The Guns of Empire by Django Wexler Page A

colonel of the Grenadier Guards. When the time comes, Her Majesty may need to be taken south for her own safety.”
    Marcus couldn’t imagine Raesinia accepting
that
without a fight, but he only nodded. “Do you anticipate things going badly, sir?”
    â€œOf course not. But if everything on this campaign goes as anticipated, that will make a first in the entire history of war.” Janus smiled again. “I’ve told you before that my reputation for omniscience is vastly overstated.” He turned away at the sound of boots on the path. “Ah, and here’s Ihernglass.”
    Nearly a year in the field had not been entirely kind to Winter Ihernglass, Marcus had to say. His silver-blond hair was cut to little more than fuzz, and even after months in winter quarters his cheeks had a gaunt look. His frame, never stout, had thinned to a knife’s edge, though he seemed as strong as ever.
    There was probably more to it than the constant campaigning. Marcus hesitated to put credence in camp gossip, but fairly solid rumor had it that Ihernglass’ lover, an officer in the Girls’ Own named Mad Jane, had betrayed the army during the fight with the Directory and tried to kill him before escaping. Ihernglass, it was said, was taking it badly. While Marcus wasn’t without sympathy—he thought of Jen Alhundt—he wondered if the man’s personal life would affect his performance.
He still has Janus’ confidence, though, and that’s all that matters.
    He’d brought two staff captains with him, both women. Marcus had almost, but not quite, lost his visceral surprise at seeing women in soldier’s uniforms, but the whole concept still made him uncomfortable. He couldn’t dispute that they could fight—they’d cut through the Patriot Guard in Vordan City, and even rescued the queen himself—but now that the immediate crisis was past, he couldn’t help but wish they’d been left behind somewhere safe.
Guarding the queen, maybe, back in Vordan.
But Janus seemed to have no qualms about these strange soldiers, and Marcus was forced once again to hold his tongue.
    â€œSir.” Ihernglass saluted smartly, his staff following suit.
    â€œWelcome, Division-General Ihernglass,” Janus said.
    He led the way inside the big tent. A large folding table held several maps of different sizes and scales, marked and annotated in grease pencil. Janus took up position at the head of the table, and the others arranged themselves around it.
    â€œI’m not sure if everyone has met,” Ihernglass said. He gestured to his left, at a young, pretty brunette standing at stiff attention. On his other side, the slim,dark-haired woman seemed more composed. “This is Captain Bobby Forester and Captain Cytomandiclea.”
    â€œIt’s an honor, sir!” Bobby said, a little too loudly.
    â€œLikewise,” the other woman said.
    â€œCytomandiclea,” Janus said. “After the Mithradacii queen?”
    â€œAh, yes, sir,” Cyte said, startled. “And please call me Cyte if you like.”
    â€œAn understudied figure, I’ve always thought. There’s far too much attention devoted to the likes of Andromachus and Vestarian, in spite of the fact that all their famous campaigns amounted to little more than burning down a bunch of peasant villages. The whole Fall of the Tyrants era is sadly underdocumented, of course.”
    Marcus, who had long ceased to be surprised at the esoteric knowledge Janus could pull out of his hat at a moment’s notice, cleared his throat and said, “I’m Column-General Marcus d’Ivoire.”
    â€œI’ve read about the Khandarai campaign,” Cyte said. “It’s an honor to meet you as well.”
    She smiled, which relaxed the somewhat severe lines of her face, and Marcus felt himself blushing a little under his beard. He gritted his teeth.
Another reason why women shouldn’t