They are to hold the position for as long as possible but not to the point of destruction. Fieldworks may be constructed if time permits.”

Scharfe wrote the last words and gestured to a galloper. As the man sped away Captain Creighton saluted Rauppen-Schlepper. “With your permission, General, I shall see to the preparations aboard my command. I shall await the infantry at a point on the shore adjacent to the army. That way it’ll speed the process of boarding.”

“Thank you, Captain. I do appreciate your co-operation.”

“A pleasure, sir, I do assure you.”

Creighton walked away, rubbing his hands with the eager anticipation of placing his command in the path of danger once more. Behind him another crackle of musketry sounded, and the army moved forward a little more.

*

Horatio met the Captain halfway along the road to the headquarters party. Creighton seemed in a good mood and clapped him on the shoulder. “We have good work ahead of us, my boy!” he grinned.

“I’m glad to hear it, sir!” Horatio grinned back, relieved that Creighton was not going to raise awkward questions about his tardiness. “Where, and when?”

Creigthon wrinkled his nose as Horatio fell into step alongside him on the road back to Viehdorf. They had to travel to one side to allow passage for the many troops and supply wagons that passed on their way to the front. “Wentwitz. We shall be taking a brace of companies aboard from Brabenachel’s Regiment in order to secure the bridge. The General wants us to prevent the Gravies from crossing there. If they attack, we shall serve ‘em out like we did last week. If they move on to the ferry at Dizzendorf, well, we’re not to interfere.”

“That would give his Grace time to march on Randstadt and secure his lines of communication, sir.”

“Just so. Once we reach the flotilla we shall get to work.” He cocked an eye at Horatio. “I’m afraid we will be rather pressed for space, so Her Excellency will have to remain behind for this trip.”

Horatio felt his face grow warm with embarrassment. Creighton’s eyes twinkled but he said no more.

*

To Mary Amadeus, Ursula’s breezy confession to a liaison with Horatio was not unexpected but it was also rather disturbing. It raised questions about her own relationship with Graf Philip. She sat in a commandeered cottage and worked steadily at the paperwork the new battery would require, but her mind strayed ever and anon to her situation. Not that Philip would advocate anything so… intimate as Ursula and Horatio’s relationship. And I’m not sure how I’d react if he did! Would he be permitted anything more than a warm friendship with me, anyway? I know the Kings of Gallia have their Official Mistresses, but I’m sure I wouldn’t want such a tawdry arrangement with Philip.

Happy little thoughts of marriage to Philip had tried to dance a quadrille in her mind for days, only to be tripped up and squashed by sudden moments of doubt. She sighed and bent to her work.

*

Ursula kept herself gainfully employed in helping the wounded to board the barges. The skills picked up in the Order’s infirmary in Randstadt and her recent ministrations of Konrad Beckenbaur made her more qualified than most to tend to their needs. It was with a sense of real accomplishment that she stood upon the levee and waved as the last of the barges slipped its moorings and headed out into the flow, bound for Kimmelsbrücke. The river was rising high with meltwater coming off the mountains of the south, and the waters were lapping close to the foot of the pilings that protected the houses from severe floods. Ursula walked along the riverside and wondered how Konrad was doing, hoping he too would make the river journey to the spa at Bolschen soon. If any man had suffered in his country’s service, it was he.

Her stomach rumbled and she rubbed it. I’d better go find Mary A and some lunch; it’s been hours since I last ate.

She turned and walked up the main street of the village, thinking of food, Horatio, Mary A, Horatio, marriage, Horatio…

A party of the Bishop’s Horse appeared on the road leading up to the village just as she neared the cottage where Mary A was working. She shaded her eyes, noting in an instant that these troopers looked fresher than the weary fellows who had filled the makeshift infirmaries so recently. And in their midst rode her father. His eyes were fixed upon her and his expression was thunderous. He’d obviously penetrated her guise in spite of the mannish clothes she still wore. “Ah, crap..!” she sighed, and braced herself.

