“I also believe that women will trust a woman leader more readily than they will a man. Besides that, just about everyone else has attachments to the people that will be left in the village, and that will hamper their thinking. You have only your son here, and I think that enhances your ability to think clearly. You won’t be hampered in the way others would. The main thing a leader has to be able to do is coldly assess and evaluate their troop’s ability and the enemy’s capabilities. To see the big picture clearly and respond quickly to changes as they occur. I’m aware you have no experience at this, but I believe you have the qualities that are needed.”
Adrian continued, “Don’t worry about the battle tactics, I’ll drill you until your eyes bleed, and then when the bullets fly, you’ll react correctly. It’s not brain surgery; it’s a matter of keeping your head when the fighting starts. I think you’ll do that just fine.”
Linda took a sip of tea, her hand trembling a bit. “That’s an awful lot of believing that you’re doing on my behalf. I’m not at all sure you’re right, and if you’re not, what happens to those of us you leave behind? You’re pushing a huge amount of responsibility on me, and I have no background to determine if you’re right or wrong. If I accept, I have to blindly believe everything you’ve told me, and I’m not good at blindly believing anything. “
Adrian said, “You see? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. You’re looking at this clearly and objectively and not being persuaded merely because I’m trying to persuade you. Are you aware of how rare that is? Can you pick out a better woman leader from the available women?”
Linda looked down at her tea and thought for a long moment. “No, I can’t, but I’ve only been here a short time and don’t know the women that well.”
Sarah reached over and squeezed Linda’s hand briefly. “I know every one of them, and none of them would be as good for this as you. I would follow you without hesitation; I can’t say that about any other woman in the village.”
Adrian said, “Let’s do this. You take command, and if after a few days in the position you want to appoint someone else that you think will do a better job, I’ll back you up. You’ll get a chance to see the women in training, evaluate them from a new perspective. If you identify a better candidate, then we’ll make the change. But you have to make that decision within a week, or it’ll be too late to make the change effectively. Deal?”
Linda looked hard at Adrian. He was aware of her inner turmoil, so he waited patiently for her to sort her thoughts out. She finally said, “I have to tell you that I resent being put in this spot. I just arrived here recently and now you want to put all of this responsibility on me. I don’t like it one bit. But I also realize that it isn’t you that created this situation—it just is what it is—so if you think I am the person you need for this, then I’ll go along with it for a few days and see what happens. I am agreeing with full reservations, though.”
Adrian replied, “Understood and appreciated. I know that I have thrown you a hell of a lot in just a few minutes. Most people who have this level of responsibility in a war have had years to prepare for it. Most people would have been in a military career with years of training, would be there because that’s what they wanted for themselves. And here, I’m throwing this at you without warning, expectation, or any desire on your part for it. It’s a lot to consider. I get that, and I’m sorry to ask this of you. But I need the absolute best we have available, and in my eyes—backed up by Sarah, by the way—you are the absolute best available here. Frankly, I think you would be the absolute best in any group anywhere under similar conditions, based on how you handled the raider situation when it came upon you, and how you took your son across country and survived. I don’t see this as picking the best of a bad lot; I see this as being damn lucky someone of your caliber happens to be available. I know it’s a lot to ask, but the life of everyone that will be left behind in the village has to depend on someone, and you are heads and shoulders above anyone else here. I know many of the villagers, and have Sarah, Roman and Matt’s opinions on the ones I don’t know. I understand your reservations and accept them. I am convinced, though, that once I start training you, you’ll understand that it really is up to you, not someone else. You’ll be able to evaluate these folks in action and see for yourself. Sometimes, you just get hard stuff thrust on you because you’re the best available, and this is one of those times. I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is.”
Linda studied Adrian’s eyes for a long moment, judging whether or not he was being sincere. Ultimately, her instincts told her that he was playing it straight. She responded, “That’s quite a speech, and it’s also quite complimentary. But speeches and compliments do not change facts, and I have to look at this from a factual basis, not an emotional one. I stand by what I said: I’ll take it on with full reservations that if I find a better person for the job, then that person takes over. If after one week I cannot honestly say someone else can do it better, then I’ll continue on…if you still think I’m the best person for it after you’ve seen me in operation for a week. That’s the best I can give you right now.”
