Analog SFF, April 2010 by Dell Magazine Authors Page A

his face stiff with grief, and saluted as Benton approached. “Beg to report, captain, that Private Murphy and Private Frost are dead."
    "I heard.” Benton dismounted and knelt by the bodies. The dead soldiers had already been laid out properly, their eyes closed. “They were good men."
    "Yes, sir. Captain, sir, how do we bury them, sir?” O'Hare seemed very agitated as he asked the question.
    "Like any soldier, corporal. A sad duty, but it's one we've carried out before this. Why do you ask?"
    "Captain, sir, it's—” O'Hare waved a hand to encompass their surroundings. “I haven't seen a church here, sir. Not one. And not one man of God, neither. The city folk are nice and all, but they've never heard of Him. How can we give our men a proper burial if . . . if the Lord's not here to accept them?"
    Benton stood up, raising one hand to clasp O'Hare's shoulder. “Corporal, were you taught that He is everywhere?"
    "Yes, sir. That I was."
    "Then He is here, corporal. We will bury our men as they would have wished to be buried, with the full regulation service, and He will take their souls in His hand, because He is here with us."
    O'Hare's face cleared, anxiety being replaced by a relieved smile. “Of course, sir. I knew I should ask you right off, captain. Yes, sir. At the city, sir? We'll bury them there? The city folk won't mind the crosses on the grave markers, will they?"
    "No, corporal, the Asterans won't mind."
    As Benton mounted again, Lieutenant Garret came to stand by his stirrup. “Captain, that thing you told the corporal,” Garret asked quietly. “Do you believe it?"
    Benton leaned forward, looking down at Garret, “Lieutenant, during the war the 5th Cavalry fought in a lot of battles. The Wilderness was one of them. It was also the nearest thing to hell I ever hope to experience. During the Wilderness, I thought the only way I could possibly live through the fight would be if the Lord stayed right beside me. As you see, I did survive the battle. If the Lord could be with me through that, I'm sure He's here, too."
    "But what if our world is still there somehow, if both it and this world exist at the same time?"
    "If General Grant could handle more than one division, I reckon the Lord can handle more than one world, lieutenant. Make sure O'Hare has all the help he needs to get Private Murphy's and Private Frost's remains prepared for the ride to Astera."
    Wearily, Benton rode back toward the fight. The massacre seemed to have stopped, and now the Asterans were holding under guard about two hundred Wikosans who had finally surrendered rather than fight to the death. Benton guessed that something on the order of fifteen hundred Wikosans lay dead on the field.
    He spotted Freya riding toward him, a trickle of blood welling from a long cut on one side of her somber face, and Benton's breath caught for a moment. Freya was wearing the same battle gear as when he had first seen her, and though the rents in the chain mail then had since been repaired, there were new gashes in the mail from today's fight. Thank heavens she's all right. What a woman, to conceive and win such a battle as this. No. All I need say is what a woman. I don't need to add more than that.
    Freya reined in next to him and gave Benton an Asteran salute. “My friend and ally. Thank you. This could not have happened without your cavalry. The mounted forces facing us fled when they heard your weapons. I thank the Light that you have survived and brought home the head of an enemy."
    There seemed to be a lot of emotion behind Freya's words. Wondering if that was just because of the passions generated by the battle, Benton looked away and found himself gazing toward the surviving Wikosans, who were staring back at him with dread and despair. “What's going to happen to them?"
    Freya shrugged. “They laid down their arms rather than die holding their place, so they belong to us now, and there's much work to be done in and around Astera."
    It took