“May I suggest a siege?”
Edgar rubbed his soot-streaked chin.
Finstemayer continued. “If we focus our fire on the ships, they’ll be forced to pull away. Surround the city. Starve them out, and they must surrender.”
“And if the ships resupply them?” he asked.
“Then we blast them out of the water,” Green said. “Our soldiers can scavenge the farms and ranches nearby, hunt the forests for meat. We won’t run out, but they will.”
Edgar glowered, disgust bleeding into his ire. “Sieges take so long. I’ll send messengers on horseback to General Roundtree to reinforce us after he captures Stonevale. With our combined forces, we’ll roll right over Marchland’s defenses. Until then … we’ll go with Finstemayer’s proposal.”
A weight settled in Edgar’s gut, heavy and solid like a lead ball. He was loyal to a fault, but, if this invasion failed, would Irons use the same axe on him that had removed his predecessor’s head?
Chapter thirty-one
Stone Against Steel
Stonevale, same day
Colonel Miles Bourg stood a step behind General Roundtree on a grassy hill less than a kilometer from the town, fort, and noble castle that comprised Stonevale. Beyond the hill, a force of thirty thousand pitched tents in the valley, while patrols gathered supplies or scouted for traps.
Though he’d never met Roosevelt Roundtree before their forces joined for the invasion, he’d found much to admire about the older, stout man who wore his silver hair in a side part. He employed a calm, confident leadership style that never rushed, and he seemed to care about those under his command. It had taken several days, but they reached their destination without injury or incident.
On the general’s other side stood Colonel Joshua Hobbs, binoculars pressed to his eyes, his glasses in his other hand. He was shorter than Miles and about the same age, with a crew cut and a flowing sweep of dusty-brown hair covering his chin and upper lip.
“Gentlemen,” Roundtree began, “we have some decisions to make. General Garcia’s instructions were to spare no one—obliterate everything.”
“Do you intend to wage war on the civilians, sir?” Miles asked, his expression hardening. The thought struck like sour metal at the back of his tongue. “Women, children, and old people?” He pulled off his cap, raked freckled fingers through his red hair, then jammed it back on against the sun.
“The ramparts of Fort Calder will not be easily breached,” the general pointed out. “But we could drive our tanks and armored cars right down Main Street while our artillery bombards the military target.”
“But if they have armaments in the castle, our troops would be caught in crossfire,” Hobbs said, lowering the binoculars. “I didn’t see any, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t there.” He refitted his glasses on his nose.
“True.” Roundtree stared at their target as if deep in thought.
With a sudden, inspired expression, Hobbs said, “Isn’t that general we captured the son of this town’s lord? What if we could make a deal with them to trade the general and other prisoners for Stonevale’s surrender?”
“It could be worth a try,” Miles agreed. “Sun Tzu taught that the best path to victory is when you don’t have to fight.”
“Indeed, Colonel Bourg.” Roundtree smiled at him, appreciation shining in his eyes. “However, they will want to see General Calder to ensure he and the others are alive, and we left them back at the Corinth airfield. Besides, I doubt they’d consider it a fair trade.”
Hobbs’ excitement waned, and he slapped a bug on his neck. “They have the high ground,” he muttered.
“Yes, Colonel Hobbs, a very defensible position,” Roundtree noted. “If I were to pick a place to build a fortress, I could think of none better. However, their holding the high ground is not a foregone conclusion. Neither is their fortress impregnable. If we attack their citizenry, it will force them to leave their walls and meet us in the streets.”
“Hobbs, how many civilians did you spot out and about in the town?” Miles asked. “So far, noncombatants fled before we arrived.”
“I don’t know,” he said, flicking Miles a disgruntled smirk. “You look.” Stepping behind General Roundtree, he passed the binoculars to Miles.
Adjusting the wheel to focus for his eyes, Miles scanned the town. Some troop patrols, cargo trucks, and horse-drawn carts. He spotted one old couple sitting in rockers on their porch, as if daring them to attack. No other civilians.
“Only the military are outside,” he said, “but women and children could be hiding in safe places—churches or basements.”
“Or they could have evacuated,” Roundtree concluded. “Garcia would say total war is the only path to victory.”
“But, sir,” Miles said in a tone that caught the general’s attention. He met Miles’ gaze, brows arched. “When the Republic flag flies above Stonevale, above the Capitol Building in Nelanta, don’t we want citizens to rule over? Won’t we need people to farm the land and run the mills? Don’t we want them to embrace our religion and way of life? How will they ever do so if they only view us as butchers? You didn’t burn crops or slaughter cattle on our way here because you realize we will need those resources when the fighting ends. How much more thehumanresources?”
“You make a logical case for minimizing civilian casualties,” Roundtree answered. “I’ve already been working on a plan to minimize our own in the taking of Stonevale. Now I’ve decided you will spearhead my plan.”