Before Adrian could reply, Sarah spoke. “Linda, I’ve raised Adrian since he was eight years old. You’ve only known me for a couple of weeks and Adrian for a couple of days. If it is of any help to you, I can promise you that he is sincere and honest. I can’t remember ever catching him in a lie, even as a little boy. Whenever he did wrong, he didn’t avoid responsibility or try to talk his way out of it. He took whatever consequences he had coming and never once tried to lie his way out. I’m well aware of how rare that is, and how you have little reason to believe it. I’m just telling you what I know for what little peace of mind you can get out of this. It’s a hard thing he’s asking you. But I’m asking you, too, and for the same reason. I know the women in this village, and I know a little about you. What I know of you makes me trust you, and I’m willing to trust you with my life, and my grandchildren’s lives. I can’t imagine any stronger way to put it than that. You’re the best we have for this.”
Linda reached across the table and squeezed Sarah’s hand. “Thank you, Sarah. Thank you very much. That means more than you know. I realize, too, that you and the entire village are placing a lot of trust in me, and that’s an honor as high as any I have ever imagined. I’ll do the best I can for a week, and then we’ll see from there. Okay?”
Sarah and Adrian simultaneously said, “Okay”
March 9, late afternoon
Roman addressed the villagers, who had all gathered in the village square at his request.
Roman stood in front of the crowd. “The reason I asked you here is to give you a vote on whether or not you want Adrian or someone else to lead us in this war against the raiders. I called him home to lead us, but I won’t be the only one following him—or following someone else we choose. Obviously, my vote is for Adrian. I’m his uncle, I raised him since he was eight years old, so I’m clearly biased.
“This is a life or death situation. When we fight, if we choose to fight, some of us will die. I think that’s a given fact. So you have an absolute right to choose who you will follow. Your very life depends on who you follow. Therefore, let me hear any nominations for a leader. Nominate yourself or someone else. If anyone has an alternative plan, please raise your hand.” There was a long silence, and no hands were raised. “Please do not be shy about this, it’s too important. Anyone with any nomination, please raise your hand.”
After another long silence, one hand was tentatively raised way in the back. “Yes?” Roman said. “Who’s your nominee?” A voice from the back said, “Adrian, of course.”
Roman said, “All right, then, let’s have a show of hands for those who are willing to follow Adrian.”
All hands went up; it was a unanimous vote. Roman said, “Then I’ll step back and let Adrian take it from here.” Roman moved back. Adrian stepped forward and began speaking.
“As you all know, there are one hundred and eighty heavily armed and savage barbarians heading for us. They are two to three weeks out. We have few options, and none of them are great. I’ll lay them out for you. Option one: we sit here hoping they go away. Option two: we fight them here if they don’t go away. Option three: we take all able-bodied men and attack them as far from here as we can, attempting to destroy them before they get here. And option four: we evacuate the village and let them have it, then re-establish somewhere else, hoping they don’t come after us again once they decide they aren’t cut out to be farmers.
“If we decide to attack them in the field, we have two choices for those who stay behind. One, they stay here and hope we win. Two, they evacuate to a place far away in case we don’t win. These decisions have to be made today, here, right now. There’s no time for delay. What I would like is for you all to take an hour to discuss it with your wives and husbands and friends. At the end of that hour, I’ll answer questions for half an hour or so. Then we’ll have a show of hands. But remember, there is one other personal option you have: you as individuals or families can choose to leave on your own. You also need to understand that if you do choose that route, I doubt you would ever be welcomed back here again by the ones who stayed and fought. So if you leave—which you are certainly free to do—it should be with the understanding that you won’t be allowed to come back here to live. If you won’t stand and fight for survival with us now, then you won’t be allowed to take protection later from those that did.”
With that, Adrian walked over to sit with Roman, Sarah, and Linda.
The buzz of talk started slowly, but built into a loud murmur. Roman and Sarah were quiet, their decision already made. Linda looked at Adrian with piercing eyes, her jaw jutting out slightly and said, “I have just one question. Are you planning on coming back alive if you don’t win?”
