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The party boarded, Weiss looking nervously at the two heavily laden ore
carriers now in front of them.
With a toot to the whistle the engine pulled out of the station and quickly
gathered speed as they slipped into the first downhill grade.
The diminutive train rocked and pitched over the tracks, and Andrew gulped as
he leaned over and saw the long grade back down toward the mills.
The six Suzdalian brakemen stood to their posts and grabbing hold of their
heavy oaken levers leaned in with all their weight.
A wild shrieking rent the air, and with sparks flying the train careened down
the track. Andrew looked over at Kathleen, who nervously drew closer to him.
Her hand slipped out and took his, and he drew her closer.
It was the first time they had touched each other in weeks, and he felt a
delicious chill run through his body.
There had been no time over the last two months nearly every moment he had
been out on his rounds, while she had jumped into the role of establishing a
school to train nurses for the forthcoming battle. Weeks had gone by without
their even seeing each other, and he had been surprised when his offer for
this day off had been so eagerly accepted.
On down the hill they roared, passing the foundry, grain mill, and sawmill.
All the time she stayed close by his side, while even Ferguson showed a look
of nervousness at the wild bone-jarring ride.
As they dropped down out of the hills, Fort Lincoln came into view. The
switchman leaped to his position and threw the lever over.
The engine roared onward, hitting the turn with such speed that for a second
Andrew thought the train would leap the track, but it stayed on its course,
rattling over the mill-stream bridge heading north.
Onward they raced, over the rolling countryside, the party relaxing now that
the worst part of the ride had been passed, but still Kathleen lingered by
Andrew's side.
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They came to a gentle downward grade into a towering cathedral of pines. There
had been talk of razing them for fuel, but somehow Andrew could not bring
himself to do that, war or no war, and he had ordered this stand of forest to
be spared.
He was glad now of his decision as the scent of pine washed over him.
Looking heavenward, he delighted in the shafts of light breaking down through
the towering tops of the forest, and sparing a sidelong glance, he saw that
Kathleen was taking pleasure in the view as well.
The train rattled over another bridge and the forest started to broaden out.
They charged past the spot where Mikhail had confronted them on the day they
had first marched toward Suzdal.
The man was still alive to the east, Andrew thought, uniting the cities of
Vazima and Psov, where all who wished to submit to the Tugars had fled,
seizing the position of Ivan, who had died, like Boros, during the riots. In
many ways Andrew realized it was for the best to have such a place. That way
the only ones who stayed were committed. He could only hope, for the sake of
the hundreds of thousands who chose not to resist, that the Tugar wrath would
not descend upon them out of revenge.
They crested up out of the dale and the city of Suzdal came into view, and at
the sight of the train, a distant cheer went up.
Onward the train rushed, the city walls coming closer and closer.
Holding down the whistle, Malady signaled ahead, where the switchman threw the
lever over to send the engine northward around the edge of the city rather
than to the south heading, still uncompleted, that led down to the docks.
The incongruity of it all filled Andrew with delight. Suzdal still looked for
all the world like a vast medieval setting for a fairy tale, its log
structures, onion-domed buildings, and church spires standing out sharp and
crisp in the chilly morning air. Onward the train rattled, crossing through a
gate to pass inside the breastworks, where thousands of laborers now worked to
throw up the outer line of defense for the city. It seemed as if the entire
city had come to a standstill, as the Suzdalians, filled either with fear or
astonishment, watched the
Waterville chugging past, Malady merrily tooting the whistle and waving.
Kal climbed atop an ore hopper, waving excitedly, and started to dance a jig.
Andrew and the others laughed at his antics, all of them knowing that the wily
character was showing off to calm the fears many would have over this bizarre
contraption.
Running down along the east wall, the track finally reached the northern edge
of the city and turned east near the banks of the Vina River and headed toward
the great mill. Finally one end of the line came into sight, and the engine
slowed and came to a halt.
Breathing a sigh of relief, Emil was the first to jump off, the others quickly
following. As the group watched, a team of Suzdalians swarmed up to the ore
carriers, attaching ropes to one side. Two burly men stepped up to either side
of the car and knocked out wedges under the sides of the hoppers. With a pull
on the ropes, the hopper tilted over, while its carriage remained on the
track. A torrent of ore spilled out onto the ground, and in an instant a gang
of laborers swarmed over the rock and set to shoveling it onto the horse-drawn
wagons waiting for the load.
Malady came back to the group, grinning broadly, his face and hands smeared
with grease.
"She runs like a honey, she does. Little leaky around the cylinders, and the
wheels aren't quite in full round, but not tad for a first try."
Andrew looked at the group and smiled.
"Shall we go up the line and check on the progress?"
"What I was hoping for," Mina said. "A lot's been done in the last week, sir."
"All right, major, lead the way."
Going over to a wagon, the group hopped aboard. Kal jumped up front, grabbed
the reins, and snapped the two massive horses into a trot.
Following the track roadbed up the gentle slope, they passed hundreds of men
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laboring with picks to cut the grade, while others, carrying baskets tied to
their backs, struggled with loads of crushed rock.
Kal called good-natured comments to the men. He stopped several times to leap
off the wagon, lend a quick hand or trade comments, and then jumped back up
and set off again.
"He's like a stump politician splitting a rail or two to show he's of the
common folk," Emil said while Kal was off the wagon to help with a group
trying to lever a rock free from the frozen ground.
"Another old Abe," Andrew said, and the group laughed.
Rounding a turn in the path, they stopped before a flat open field over a
quarter mile across. The field was packed with several thousand men.
Andrew called for the wagon to be stopped, leaped off, and started across the
open area.
"Hans!"
The old sergeant turned around, a look of exasperation on his face, and at the
sight of Andrew turned back to the group under his control.
"Company, attenshun!"
The hundred-odd men under his control snapped rigidly into place, bringing up
the wooden sticks which were still the substitutes for muskets.
"And you call yourselves soldiers," Hans roared, his Suzdalian nearly
incomprehensible, and giving up, he turned to a torrent of abuse in
English.
The men seemed to understand nevertheless and looked nervously about.
Andrew came up to Hans's side and let the sergeant vent his spleen.
Finished at last, Hans looked back at Andrew and snapped off a salute.
"Sir, Company A of the 1st Suzdalian would be honored by your inspection,
sir."
"Thank you, sergeant."
"Company, present arms!"
The men snapped their wooden staffs up and nervously looked straight ahead.
With Hans standing respectfully behind his commander, Andrew stepped forward
and started down the line.
Could this ever possibly be turned into an army? he thought grimly. The men
stood ankle-deep in the slushy snow, most of them with feet wrapped in nothing
more than strips of burlap. There was no semblance of uniforms yet; effort
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