Böcler frowned. “For the horse who bit me? And the one who kicked me? Of course not. They’re simply brutes, Ms. Weaver. I’d have to ask my father—he’s a parson—but I believe seeking to wreak vengeance on dumb animals would be frowned upon by the Lord. Viewed severely, in fact.”
He sounded for all the world like a man discussing the temperament of his department boss instead of the Almighty.
So. Steady, solid, seemingly unflappable. Add severely practical to the list, too.
Chapter 7
Hearing the door open, General von Lintelo turned to see who was entering the chamber in Ingolstadt’s Rathaus that he’d seized for his headquarters. To his surprise, the officer coming in was Colonel Caspar von Schnetter. He hadn’t expected him back so soon.
“Simpson seems to have escaped, sir,” said von Schnetter. “His wife also. The cavalry unit I sent to investigate found all three of the men assigned to that task dead. All of them in or near the door, which had been smashed in. Somehow, the Americans must have gotten a warning.”
“By their radio?” asked one of the other cavalry officers in the room. That was Major Johann Adam Weyhel von Eckersdörfer, usually known simply as Weyhel.
Von Lintelo had to put a stop to that immediately. Even the Americans’ enemies—perhaps especially their enemies—had a bad habit of ascribing near-magical powers to the up-timers’ technology.
“Nonsense,” he said firmly. “The assassins simply bungled, that’s all. What happened to them afterward, Colonel? The American couple, I mean.”
Von Lintelo already knew the answer to that question. In light of the latest developments, it was quite obvious. But he was a firm believer in the tried and tested method of reminding subordinates of their flaws and shortcomings.
Von Schnetter hesitated. “Ah...I don’t really know, General. Perhaps...”
“Again, nonsense!” von Lintelo boomed. “It’s obvious that Simpson managed to rejoin his artillery unit—which would account, of course, for their success in driving off your attack on the barracks.”
The “your” was a collective pronoun, in this case. Von Schnetter hadn’t been personally in charge of that mission. In point of fact, none of the officers in the room had been assigned to the mission. But they were part of von Lintelo’s staff, the staff had clearly bungled, and since these were the officers present at the moment they would be the ones to receive his chastisement.
The general, a devout Catholic, did not share the Protestant superstitions about Biblical texts. But there was no denying the wisdom in the Proverbs, one of which was: He that spares his rod hates his son. That applied just as much to subordinate officers as it did to children.
Von Schnetter flushed a little. But, of course, made no protest. Timon von Lintelo was one of Bavaria’s most prestigious figures, and not just in the military. He was a member of Duke Maximilian’s privy council as well as holding the rank of major general. It was a measure of the duke’s trust that he had placed von Lintelo in charge of retaking Ingolstadt.
A charge which von Lintelo had not failed, even if his success had a few ragged edges.
Speaking of which...
“And where is the artillery unit now, Colonel?”
“Ah... They seem to have left the city, General.”
“Escaped you, in other words.”
Von Schnetter said nothing. After a moment, von Lintelo decided to relent a little. The colonel had not been directly in charge, after all.
“Never mind, Caspar. What’s done is done.”
“I could lead a pursuit, sir,” said Johann von Troiberz, one of the cavalry officers present.
The man’s tone was obsequious. Von Lintelo had no objection to that, but in von Troiberz’s case the fawning habits were tied to a man in whom the general had no great confidence. If he decided to launch a pursuit after the American officer and his artillery company, von Lintelo would give the assignment to Lorenz Münch von Steinach. Colonel Münch was as much of a sycophant as von Troiberz, but he was also a lot more competent.
But it was a bad idea, to begin with. “They made their escape through the eastern gate, I assume?” he said. The artillery barracks were located very near to it.
Von Schnetter nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“In that case”—he looked at von Troiberz—“I have better use for the cavalry. We need to send every cavalry unit available to the north, to Amberg. At first light.”
Seeing the expressions on the faces of several of his subordinates, von Lintelo sighed loudly with exasperation. “I don’t propose to seize the city, gentlemen. Not now, before we’ve taken Regensburg. But the heirs to the duchy are being held there. They need to be rescued.”