Mike saw no advantage to undermining his case by dragging in two other nations himself. Officially, his ties to Kristina as a general in the USE army were derived solely from her position in that nation and no other.
Legal folderol, it could be argued. Hadn’t Mike himself said publicly that what defined a civil war was the collapse of the rule of law?
Yes, he had. But defining something was not the same as advocating it. From the beginning, his side in this civil war had positioned itself to be the champion of law and proper procedure, and had forced Oxenstierna into the position of being the one overturning the rule of law. That might not count for much in the ranks of Oxenstierna’s diehard supporters—it certainly didn’t count for much in the minds of diehard CoC members—but it did matter to wide swaths of the German populace. So far, with very few exceptions, the town militias had stayed out of the fight. So had the provincial armies. Mike wanted to keep it that way.
Rest assured that the Third Division’s loyalty to the Vasa dynasty is not in question. Our quarrel is not with you or with your father. It is with the usurper Oxenstierna and his minions.
“That’s done too, sir.”
“Here’s the second transmission to Magdeburg.”
The Third Division commends the prudent actions of the legal representatives of the legitimate parliament, who have remained at their posts in the nation’s legitimate capital of Magdeburg. We give those legal members of parliament the same assurances we give the crown.
There followed a laundry list of praises heaped upon just about everybody who’d had the good sense to stay on the sidelines—not just the parliament members in Magdeburg but the regional heads of state, the mayors and councils of the imperial cities, town militias, etc., etc., etc. This list was even longer than the denunciations of Oxenstierna.
When he was done, Jimmy flexed his fingers for a few seconds. He was sending the transmissions in Morse code as well as vocally. Most of the USE’s radios were still limited to Morse code.
“Okay, sir. What’s next?”
“We’re almost done. This is the final one. It’s a transmission to General Banér.”
To Johan Banér, general in command of the Swedish army besieging Dresden
From Michael Stearns, major general in command of the USE Army Third Division
Your assault on Dresden is illegal, immoral, treasonous, and ungodly.
Mike thought the “ungodly” part was a nice touch. Being an agnostic himself, he had no idea how you’d parse the theology involved. But the Germanies were crawling with theologians. Within twenty-four hours of the transmission there’d probably be at least two competing and hostile schools of doctrine. Within forty-eight hours, charges of heresy were sure to be thrown about.
You have forty-eight hours to remove your troops from the siege lines around Dresden. Seventy-two hours after that, your troops must have departed Saxony and returned to the Oberpfalz, where you can employ them to fight Bavarian invaders instead of murdering German civilians.
I will expect an answer within twenty-four hours indicating your agreement to these conditions. Failing such an answer, I propose to move immediately upon your works.
The last clause was swiped from Ulysses Grant’s terms at Fort Donelson, if he remembered his history properly. Mike thought the words had a nice ring to them.
The entire message was designed to make Banér blow his stack. There was no chance the Swedish general would agree to end the siege of Dresden, no matter how Mike put the matter. So he figured he might as well see if he could so enrage the man—Banér’s temper was notorious—that he’d make some mistakes.
There was probably some term derived from Latin to describe the tactic in military parlance. Street kids playing a pick-up basketball game would call it “trash talk.” Mike had used the same term in his boxing days.
You never knew. Sometimes it worked.
“Anything else, sir?” Jimmy asked.
“No,” he said. “I think that will do.”
Chapter 39
Swedish army siege lines, outside Dresden
“I’ll kill him!” Johan Banér roared. “I’ll kill him!”
The Swedish general had already torn the message to shreds. Now he picked up the stool he’d been sitting on when he was handed the message and smashed it down on the writing desk. If his adjutant hadn’t been sensible enough to retreat as soon as he’d handed over the radio slip, his own skull would probably have been the stool’s target.