The Shadows of God by J. Gregory Keyes

guessed. He turned to MacKay. “Go. Tell Captain Parmenter to cross the river by the hour before dawn and join us at my house. I’ll have it back, I think.”
    “We took most in their beds, sir,” Captain Parmenter told Oglethorpe a few hours later. “Van der Mann was wounded, but he’ll live. Otherwise, no casualties.”
    “Good. And who did we catch napping in my bed?”
    “I think you’ll like this, sir.”
    “Will I?” Yes, sir.
    Oglethorpe followed him into the house. It was a two-story building, not logs, by damn, but good split timbers over a stone foundation. It would never compare with his family’s estates in England, but then those were destroyed, and this still stood, and he had built it from nothing. There was something good in that.
    “Sir!”
    He turned at the familiar voice and saw Joseph, his valet.
    “Good God, man, are you well?” Oglethorpe asked.

    THE SHADOWS OF GOD
    “Well enough, sir, now that you’ve returned.”
    “You remained here? I expected you should have fled.”
    The old black man shrugged. “Where to, sir?”
    “Well, I’m glad you stayed. And I’m glad you’re well. Do you have any complaints I should take up with our guest?”
    “Not so much for me, sir, but the women had some rough treatment.”
    “I’m aware of that. Did this general, whoever he is, take part in that obscene business?”
    “No, sir. I don’t think he knew.”
    “We will sort out who did what—and who knew what. You will help me with that, Joseph?”
    “Quite right, sir.”
    “Good. Well —show me to my guest, will you?”
    “With pleasure, sir.”
    He followed Joseph to the library, where the leader of the occupying force awaited. When Oglethorpe saw who it was, he uttered a sharp laugh.
    “Well, I’ll be damned. Bobbing John.”
    The ruddy-faced old man in the armchair blushed a darker shade of crimson.
    “Young Oglethorpe,” the Earl of Mar muttered.
    “Not so young anymore, my good Mar, but I’m flattered that you place me.”
    “You disgust me. You’re a traitor to the cause and a warrior without . honor.
    You studied with Eugene of Savoy, man! How is it you conduct _ yourself this way, attacking a gentleman in his headquarters, in the wee hours of dawn. It THE SHADOWS OF GOD
    isn’t right!”
    Oglethorpe grinned coldly. “My lord, this is my home you are squatting in.
    Those are my friends and servants your men have been abusing and raping.
    This is my country you and your hellbom allies have invaded, and I will conduct the defense of it any damn way I please. And you, sir, will be damned lucky if I don’t let my Indian friends practice their tortures on you.”
    “You wouldn’t dare!”
    “Sir, you should not try me there.” He cocked his head. “By any chance, is the siege of Montgomery your command?”
    “Of course it is.”
    “Well, that’s grand, very grand.” He looked up at Joseph. “Did he leave me any brandy?”
    “I hid the best bottle, sir.”
    “Bring it here, if you don’t mind, and pour yourself a dram.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    “What do you intend to do with me?” the Earl of Mar asked.
    Oglethorpe didn’t answer until the brandy was in his hand and he had taken a sip. “I’m usually a temperate man, you know,” he said. “I had some unfortunate occasions in my youth involving this stuff. Just now, however, I need to steady myself for what may soon come.”
    “What, sir? What do you mean?”
    Mar’s bluster was nearly gone, leaving only a shrunken, pitiful old man. Why in heaven’s name had James kept this fool as a general?
    Oglethorpe set his drink down. “Sir, how you are treated very depends much upon you. If you give me the details of your campaign against Nairne—true THE SHADOWS OF GOD
    and accurate details, including the number and placement of all your diabolic engines —and if you tell me everything else you know concerning the Pretender’s troops, designs, and intentions, then I will treat you as a gentleman. But if you vex