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Jolla scrawled something on his order pad and signed it.
"Do you think it's wise to just let him wander around, under the circumstances?" Valentine asked.
"I wouldn't be wandering," Brother Mark said.
"You're right, Valentine, and you just named your own poison. Go with him. They tell me the Reaper hasn't been built that can sneak up on you."
"Yes, sir," Valentine said, fighting a battle with his face.
"Besides, someone in uniform should be representing Javelin. Tell them that I've informed Southern Command of the situation and I'm waiting for orders. Until then I'm free to act as I see fit."
That'll reassure a bunch of nervous Kentucky wormriders.
Valentine had heard rumors as a junior officer that the Kurians could befuddle key men through some sort of mental evil third eye, but had never attributed to mysticism what could be explained by stupidity. Jolla's sudden plunge into routine and procedure, when circumstances called for anything but, made him reconsider his old attitudes.
"You're a sharp instrument of good in His hands, my son," Brother Mark said. "Thank you for getting the noose off me. Those poor anxious men were rather letting their passions run wild on them."
Valentine decided he wanted the far blunter instrument of Bee along, just in case, so he delayed Brother Mark for five more minutes. He took Ediyak as well. Beauty sometimes calmed better than brawn. He grabbed some legworm jerkey and peanuts and took an extra canteen. If the real fireworks began, they might be forced to flee in the wrong direction.
As they set out, Brother Mark graced them with only a single aphorism: "Let's be about God's work this night of fear and doubt." Then he stalked off toward the legworm campsites, taking long, measured strides, for all the world like a hero in one of DeMille's old biblical videos they liked to show on washed-out old 1080 screens in church basements on community night.
Valentine almost liked him. He couldn't say whether the renegade churchman was crazy, a true believer, or simply the kind of man who always stepped forward when necessity called.
He took care moving-God knows what might be prowling in the dark-with first Bee scouting while he made sure nothing was following him, and then swapping with the Grog.
The legworm clans didn't even have anything that could be called a camp. They'd gathered their legworms together into five big clumps, feeding them branches cut and dragged from the woods, with a few more grazing at the borders of their camps. Their sentries and picket positions were two-man pairs who lay behind clumps and lines of leg-worm droppings, the fresh deposits notched with little sandbags the size of small pistols supporting deer rifles.
Behind the spotter/sniper positions more men stood ready to mount their legworms.
Valentine had seen the mobile breastworks that legworms provided in action before. The riders planted hooks and straps in the fleshy, nerveless sides of their mounts and hung off the living walls, employing their guns against an opponent, using tactics that com-bined First World War trench warfare with wooden ship actions from Nelson's day.
The legworm clans were quick to blame Southern Command for not properly securing the town. Valentine conceded the point. The Wolves had checked it out, and then the Guards conducted a more thorough search, but whatever soldiers had been posted at key buildings and crossroads were missing along with the rest of the celebrants.
"I told Spex Karas this whole affair would go wrong," the dispatcher of the Coonskins said.
He glared at Valentine through his one good eye. The other was a milky wreck. "The Free Territories egg us into fighting with the Kurians. We're for it now. For it deep."
"It's not this young man's fault," Brother Mark said.
Valentine thought of correcting him. He'd urged Southern Command to explore an alliance with some of the legworm clans and support the guerrillas in the Alleghenies.
"Careful, Coonskin," a low female voice said. "He's Bulletproof. Might just challenge you to a duel."
Tikka forced her way to the front of the throng. "Welcome back, Reiner. My life gets interesting whenever you show up."
"Hello, Tikka. Where's Zak?"
Valentine heard startled breaths. She replied in a monotone, "He was at the party."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Valentine said.
She thanked him quietly, looked around at the assembly. "I'm able to speak in my brother's place, with my dispatcher's authority. The Bulletproof won't quit. Won't throw down their guns. Won't run."
"I stand for the Alliance too," another called. Cheers broke out.
But they sounded half-hearted.
By the pinkening dawn, they were at the camp of the Green Mountain Boys and Valentine was growing tired. The New England troops took the precaution of blindfolding the party before letting them into camp. Bee didn't appreciate being blindfolded, so Ediyak offered to wait with her outside the lines.
