“Don’t you want the bards singing songs about you hundreds of years after you’re dead?” Bell asked. “Don’t you want them treating you the same way they treated the heroes of the first conquest, the men who crossed the Western Ocean and threw down the blonds’ kingdoms?”

“I couldn’t care less,” Joseph said, and shocked Bell all over again. “King Geoffrey gave me this job to do. He thought I was the right man for it, and I aim to show him he was right.” I aim to show him he was a perfect jackass for not giving me more to do a long time ago.

Roast-Beef William said, “A defensive campaign on our part will be the most expensive for the southrons and the least expensive for us. Since General Hesmucet has far more men than we do, we need every advantage we can find.”

“Where is the valor in letting the enemy dictate the terms of the campaign?” Bell asked.

“Where is the sense in attacking the enemy when you are weaker than he?” Joseph the Gamecock returned.

“We attacked the southrons at the River of Death and prevailed,” Bell said.

“Yes, and you outnumbered them when you did it, too,” Joseph pointed out. “King Geoffrey detached James of Broadpath’s force-and you with it, Lieutenant General-from Duke Edward of Arlington’s Army of Southern Parthenia and sent it here by glideway to add its weight to the fight. Without it, Count Thraxton would have been badly outnumbered, and wouldn’t have attacked.”

Slowly, Bell shook his head. “You make war most coldbloodedly, your Grace.”

“King Geoffrey says the same thing,” Joseph replied. “As you may have gathered, the king and I have a good many differing opinions. My opinion is that one makes war for the purpose of defeating the enemy by whatever means are available. If that involves wearing him out to the point where he chooses not to fight any more, so be it. I see no better hope. Do you?” He looked from Bell to Roast-Beef William.