“I appreciate your honesty, Commander van Gorzen,” Vo said to the tall, thin officer standing across the pavilion space from him. “I would not have expected to say this, but I will be sorry not to have you with me. I think you would have made a good cohort commander for the 189th Legion.”
“Thank you, General zu Arlo,” the man replied crisply.
Van Gorzen did everything crisply, Vo had learned after watching the man for the last few months. Sharp, precise, concise. If the officer still had occasional issues with being a nobleman surrounded by jumped-up commoners, and being subordinate to a foreigner, as well, van Gorzen had proven himself a capable officer, routinely scoring in the top three in everything he tried from an academic standpoint. Not a man for a thirty kilometer march in full gear, but even then he had given credible performances.
“So what’s next for you, Commander?” Vo asked.
The graduation ceremony had been relatively low-key, as these things went. Officers in dress uniform and a reception to congratulate them on surviving Field School. Less than one hundred people in attendance, all of them male, twenty-seven of whom were the students.
Vo had managed to get van Gorzen away from everyone for a private conversation. A pavilion that had been set up in case of rain, on what turned out to be a nice-enough day.
The commander beamed a rare smile, from what had turned out to be a focused, taciturn man, once Vo had spent time to really know him.
“My uncle, the Duke, raises horses, General,” van Gorzen replied. “I have ridden since I was a child, but it was always for fun, rather than competition. The Grand Marshal wants to create something like your old unit, the Fourth Saxon Legion. He’s tapped me to start recruiting ranchers to train war horses, and officers.”
“Dragoons?” Vo asked, intrigued.
He had suggested something similar to Jenker when they first met. It was a pleasant surprise that the man was following up on it.
“Initially, yes,” van Gorzen said. “Eventually, we’ll transition to hussars, possibly lancers, although I expect that to take at least a decade. My mission is to start simple and work our way up. I cannot imagine the war will be over soon.”
“I wish you the best of successes, Commander,” Vo said. “And if I can be of assistance, please don’t hesitate to ask.”
“I will, sir,” the man said. “It may be that we will want to recruit some retired Fourth Saxon troopers as training cadre, once we have a better understanding of the task. Thank you, again, for the generous offer.”
And then he was gone.
Honestly, there had been times, especially during those first weeks of class and exercises, when Vo had expected the man to snap. Taking orders from a commoner?
Of course, the fact that their supreme commander, Grand Marshal Jenker, had started out as a simple man of middle class heritage, had worked wonders on those men. None would have made it this far in the Imperial Land Forces if they hadn’t been able to overcome their snobbery.
A shadow at the edge of the pavilion.
Short. Broad. Present.
“Congratulations, General zu Arlo,” the Grand Marshal said as he entered the space, apparently having observed van Gorzen depart while remaining unseen.
“Thank you, sir,” Vo said. “What’s next?”
It still amazed him to be able to stand next to the man, completely at ease. Growing up over the last few years had been a bitch, but the benefits were pretty good.
“The 189th Legion, Expeditionary, Reinforced,” the Marshal said conversationally.
Jenker was only smaller than Vo physically. He was still a giant, when you measured martial capabilities. Many people made the mistake of not understanding that. For some, it had been their last mistake.
“The Emperor approved, then?” Vo asked. It hadn’t been a given, going in. Certainly, not in the hands of a foreigner.
But Vo and Karl VII had a bit of a…history.
“And the Grand Admiral,” Jenker nodded. “I understand you were interested in having Olaf van Gorzen on your staff. That surprised me, considering how you two met, but I could still order it.”
“That won’t be necessary, Grand Marshal,” Vo replied. “He’s a damned good officer, and he will do a good job with what you have him on next. I don’t think he’d be happy in the 189th long-term, given what I intend.”
“A general officer, living in the field, eating the same food as his troops?” Jenker grinned knowingly. “No wine, no mistresses, nothing soft?”
“There will be many who resent me, sir,” Vo said. “Resent my background, my class. My accent. Someone will figure out eventually that I was sentenced to the fleet instead of prison when I was seventeen.”
“I’m aware of your past as a now-reformed cat burglar, Arlo,” Jenker said. “We did a very deep investigation before any of this happened.”
“And there are days I still think you and Wachturm are crazy for doing it,” Vo replied. “But I understand my duty.”
“Arlo, you understand dedication to duty better than anyone I have ever known,” Grand Marshal Jenker stated firmly. “The only exceptions I am willing to grant are myself, the Grand Admiral, and most the Imperial Family. The locals, that is. Most of the more-remote cousins and uncles leave something to be desired, but they aren’t in my chain of command, Good Lord Ever Willing.”
“Thank you, Grand Marshal,” Vo said simply.
“No,” Jenker suddenly turned and saluted, fist over his heart in the ancient manner. “Thank you, zu Arlo. I cannot imagine where this galaxy would be right now, but for you.”