Though not thick, the officer's accent was clearly Plydyrii. Several times on his journey, Ghorn had overhead people commenting on the newly cosmopolitan nature of the Imperial armies.
Ghorn smiled in return. "No, I will not need to return."
"He's off to make a sailor," Qdyre supplied.
"The Imperial Marines are recruiting," Pyn mentioned with considerable enthusiasm. "A skyship is a much better berth than a galley. I sailed on a fishing scow out of Zhijj for two years and I promise you that you won't regret taking to the air."
Ghorn smiled again and repeated the pretext that he had given to Qdyre. The fact that both Qdyre and Pyn had urged service to the Empire could only mean that both expected the war against the Brotherhood of Phaelle to heat up soon.
Pyn was not as easily put off, however. "You could still sign on with a trading skyship. That would be just the right place for a man with your convictions. In my opinion, wet sailing will be all but gone in a few years. Seaborne ships just won't be able to compete. There's a big cargo skyship that just lifted off the blocks at Mhajhkaei and it has started taking on crew. Her captain is an acquaintance of my father's and if you like I can have a word with him."
"Well, actually, I had intended to work my passage down to Gh'emhoa. I've family there that I haven't seen in a number of years."
"This must be your lucky day. The first voyage of the Empress Telriy will be a run down the western skirt of the Archipelago all the way to Lhorvhavhen on the coast of Szillarn."
TEN
17th Year of the Phaelle’n Ascension, 325th Day of Glorious Work
Year One of the New Age of Magic
(Firstday, Waxing, 3rd Springmoon, 1645 After the Founding of the Empire)
Plythtwaelndt Fortress, north of Mhevyr
"Plydyre is in open revolt," Bhrucherra announced as he entered the command room from the alcove where the far talking disk operators were stationed. "In a single day, the Apostate's saboteurs and Plydyrii mobs have taken effective control of three-quarters of the island. Only the northern area around the city of Bhaestryndt remains in our possession. Many of the local administrative brethren have been cut off and must be assumed to have been killed."
The large chamber that now served as Director of Forces Whorlyr's center of operations had once been the lavish quarters of the Mhevyrii nobleman that had been in command of the Plythtwaelndt Fortress. The nobleman had fallen upon his own sword after the sack of Mhevyr, but his fine furnishings, including the large, exquisite table now used to display maps of the continent, remained.
Sitting in one of the matching chairs at the table, Traeleon shifted his gaze to consider the First Inquisitor. His deputy seemed unmoved by the news.
"You still feel that we should order complete withdrawal?"
"Yes, brother."
Newly anointed as Governor of the Colleges of the Brotherhood of Phaelle and thus second only to Traeleon himself, Bhrucherra obviously saw no need for a repetition of his often presented arguments for that very course.
"We continue to have insufficient Salients to fully crew all the platforms," Director of Forces Whorlyr contributed. "If the priority of the Emerald Gate were reassigned, we could evacuate all of our remaining brethren from Plydyre in a matter of hours. The conscript troops could be left to their own devices. Many of them will desert in any event."
"Loss of Plydyre will mean tacit cession of the southwest quadrant of Bronze to the Apostate's control," Traeleon suggested. "Our seaborne supply and communication routes to the smaller islands and Communities will be compromised and it will be difficult to reinforce them should they come under attack."
"Any military action that the Apostate and his Mhajhkaeirii undertake in that area will be of limited scope," Bhrucherra stated. "Whalgheir, Droahmaer, and Trozae remain strongly defended. None of the smaller islands possess any strategic importance and their capture will not produce any tangible advantage. Even should the Apostate commence an offensive, he will have to abandon it when we move west."
As always, Bhrucherra's logic was unassailable. Nonetheless, Traeleon found another retreat unpalatable.
"This will also cause damage to the esteem of the Brotherhood."
"It will also serve as a distraction to the Apostate," Whorlyr suggested. "If he is looking to Plydyre, the surprise of our attack will be all the greater. None will recall our setbacks in Mhajhkaei and Plydyre once we control the entire continent."