*

“What is the situation to the east of town?” Grand Duke Karl inquired. “Have the enemy made any attempts upon the defenses?”

“None, beyond a few feints and skirmishes, Your Grace,” Colonel Kranke replied. “All of which were repulsed easily.”

They stood upon the hill before the great palace, looking out over the river and the valley. Kranke pointed to a distant huddle of buildings that marked the nearest village in Margravate territory. “That is the hamlet of Kuntsheim. It was cleared of civilian inhabitants soon after the Gravies arrived.”

“The Gravies..?”

Kranke coughed. “A colloquialism coined by our troops for the Margravate army, Your Grace.”

Karl smiled. “Ah, I see. Thank you. Pray do continue, Colonel.”

“The enemy threw up an outwork to provide protection to a battery of light guns before Kuntsheim, Your Grace. They were careful to locate it out of range of our own guns in the battery built by Colonel Schmutzgraber. They patrol regularly every day, mostly infantry but we have seen their gendarmerie on occasion.” He sniffed. “From reports given by refugees that have crossed here, those fellows are only good for browbeating the peasantry.”

Karl frowned. “It’s a brutish regime that requires such treatment to cow its own people. We shall rectify that, at least, once we have secured the valley for Hetzenberg.”

“God send that day will come soon, Your Grace.”

Karl clapped him on the shoulder. “It will come, Colonel. We shall march at dawn, take that village and permit its denizens to return to their homes within the week.” His handsome visage took on a ferocious mien. “Then we shall see about Randstadt!”

Another hoop...

I'm back, and thanks for the kind wishes. Yes, there's one more hoop to jump through. The visa interview process is well organized and painless. I wish I could say the same for the Embassy website, as it's full of contradictions and some requirements aren't raised or are buried in a wealth of BS. It turns out my fiancée has to mail me yet one more form, which I have to send to the US Embassy before they issue the visa. Oh well, these things are sent to try us...

I hope to write the next chapter of the Chronicles this weekend. The Gravies have yet to be escorted off the premises and there's the upcoming siege of Randstadt to cover.

In the meantime I have a batch of late 80's vintage wargames magazines up on eBay for those who may be interested, including issues of Practical Wargamer and one Battle for Wargamers Manual. Jeff has just pointed out that the link isn't quite right. I've modified it so now they can be found here. I'll give a discount on postage to any of my readers who wish to bid.

Wish me luck...

Everything Hetzenberg-related is on hold for a while now. Sorry guys, I have just too much on my plate at the moment. I'm off to London today for an overnight stay, as I have my visa interview tomorrow at the US Embassy. I will hear sometime next week whether my application has been successful.

The Hetzenberg Chronicles Overview

Thanks for your kind comments gentlemen! I think it only fair to my regular readers if I give some indication as to where events will lead next.

The first volume of the Chronicle story rightly concluded when Ursula and Mary Amadeus reached Kimmelsbrucke. This second volume will cover the war between Hetzenberg and Dunkeldorf-Pfuhl, including the Battle of Viehdorf and the upcoming siege of Randstadt (in which our heroines will play their due part). I intend to use the rules in the Emperor's Press Warfare in the Age of Reason 2nd edition to run a paper game of this. Everything falls within an overall story arc concluding in the third volume. I do have plots and plans in mind but, as always when writing fiction the characters will often do things that take even me by surprise. And yes, Mary A - I am talking about you!

My beloved fiancée is working on copyediting the first volume as and when her schedule permits. I am adding new material to firm-up the begining, throwing some light on the days of Mary Amadeus and Ursula in the convent before life came calling with a vengeance, and fleshing-out other scenes and events during the course of the storyline. It's our intention to publish the whole in paperback and .pdf format at a later date - emigration matters permitting!

For now, I will be busy over the next couple of days, but I'll try and write the next chapter this afternoon. =)

A J