Joel Matowski stood up. "Enoch Wiley was an okay guy, too. Well, for a Presbyterian. If there's such a thing as a hardshell Presbyterian, he was one. We'd better get ourselves down to the barracks, just in case the regiment is called out for something."
The door of the sutlery banged open.
"Close the door," Riffa said. "It's sleeting sideways."
"Move out," Sergeant Hartke said. "Orders from Colonel Utt. All men to the barracks. We have a message via military radio from Mainz. Starting with even numbers, every other unit marches to join General Brahe at first daylight. Odd numbers stay here in the garrison. You know which unit you are." Under his breath, he added, "I hope."
"In this weather?" Margarethe asked.
Friedrich kissed her. "Sorry, sweetheart. In this weather, if that's what it takes."
Mainz, March 1635
"Margarethe," Theo said. "You're being unreasonable. You can't go, Rehgeißchen. You're pregnant."
"I've seen pregnant women in the camps."
"That's because they don't have anywhere else to be," her husband answered. "You are not supposed to even be in Mainz. You were not supposed to follow us. Did you see Dagmar Nilsdotter tramping out into this muck with a four-month-old baby? No. She stayed in her cabin at Barracktown like a mature, sensible army wife. Did Gertrud come with Jeffie? No, she stayed with her mother like a young, sensible, pregnant army wife. Which is what you are, except that you are not being sensible. What do I have to do? Tear out my hair?" Friedrich grabbed a handful and tugged on it.
Margarethe sobbed. "But Fritzi, even Papa is going with the army."
"He's the military chaplain for Brahe's Calvinist soldiers, my sweet sister." Theo slammed his fist on the table. "Of course he is going."
"But you," Friedrich said, "are not. I can't help it that you came this far, but no farther. You are going to wait right here at the Horn of Plenty until we come back."
"So, Nils, now you are a bachelor again, too." Derek Utt twirled his wine glass in his fingers. He didn't really want a drink right now. The night before you moved out always seemed to be the longest one in the year.
Brahe nodded. "Anna Margareta and the children left Wednesday. They are going up through Frankfurt and Fulda, then to Erfurt. From Erfurt to Magdeburg, and then as far north as the trains are still running, she, Elsa, and little Axel Petter will have the privilege of a railway ride. There was no reason for her to stay longer, once it was certain that I will be in the field during the summer. We will have another child in the autumn and there are projects to be accomplished on the estates in Finland. Money does not make itself."
"Mary Kat is expecting a baby, too. In August. Our first."
They congratulated one another on their husbandly prowess.
Utt thought a minute. "And your sister?"
Brahe gave him a wry smile. "It appears that while Erik Stenbock was last on my wife's list of prospective suitable husbands for her, Kerstin rated him as first. Confronted with the likelihood of being transported back to the northland, she took direct action in the form of simply telling me that she was going to marry him. She is twenty-five, of age by the strictest of standards, and I can only predict that once the mail arrives, my aunt, old Gustav Stenbock's widow, will be deliriously happy with her second son for snagging such an improbably prosperous bride. So there was no prospect of opposition there. My aunt still has three more children to marry off and, after all, Erik's sister Kristina is already married to my older brother Per, so . . . It's all in the family. It's not as if he's unsuitable. He just doesn't have much money, so he's seriously in need of a successful career—more than I can offer him here in Mainz. I gave them my blessing and arranged a promotion for him. They're off to work for Prince Frederik of Denmark in the Province of Westphalia, smug on her part and content on his."
"I'll send them my congratulations."
"I'm sure they'll be happy to accept."
Utt tipped his wine glass at a different angle, watching the candle flames dance through the liquid. "I hope you're satisfied with how I've been handling the Fulda Barracks Regiment's training. I realize it's pretty unconventional, no matter whether the standards are down-time or up-time."
"How does it differ from up-time?"
"Well, over in Grantville, they've really done their best to keep the model of 'bring the recruits in, gather them in one spot, put them through a routine called "basic training" a bunch at a time, and then assign them to units.' That's how I was trained, myself. It's just lucky that I stayed in the WVNG and kept my manuals. That's what Lane Grooms is doing now, even for the boys who are—if we are lucky—destined to be permanent reserves. He's thinking about defense against Saxony, of course, in a worst-case scenario."