At the Queen_s command

Caleb's men-whom the others had taken to calling the Bookworms-had made a point of carrying a diary, pencils or pens, and at least one other book. They planned, during pauses in the marches, to read to each other, continuing their education on the way. Not to be outdone, Makepeace had managed to find himself a copy of the Bible and threatened to read the entire thing to every Tharyngian left alive at Fort Cuivre.

"I reckon them books will get heavy, Major."

"I believe you are correct. I suggested they read from one of them until it was finished, then move to the next. I suspect some will be abandoned in Hattersburg."

"We'll be leaving more than books." Nathaniel pointed to a skinny man whose buckskin clothes hung on him like mammoth hide on a mouse. "It was kindly of Bishop Bumble to give us Mr. Beecher to tend to our spiritual needs, but he ain't gonna make it."

"It could be worse."

Nathaniel smiled. At the end of his sermon, Bishop Bumble announced that he would accompany Lord Rivendell and his army. This appeared to surprise his wife, who began crying and had to be comforted by Lilith and Mrs. Frost. Mrs. Frost appeared a bit weepy, too, but she put on a brave face when she said her good-byes to Caleb.

"True enough, Major." Justice Bone, who got himself elected Corporal in charge of the third squad, had picked Beecher as part of his squad. The other men split up his heavier gear, leaving him with a knife, his Bible, and his blanket pack. The squad would eat their way through his supplies first, then let him

carry his empty canvas pack until they resupplied at Hattersburg.

"I reckon I will head back and see to the first squad."

"Thank you, Captain."

Forest had deployed his hundred and forty men well for traveling. A pair of men headed out in front of the column, a pair flanked it either side, and two followed it, rotating the duty through all the men in whichever squad had that particular assignment. Since the northerners knew the area better, they got the honor of guaranteeing the unit's safety.

The Bookworms had won the job of rearguard for the march from Temperance. As Nathaniel fell back, he greeted men and pet a number of the dogs traveling with the column. A few men had fitted their dogs with packs, but most just muzzled them. Dogs made sniffing out ambushes much easier, and the muzzles prevented a lot of barking from alerting the enemy to their location.

The Bookworms appeared to be in high spirits by the time Nathaniel reached them. They clearly were enjoying their new clothes-they had outfitted themselves in buckskins head to toe, having bartered clothes from Norisle in some cases for soiled and ratty skins. Nathaniel was pretty sure none of them had killed any of the animals whose skins they'd pulled on. They walked with a swagger the long miles would burn out of them. He expected half would remain in Hattersburg, but it pleased him to have them along.

Makepeace had dropped all the way back to school whichever Bookworm marched beside him. Nathaniel fell in beside Caleb, who traveled with his fellows despite being in charge of the fifth squad. Caleb, himself wearing a black felt, slouch-brimmed hat, gave Nathaniel a nod.

"How does it look up front, Captain?"

"Moving right along." Nathaniel acknowledged the Bookworms with a nod. "How are your boys holding up?"

"We've barely gotten a mile, Captain. They will be fine."

"Going's easy now."

Caleb nodded. "Most all of them know it."

"Way I see it, you have two jobs, Lieutenant Frost." A long line of men walking two abreast wound its way down the road. "First is to see to the fifth squad. Makepeace will see to your Bookworms."

"I understand."

"Second, don't be preaching no glory and duty." Nathaniel smiled. "Leave all the preaching to Mr. Beecher."

"I don't believe I understand your point, Captain."

"Men will talk themselves into all manner of stupid things. See it mostly when they been drinking. But speechifying, that will make some men drunk. And glory-seeking is stupid. On this here long walk we will be wet, bug bit, snake bit, thorn-scratched, hot, cold, hungry, thirsty, sore, shot at, and just plain tired. A man what figgers he's doing all that for glory, he's a man who will run when he learns there ain't no glory. Man who won't run is one who looks on down inside and knows he's doing this for himself and his kin, the ones he loves."

"My men won't run."

"I will accept your word on that. Just soes you know that you need to treat them like men. Make 'em believe they can do it and they will. Tease them with a reward that don't mean nothing, and they won't."

"Thank you, Captain."

"And you can get through this, Caleb."

The younger man smiled. "I know. Captain, I hope you won't mind, but I did something for you, back in Temperance."

"What would that be?"

"I know you didn't get a chance to see Rachel before we marched. So I told my sister to tell her that you wished Rachel well."

Nathaniel nodded slowly. "You know you oughten not poke your nose into a man's affairs."

"I know, but…"