1636： The Saxon Uprising ARC - By Eric Flint Page 0,112

at this very same airport tomorrow morning. There’d be a huge crowd to greet them, Eddie was quite sure. Then, a huge crowd lining the road leading into Magdeburg, and another huge crowd to greet them when they arrived in Hans Richter Square. Some firm hand was guiding this odd government-in-exile, obviously, and would see to it.

(Very odd exile, given that they were located in the actual capital of the nation. But it was an odd civil war, when you got right down to it.)

Eddie wondered who that firm hand was. His own guess was Rebecca Abrabanel. But if he was right, no one except a handful would ever really know. It would be in the nature of the woman to maintain a collegial appearance at all times. Despite her striking physical appearance, she was in many ways the opposite of her husband.

Mike Stearns, like his monarch, was one of those people who strode about the stage of history. Very dramatic, very visible to all. The Prince of Germany to match the Golden King.

Rebecca Abrabanel? She would have no nicknames, carry no monicker. Or if she did, it would be something referring to her beauty rather than her brains and political skill. Yet in her own way, Eddie was coming to think, she was as important a player as almost any on that stage. More important than most, for a certainty.

The refueling was done. The plane was ready to fly again. Eddie clambered back into the cockpit.

As he settled into his seat, he caught sight of Gunther Achterhof. The leader of the capital city’s Committee of Correspondence was one of a handful of people still standing near the plane.

He had what almost looked like a scowl on his face. Moved by a sudden impulse, Eddie leaned out of the still-open window.

“Cheer up, Gunther! Look at this way. If I crash and burn, you get a republic after all.”

He followed that with a thumbs up and went back to checking his gauges.

Time to go. The weather was still superb.

He gave Achterhof a last glance. The man now had a peculiar sort of vulpine smile on his face. And he returned Eddie’s gesture with a thumbs-up of his own.

That gesture could be interpreted in two different ways, of course. Good luck or I hope you crash and burn, you fucking jackass.

Either way, Eddie was cheered up. He took off with a grin on his face.

Chapter 32

Dresden, capital of Saxony

Eric Krenz woke to the sound of gunfire. He didn’t need Tata, this time, to roll him out of bed. Before she’d fully awakened herself, he was already half-dressed.

Those weren’t simply the sounds of cannon fire. There was also the unmistakably distinctive sound of volley guns being fired. That could only mean one thing.

“What’s happening?” Tata asked, her voice still a bit fuzzy from sleep.

“They’re coming across the ice! I didn’t think even Banér was that fucking crazy!”

He finished jerking on his boots and practically flew out of the door. “If a man insists on being an idiot, he could at least try to be intelligent about it!”

As soon as Eric reached the street, he realized why Banér had launched the attack. There was a heavy overcast, enough to make it impossible to see more than thirty yards in any direction, even with a half-moon. The Swedes would have been able to get most of the way across the Elbe before being spotted.

Not that it would do them much good now. As he hurried toward the fortifications along the river, he could see rockets firing. These weren’t artillery rounds. General Stearns—his staff, rather—had never been fond of the temperamental devices and didn’t use them as weapons. So, none of the soldiers from the Third Division who’d been sent to Dresden to recuperate from injuries had any experience with the heavy rockets used by some units as artillery.

The Third Division did, on the other hand, use rockets as flares and signaling devices. Krenz and his fellow officers had ordered a number made by the city’s artisans, for precisely the purpose they were being put to now—illuminating the area in the event of a night assault.

They were some real advantages, Eric had discovered, to fighting a siege when you were the ones inside the walls. At least, if they were the walls of a major city like Dresden, with its many workshops and manufactories, and hundreds of skilled craftsmen. The volley guns he could hear rattling away in the distance had been made here also. Dozens