Free Red Prophet: The Tales of Alvin Maker, Volume II by Orson Scott Card Page A

properly, rifles are so slow to load,” said Bonaparte.
    “They don’t volley at all, unless they outnumber you,” said La Fayette.
    “I’m telling it,” said Frederic. “Cornwallis got to Franklin and realized that half his army was dead, injured, or protecting his supply lines. Benedict Arnold—the Appalachee general—had fortified the city. Earthworks, balustrades, trenches all up and down the hillsides. Lord Cornwallis tried to lay a siege, but the Cherriky moved so silently that the Cavalier pickets never heard them bringing in supplies during the night. Fiendish, the way those Appalachee Whites worked so closely with the Reds—made them citizens, right from the start, if you can imagine, and it certainly paid off for them this time. Appalachee troops also raided Cornwallis’s supply lines so often that after less than a month it became quite clear that Cornwalliswas the besieged, not the besieger. He ended up surrendering his entire army, and the English King had to grant Appalachee its independence.”
    Bonaparte nodded gravely.
    “Here’s the cleverest thing,” said La Fayette. “After he surrendered, Cornwallis was brought into Franklin City and discovered that all the families had been moved out long before he arrived. That’s the thing about these Americans on the frontier. They can pick up and move anywhere. You can’t pin them down.”
    “But you can kill them,” said Bonaparte.
    “You have to catch them,” said La Fayette.
    “They have fields and farms,” said Bonaparte.
    “Well, yes, you could try to find every farm,” said La Fayette. “But when you get there, if anyone’s at home you’ll find it’s a simple farm family. Not a soldier among them. There’s no
army
. But the minute you leave, someone is shooting at you from the forest. It might be the same humble farmer, and it might not.”
    “An interesting problem,” said Bonaparte. “You never know your enemy. He never concentrates his forces.”
    “Which is why we deal with the Reds,” said Frederic. “We can’t very well go about murdering innocent farm families ourselves, can we?”
    “So you pay the Reds to kill them for you.”
    “Yes. It works rather well,” said Frederic, “and we have no plans to do anything different.”
    “
Well?
It works
well
?” said Bonaparte scornfully. “Ten years ago there weren’t five hundred American households west of the Appalachee Mountains. Now there’s ten thousand households between the Appalachees and the My-Ammy, and more moving farther west all the time.”
    La Fayette winked at Frederic. Frederic hated him when he did that. “Napoleon read our dispatches,” La Fayette said cheerfully. “Memorized our estimates of American settlements in the Red Reserve.”
    “The King wants this American intrusion into French territory stopped, and stopped at once,” said Bonaparte.
    “Oh he does?” asked La Fayette. “What an odd way he has of showing it.”
    “Odd? He sent me,” said Bonaparte. “That means he expects victory.”
    “But you’re a general,” said La Fayette. “We already have generals.”
    “Besides,” said Frederic, “you’re not in command.
I’m
in command.”
    “The Marquis has the supreme military authority here,” said Bonaparte.
    Frederic understood completely: La Fayette also had the authority to put Bonaparte in command over Frederic, if he desired. He cast an anxious look toward La Fayette, who was complacently spreading goose-liver paste on his bread. La Fayette smiled benignly. “General Bonaparte is under
your
command, Frederic. That will not change. Ever. I hope that’s clear, my dear Napoleon.”
    “Of course,” said Napoleon. “I would not dream of changing that. You should know that the King is sending more than generals to Canada. Another thousand soldiers will be here in the spring.”
    “Yes, well, I’m impressed to learn that he’s promised to send more troops again—haven’t we heard a dozen such promises before,