time, was more in the nature of a shriek. "What is he thinking?"
Sure enough. The Confederates had hurled a second volley of javelins. The wagons looked even more like pincushions than before.
She sensed Adrian turning his head toward them. When he spoke, his voice had an odd timber to it. Helga almost shuddered; she did avoid her lover's eyes.
She'd heard that voice before, on occasion, and knew that Adrian's eyes would have that weird trance-haze look in them. She hated that look.
"I counted on this, Jessep."
That's a lie. A dead ancient general named Raj Whitehall counted on it.
"No one's ever tried to maneuver such a large army in the field in history. Even leaving aside the fact that it's being maneuvered against a completely new formation."
The voice was hollow, somehow. A ghost's voice rather a man's. That it was the voice of a very vigorous, self-confident and masculine sort of ghost made it all the more repellent to Helga. She'd come to love Adrian's own voice, with its undertone of whimsy and half-detached irony.
"It's sluggish, you see," the voice continued. "Bound to be. The officers can't really control it that well, from top to bottom. Too big—so big Tomsien probably can't even see all of it. So the army
Sure enough. The Confederates had hurled a second volley of javelins. The wagons looked even more like pincushions than before.
She sensed Adrian turning his head toward them. When he spoke, his voice had an odd timber to it. Helga almost shuddered; she did avoid her lover's eyes.
She'd heard that voice before, on occasion, and knew that Adrian's eyes would have that weird trance-haze look in them. She hated that look.
"I counted on this, Jessep."
That's a lie. A dead ancient general named Raj Whitehall counted on it.
"No one's ever tried to maneuver such a large army in the field in history. Even leaving aside the fact that it's being maneuvered against a completely new formation."
The voice was hollow, somehow. A ghost's voice rather a man's. That it was the voice of a very vigorous, self-confident and masculine sort of ghost made it all the more repellent to Helga. She'd come to love Adrian's own voice, with its undertone of whimsy and half-detached irony.
"It's sluggish, you see," the voice continued. "Bound to be. The officers can't really control it that well, from top to bottom. Too big—so big Tomsien probably can't even see all of it. So the army