"Our strategy must be one of focus," Bhrucherra emphasized, "not of dissolution."
"Very well," Traeleon acceded, overcoming his reluctance. "Director Whorlyr, give the necessary orders and reassign the recovered brethren as you see fit. However, once the mainland is secured, Plydyre will be retaken, even if it is necessary to depopulate the island to do so."
"As you say, Preeminence."
Traeleon stood up, automatically checking the bolt thrower in his pocket and noting that Bhrucherra mirrored his caution. While within the fortress, Traeleon dispensed with personal guards, but no matter where they were he and the First Inquisitor were never without the relics. As a matter of routine, Traeleon never relaxed his guard. Though Bhrucherra had swiftly and efficiently purged all who had had even the slightest hint of association with the conspiracy that had slaughtered the Firsts of the Full Conclave, Traeleon trusted none of the brethren that he had placed in positions of authority within the new governing structure of the Brotherhood.
"I find no fault with your strategy for the campaign," he told Whorlyr. "You may begin to take the necessary steps to implement it. My expectation is that you will adapt your tactics as battlefield conditions necessitate. We will continue with the inspection now."
Having taken care to limit damage to it during the seizure of Mhevyr, the Brotherhood had made the Plythtwaelndt Fortress just north of the defeated city fully its own. As the Archdeacon and the two other senior brethren left the command room and made their way to the stairs to the underground levels, they passed only members of the diligently working fraternity in the long corridors and reinforced chambers. In order to eliminate any possibility of espionage, none of the subjugated peoples were allowed entrance to the extensive stronghold, with servants and other menials explicitly banned by Holy Writ.
Sited on a prominent hilltop and originally an outpost of the long faded Empire of the North, the fortress had been expanded and strengthened for centuries so that now its multitude of bastions and curtain walls enclosed an area almost two thousand armlengths square. Beneath it, a warren of tunnels of an almost equal area had been excavated in the bedrock, and it was here that the new manufactories had been established.
Abbot Pzieilng and his assistants awaited the Archdeacon at the foot of the narrow main stairway. The scholar fell in beside Traeleon while the other brethren queued behind the trailing Bhrucherra and Whorlyr.
"Any production problems today, Brother Pzieilng?" Traeleon asked as he walked down the aisle of the first section, observing the familiar process with a nevertheless close attention to detail.
Continuous tables that had been built in place ran from one end of the arched chamber to the other. On these the copies of the Algaraemyr Device were being created beneath hooded, pinpoint lamps that were the only illumination. The semi-darkness aided the workers to maintain concentration.
The teams of high Ability brethren that sat behind the tables, scrounged from every monastery and community of the Brotherhood, were totally focused on the segment of the spell that they must append and did not look up or stir as the Archdeacon's group moved along. The heated iron blanks were passed rapidly from station to station by standing proctors utilizing insulated tongs. Timing was critical and large spring-wound clocks were mounted at intervals on the wall behind the workers to maintain the speed of the line. Any delay in the precise schedule would allow the blanks to cool overmuch and thereby cause the reassembled modulation to fail. While usually this was of little consequence save for the lost effort, once one of the almost compl
ete devices had erupted into a blast of flame, killing three and seriously wounding a dozen.
"None, Preeminence. We are on schedule to complete the final batch in two days."
"Excellent. Has any further progress been made with the segmented definition of the bolt thrower?"
Pzieilng's face broke into a broad smile. "Indeed! Yesterday we completed the fourth major aggregation. The breakthrough was achieved by the team from Amblehc."
Traeleon made the sign of the Tripartite. "They do great service to the Work. Does this change the estimate on the completion date?"
"Yes, Preeminence. We now calculate that we shall have deciphered the entire modulation within another two to three days. "
"The practical experiments continue apace?"
Pzieilng nodded. "We should be able to switch to bolt thrower production as soon as we have the full modulation sequence."
Traeleon swung around to face Whorlyr. "Director of Forces, the status on your training regimens?"