Adrian smiled at her, enjoying her directness. “Not a chance. If we lose, it won’t be because I gave up for any reason short of being killed. We simply cannot afford to lose. Nothing short of winning is acceptable. If we lose we’ll all die at their hands anyway, it’ll be better to go down fighting than to go down begging.”
Linda replied, “I just want to know—my son’s life is largely dependent on you and these men. I could leave right now, taking my son with me. We traveled before and it was rough, but not as rough as staying here to fight is going to be. We could make do, find another place to live.”
Adrian asked her, “Why aren’t you going, then?”
Linda replied, “Believe me, it’s tempting. But wherever we go, we’ll likely face raiders again at some point. Eventually we’ll be in this spot again, but I doubt we’ll be in a place with this many people that can fight back or with leaders that know how to fight back effectively. Our odds of winning are better here than anywhere else I’ve been, and if we win this battle against this many raiders, I doubt we’ll ever be attacked by anyone again. Our people will be battle experienced and organized and the news of this victory will spread everywhere. After this battle, if we win, this will be the safest place there is. It’s also a good place to raise Scott.”
Adrian nodded. “Good logic.” Then he sat quietly, waiting.
Adrian had more doubts than Linda did. He didn’t know the true capability of these men. They were tough; they had to be to survive. They were definitely survivors, but survival and war are elementary opposites. In war, a man is called upon to do the exact opposite of what a good survivor does. Survival mostly consists of avoiding trouble whenever possible. War requires a man to go directly and deliberately into harm’s way. These men who demonstrated strong survival instincts just by their still being alive—would they overcome that instinct and fight instead? He wouldn’t know—couldn’t know—until it was far too late to change strategy.
He didn’t know the capability of the raiders in a pitched battle, either. They had at least demonstrated a desire to kill, to face other people and deliberately kill them. Whether they had ever faced a truly tough enemy force or not, he didn’t know. Maybe they would fold at their first encounter with a determined and armed enemy, or maybe not. They had the advantage of numbers. Adrian’s men were outnumbered two to one, and by men who were vicious beyond description and would show absolutely no mercy.
Well, neither will I.
He was confident on at least that point.
One of the possibilities was that the raiders could engage the villagers in battle and then split their own forces. They could send a hundred men against the village while keeping the village men in the field fighting. He couldn’t see the shape or the outcome of the battle, whether it would go for or against them. The stakes were as high as they could possibly get; losing would mean the death or slavery of every villager. Survival was tough enough without the raiders, but it would become extremely rough and uncertain under their cruel captivity.
Adrian also had recurring doubts about his own ability to lead. He had successfully led small groups of extremely skilled and dedicated soldiers on strictly defined missions. He had led the Colorado villagers successfully against the cannibals. He had also led the original Fort Brazos inhabitants against that crazy ex-wrestler Mad Jack, but back then he had been cocky, had had no doubt of his own invincibility. What they had pulled off then had been based largely on luck and an unbelievable amount of confidence. Confidence that in hindsight he realized they didn’t own, but had borrowed. This was different, though. Before this, the largest stakes he’d had in a battle were his and his men’s lives. In the previous Fort Brazos battle, he had been blind to the possible consequences of failure. In Colorado, it was the lives of people he didn’t know. Here, the stakes were his family, his friends, and his village. Here, the stakes were everyone and everything. This was literally a do or die situation; there would be no outside help, no cavalry coming to the rescue, no one to back these men up as they fought for their existence.
Adrian didn’t know if he and his men were truly capable of pulling this off. He mulled over these doubts, knowing that the last thing he could do—or would do—would be to show his doubts. The only thing he was positive about was that if anything defeated these men and women, it would not be their leader showing doubt—they deserved better than that. If he showed doubt, it would inject fear into them that they didn’t need to deal with. That kind of fear would be debilitating, if not annihilating. They looked to him for confidence, placed their trust in his confidence. He knew that this was the biggest acting job he had ever taken on, so he would do it well. If nothing else, he would do that one thing well. That included not sitting here looking morose, he reminded himself. So Adrian sat and waited patiently, allowing no shadow of a doubt to flicker across his face as his people kept turning to look at him while they talked it out amongst themselves.