Maria

Rain hammered the roof of the customs house, rattling loose tiles and dripping onto the crowded map table where Maria Rousseau stood, pelisse hanging from one shoulder, boots soaked but posture firm. Officers from both armies pressed around her, but none spoke until she allowed it. A French general finally broke the silence. “Rousseau, your 7th Hussars cannot lead the vanguard. The risk is unacceptable.” Maria didn’t look up. “Unacceptable to whom? I said they lead.” An Austrian colonel pointed at the market road. “Debris blocks the first turn. Your regiment will stall.” Maria turned to an engineer. “Clear time?” He straightened. “With proper cover, fifteen minutes.” “Do it in nine,” she replied. A chaplain stepped forward nervously. “Madame Rousseau, the wounded wagons must remain protected. If your hussars move faster than the column—” She cut him off. “They match the pace. Surgeons stay centered. Chaplains reinforce the rear. No one outruns anyone.” A surgeon added, “The canal bridge is unstable. It could collapse if pressured.” Maria tapped the map sharply. “Reinforce it before we march. Cuirassiers guard both flanks until all wagons cross.” An Austrian general leaned closer. “And if the undead reach the Karlsring early?” “Then we adjust instantly,” Maria answered. “The column does not freeze.” A French colonel pointed at the western gate. “If the gate jams, the route is lost.” Maria finally lifted her gaze. “It won’t jam. I’ll be the first through it.” Silence followed, heavy and absolute. Maria stood straighter. “The plan is simple. Hussars open the path. Infantry clears obstacles. Engineers secure roads and bridges. Cuirassiers hold the sides. The column moves without delay. Anyone who hesitates endangers all.” No one argued further. Maria’s plan was final. The Others Officers and Generals Got Pissed, they Were Prepared to Do in their Way instead of hers, but she Was Also prepared for anything.