"Complete, Preeminence," the Director of Forces answered with confidence. "We will be able to arm the platform teams immediately when the weapons are available. All of the platform drovers have been certified as proficient and at least one member of each team has trained to an adequate level as a drover."
"Very good. Let us continue," Traeleon ordered. "We have much to see today."
Traeleon went through every section of the complex, including the side tunnels where the iron blanks for the devices were manufactured, the commissary, and the bunkrooms. He made sure to spare time to stop on occasion to chat with the laboring brethren and to scatter the occasional praising benediction. A good many of these lower ranking laborers had great faith in the Restoration and such empty solemnities encouraged their diligence.
In the main gallery, Brother Szint'sl, an energetic young Preceptor, left the brethren working at a set of drafting tables and joined the Archdeacon's group. Szint'sl had invented the original concept of the sequential assemblage operation that took the platforms, towed on frames supported by casters, from raw stacks of lumber and rolled steel to the finished three armlength wide by six armlength long armored vehicles that exited under their own power up the ramp at the distant terminus. His exceptional skill and ingenuity had taken Traeleon's original concept of a shielded, Algaraemyr Device levitated wagon and translated it into the beetle-like, steel-sheathed firing platforms.
"Preeminence, the new design is finished!" Szint'sl exulted immediately.
Traeleon smiled. Szint'sl's blazing intellect sometimes leapfrogged mundane considerations such as an entire prefacing conversation. "And what new design would that be?"
"Oh, I beg your pardon, Preeminence. A few days ago, Brother Whorlyr and I were discussing logistics and it occurred to me that the pace at which a battlefront driven by platforms will advance will far exceed the ability of normal horse drawn transport. As I'm sure you understand, the speed of wagons is inherently limited by a number of physical factors, including the fact that horses must stop to rest, to be groomed, to be fed and watered, and so forth. While a minor amount of rations and water can be loaded onto the platforms, the available extra space limits these provisions to a quantity that would permit only three to four days of operation. Clearly, given the inherent speed differential, it would be inevitable that the platforms will outrun our ability to supply them, thereby negating their prime battle advantage of unrestrained mobility. This led me to the obvious solution."
"Platforms adapted for cartage?"
"Yes! The new design can be produced with only a few modifications to our existing process. The supply platforms, which I have chosen to call cargo carriers, will be twice as long and be one-third taller than the standard battle platform. To reduce construction time and conserve steel, only the drover compartment will be armored. The majority of a cargo carrier's length will be a canvas covered hold. Rather than follow after the advance, these will keep pace with their assigned droves and only return to our supply bases when empty. As long as we maintain strict monitoring of our supply requirements, the droves of Algaraemyr platforms should never be restrained by anything other than enemy resistance."
Traeleon looked at Bhrucherra and Whorlyr. "I am of a mind to approve the production of these cargo carriers."
"The philosophy of our new method of warfare requires such innovations," the First Inquisitor declared. "Eventually, brother, we must discard the horse entirely."
"I entirely agree with the Dean, Preeminence," Whorlyr said. "Mobility is the key to the Algaraemyr platforms success. On the move, they will be difficult to target. If forced to bivouac for lack of supply, then they will be much more vulnerable to aerial attack."
Bombardment by the flying boats of the Apostate was the single greatest expected danger to the platforms. Thus far, no means to eliminate that vulnerability had been found.
"The massed Shrikes will clear the skies of their clumsy craft," Bhrucherra said.
Whorlyr frowned. "The Apostate's flagship remains a danger, especially now that he has developed the capability to destroy a Shrike with a single blow."
"The Apostate will be otherwise occupied when we begin our campaign," Bhrucherra countered. "By the time he can come to the aid of his army, we will have already destroyed it."
The Director of Forces bowed his head in acquiescence. It was, after all, his plan that would guide the Brotherhood's offensive.
Traeleon made an affirmative gesture at Preceptor Szint'sl. "The new design is approved. Coordinate with Brother Whorlyr to determine required numbers. As we continue, indicate where and how modifications will have to be made in the process line."
