Heisel inclined his head. "Julius, my friend."
"I will send the message, Christoph. Then, like you, I will follow in the train of the Irish colonels' regiments. Who knows what we may yet find out." Brandt's smile was feral. "And I will keep the Honorable Tuna Tin, except between us. Of my army names, it's probably the best."
Lorraine, March 1635
"Well, Julius, my friend?"
"I agree. This is something we should transmit—that the Irishmen are going south through Lorraine. Here, though, Christoph? Where am I to throw the wire? Not in the middle of the camp, certainly."
"No point in trying tonight."
"Nor tomorrow night, if this keeps up." Brandt was sitting cross-legged on top of an overturned feeding trough. Little trickles of water ran under the tent wall, under the trough, and out again.
"What hellish weather. Butler requisitions the best house in every damned village for his Bohemian countess. Nothing but the best. Featherbeds, even, sometimes. Still—whine, whine, whine, whine, whine."
Brandt looked around at the wagons. "There must be five times as many camp followers as there are dragoons in the regiments. At least, it seems so."
"The regiments are low. It was a hard winter in Euskirchen. Wet lungs. Hunger. Cold. Dysentery. Desertions. It didn't help that the ground was frozen hard much of the time, so we had to stack the dead, waiting for a thaw." Heisel started counting on his fingers. "Each of the colonels should, in theory, have eight hundred dragoons. Deveroux has done best. He has perhaps six hundred; Butler close to that. Geraldin possibly still has five hundred. If MacDonald has three hundred effectives, I would be surprised. Two thousand men. Maybe a little less."
Brandt smiled. "So sad. MacDonald is trying to hide the situation, even from his colleagues, by having boys from the stables and women in trousers ride some of his horses. I fear that Duke Maximilian will be gravely disappointed in what he is getting for his money."
"Where do I throw the wire? Not inside the camp with so many people around."
"We will have to creep outside of the sentry lines. I don't think we can do it tonight, yet. That freezing rain has stopped, but there are clouds and no moon. If you should lose hold of the wire when you throw it, we won't be able to find it again. I doubt very much that there is an equivalent length of good wire anywhere else in this camp. General Brahe will have to wait for better weather."
"Have you seen Gruyard? They want to know about Gruyard."
"He is traveling with the chaplains—Taaffe and Carew—in Butler's wife's wagon."
"Good, then we know where he is. We need to transmit that, too."
"When God permits, Julius, my friend. It is not for us to control the weather."
"Maybe tonight."
"Tonight, whether we lose the antenna or not. Dislav heard one of the colonels say that tomorrow we turn toward the east. They plan for Deveroux to break away. He will take his own men and Geraldin's. They hope that he can do to Merckweiler what Turenne did to Wietze and then quickly rejoin Butler."
"Don't forget to tell them about Gruyard."
"At least, since I'm attached to Geraldin's horses, I'll be able to follow along on the raid. But you will have the tuna tin, so what good will it do for me to be there?"
"Such things happen. Fate. Destiny. It is all part of the divine plan."
Heisel's face suddenly brightened. "The regiments that General Brahe left at Merckweiler last year have tuna tins. They should have two or three spare tuna tins, perhaps. Extras, in case of failure of working parts. Perhaps I can run away from Geraldin, ahead of the dragoons, go into Merckweiler, tell them who I am, tell them what I know, and get a tuna tin of my own as a reward. I love those words, 'down-time built with up-time parts.' They are like poetry."
Brandt smirked. "Your idea just goes to show that even divine plans can be improved on. I wouldn't count on getting the tuna tin, though."
"Ah, no. As Jeffie the up-timer says, 'The only reward you get for a job well done is another job.' "
"Now that's scarcely an inspiring thought."
"Have you gotten the antenna up? We have to finish this job, first."
Barracktown bei Fulda, March 4, 1635
"It just came in on the Post Office receiver," David Kronberg said. All we got was in Morse, but VOA is providing live coverage. Maybe Mel Springer's new setup in downtown Fulda is doing better. Our crystal set is nothing but static."
"Damn, but I'm sorry to hear that about Henry Dreeson," Jeffie Garand said. "I liked old Henry. I didn't even mind playing 'High Hopes' for him on that march we did against the anti-Semites down in Frankfurt. Do you suppose they're the ones who did him in?"