“Can’t we make a plan to organize and avoid chaos?” asked Param.
“Every soldier would have to know the whole plan,” said Loaf. “Never a good idea.”
“Why isn’t it a good idea?” said Umbo quietly.
Loaf shook his head. “The less the footsoldiers know of the plans of the commanders, the better.”
“Isn’t that so they can’t betray our plans to the enemy?” asked Rigg. “But if we appear all at once, in the midst of their camp, with every soldier knowing exactly what’s expected of him and where to form up as soon as his assignment is complete—there’s no time for any of our soldiers to be taken and spill our plans.”
Loaf nodded. “I can see that. I’ve had it ingrained in me that footsoldiers can never know more than their immediate assignment, but . . .”
“That’s all we’ll tell them anyway,” said Square. “How to cause maximum terror and destruction for about five minutes, then form back into a coherent unit before going off in pursuit of fleeing enemies.”
“You were actually paying attention when I lectured to you,” said Loaf approvingly.
“Now and then,” said Square, “when you’re saying something sensible.”
It was time, Param realized. “Now I will not ask a question. Now I’m making a decision. Let’s take a few days, a week, whatever you think we need, to train the men to engage in a surprise attack, then form back into units for the pursuit and destruction of the enemy.”
“And how to divide out small units to guard the prisoners. The ones who surrender.” Rigg looked around, as if daring anyone to contradict him. “Many of them will throw down their weapons and our goal is not slaughter, it’s destruction of the army. Capture is better than slaughter.”
“Unless it takes too many of our men to guard them.”
“I’ll be there,” said Rigg. “To take them into the past, without their weapons. King Umbo, too. We’ll push them so far into the past there’ll be no place for them to hide, no farmers or villagers to help them.”
“No one can hide from a pathfinder anyway,” said Square.
“I think it’s a decent plan,” said Olivenko. “Worth trying, to see what goes wrong.”
“And there you’ll be,” said Loaf. “Rigg and Umbo, separated from each other and surrounded by enemies. Just one arrow or javelin away from stranding our army far from their wives and children, unable to come back and fix things if things go wrong.”
“King Umbo can send them from a distance,” said Rigg. “He doesn’t have to be touching them.”
“Then I’ll do all the sending,” said Umbo.
/> “The decision is made,” said Param. “This is what we’ll train for. How many days?”
“Till they know the drill,” said Loaf. “It’s not as if we have a deadline at this point in time. It’s the arrival that has to be exact.”
“I wish,” said Rigg softly, “that there were some way for Noxon to send us a message when he completes his mission.”
“There is,” said Square. “The world isn’t destroyed. Message received.”
“Maybe I’ll go forward in time while you’re all preparing,” said Rigg.
“Nothing’s changed,” said Umbo.
Silence again.
“I check every morning,” said Umbo. “Nothing’s changed yet.”
Param thought of what that meant. Umbo leaping forward in time to see if the world was still destroyed on schedule, and returning because the destruction was inevitable.
Why bother doing all this, if relieving the people of the brutal regime of Hagia and Haddamander only bettered their lives for a couple of years, and then the world ended anyway?
As if he knew what she was thinking, Rigg said, “We have to fight and plan as if we had a future. In case we actually get one.”
“Decided,” said Param. “This command goes forth from the Tent of Light: So let it be done.”