When the group reached far end, Traeleon stopped to observe as a senior preceptor leaned in through the forward side hatch and applied an Algaraemyr Device to a completed platform. After stepping back, the preceptor made the activating gestures, causing the vehicle to immediately rise a span above its temporary carriage. Obeying quick commands in the ancient tongue, the platform then slid slowly forward to stop unsupported above the brick floor.
Indicating that Abbot Pzieilng and Preceptor Szint'sl and the slew of assistants should wait, Traeleon walked closer and examined the familiar interior. With firing loops all the way around, the curved, armored shell fully enclosed the team compartment. At the arbitrary forward end, a wide viewing slit sat at eye level in front of the pivoting drover's seat. Behind that were three benches upon which the firing team members would sit. Various sized mounting brackets, all currently empty, were spaced at regular intervals around the interior wooden framing. A round, hinged hatch, dogged closed, pierced the center of the roof above an elevated section of the floor. The opposite side and rear also had access hatches.
"Brother Whorlyr, you have qualified as a drover?"
"As you say, Preeminence."
"We will use this one for the remainder of the inspection. Brother Pzieilng, it will not be necessary that you and the others accompany us any further."
Traeleon climbed through, went to the roof hatch, opened the latching clamps to let the spring restrained steel circle wind down out of the way, and then stepped up into the opening, extending his shoulders above the roof. This gave him an unobstructed view all around the platform.
Bhrucherra and Whorlyr boarded, the latter going straightaway to the drover's seat while the First Inquisitor closed the access hatch behind them.
"Ready, Preeminence?" Whorlyr asked.
"Proceed."
The Archdeacon braced his hands against the lip of the hatch as the platform moved smoothly forward and began to climb the steep slope of the ramp to the surface.
"Brother Bhrucherra, grips should be mounted here so that the team leader can continuously observe while the platform is in motion. The view out the firing loops will be too obstructed to observe all threats. I can envision a scenario in which bold armsmen on foot could gain the roof of a platform from the rear and create havoc."
"Noted, brother."
Traeleon swun
g his head about as the vehicle emerged into the open at the center of the fortress' main courtyard. Rank upon rank of completed platforms were grouped in precise lines, completely filling the space. By default, Whorlyr continued through a large open gatehouse into the adjacent courtyard. It was also completely filled. Altogether, over one thousand platforms had already been completed.
"Director of Forces, make the necessary preparations for an expedition to reduce Yhmghaegnor," Traeleon ordered. "I would like to test our tactics against a smaller foe before we begin our campaign to retake Mhajhkaei."
"As you say, Preeminence."
ELEVEN
Mar's regally dimensioned dayroom in the South Tower, like the majority of the rooms in the Palace, had been scrubbed to remove the soot of the Brotherhood's arson and had had the most egregious damage to the tile floor and stone walls repaired, but the tapestries, statuary, and fine furniture that had decorated it prior to the Phaelle'n retreat had not yet been replaced. Someone had come up with a large, frayed rug showing a green field and leaping white hounds and Mhiskva had had a dozen unmatched chairs, now shoved back against the walls, brought in for meetings, but otherwise the room was unencumbered. The simple chamber suited Mar well -- he had found that he had no taste at all for the opulence that the wealth of an Empire could potentially purchase -- and when he was not called upon to sit at court he spent his time here. Adjacent to the dayroom was a spacious but equally austere bedroom, but he almost never used it, preferring his cabin aboard Number One.
He considered the maps pieced together on the large table that he had caused to be brought in. Though many sections lacked more than token detail, the rough-bordered two armlength square composition displayed the entire island of Plydyre and its immediate surroundings.
"How many skyships do we have available to move Knight-Commander Dhrasnoaeghs' corps?"
Maidsear Berhl consulted his notes. "Excluding Number One, there are eleven magician piloted skyships that should be close enough to Mhajhkaei to be caught by courier boats and diverted from their current routes. Allowing for the proven maximum speed of their magician-pilots, all of these can reach the city within twelve hours. That will give us enough capacity to move the entire corps in a little over two trips."
Warrior (The Key to Magic) Page 7