1636: The Saxon Uprising: NA by Eric Flint

Author:Eric Flint [Flint, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781439134252
Publisher: Baen Books
Published: 2011-04-05T05:09:55+00:00

Chapter 25

Dresden, capital of Saxony

Jozef Wojtowicz had never worked so hard in his life. Thankfully, he’d been blessed with a naturally strong and sturdy frame, so he was able to bear up under the heavy labor long enough to start getting in better condition. But all that really meant was that he was burdened with still more work.

The city’s defenders maintained and even strengthened the fortifications, despite the relentless Swedish bombardment.

That was no doubt how the future history books would depict the situation he found himself involved in. His thoughts on the matter were dark, dark, dark. In the pantheon of liars, he ranked historians second only to outright swindlers—without the excuse of honest greed as a motivation.

Here was the truth behind those innocuous-sounding words, he’d come to discover.

Truth One. In a siege, able-bodied men fall into two categories—and the definition of “able-bodied” is loose to begin with. There are soldiers, who stand guard on the ramparts vigilantly watching for any sign of enemy action. That is to say, do nothing more strenuous than rub their hands to ward off the chill. And there are civilians, whom said soldiers dragoon into doing all of the work.

Truth Two. The work involved in “maintaining and even strengthening the fortifications” consists of nine parts staggering under the weight of rocks and other rubble, and one part staggering under the weight of water casks needed to keep said able-bodied civilians from collapsing while carrying out the other nine parts of the labor.

Truth Three. Rocks come in only two sizes. Too big to carry without great strain, or, if they are on the smallish side, too many to carry without great strain.

Truth four. Shovels were invented by Moloch.

Truth five. Picks were invented by Ba’alzebub.

Truth six. Wheelbarrows were invented by Belial.

Truth seven. The notion that there would someday be an end to toil and suffering was invented by Satan himself.

Truth eight. Beware of Polish compatriots—

“Hey, Joe!”

Wojtowicz was jolted out of his gloomy mental recitation of the Great Truths. Carefully, so as not to lose his balance under the weight of the basket of stones he was carrying, he turned to see who had shouted at him.

Ted Szklenski, as he’d thought. “What is it?”

Szklenski hooked a thumb over his shoulder. “They want to see you in the castle.” The huge form of the Rezidenzschloss loomed behind him.

Jozef frowned. He did not like the sound of this. So far, he’d managed to remain reasonably inconspicuous—in large part, by staying away from the Rezidenzschloss, which was the center of CoC activity and held their headquarters.

On the positive side, he had a legitimate excuse to put down the basket.

That took a few seconds, and would have taken longer if Szklenski hadn’t lent him a hand.

“Who wants to see me?”

Szklenski shrugged. “Got no idea. I’m just passing along the message from Waclaw.”

Waclaw—his last name had turned out to be Walczak—was the leader of the Polish CoC contingent in Dresden, insofar as the term “leader” could be applied to the group at all.

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