by Glen Cook
“You know what I represent. Change. New blood. A clean sweep of associations with Ko Feng’s ill-starred ventures.”
“Don’t forget that Lord Feng’s group brought us annexations of epic scale.”
Kuo waved one of those delicate hands. “Nevertheless... There’s Western Army. Twice defeated. Once under the Dragon Prince, again during the Pracchia gambit.” In this empire, an empire unaccustomed to defeat, even an appearance of defeat was unpardonable.
“Ko Feng could have won at Palmisano. He withdrew rather than risk losses which might have damaged the stability of the legions. He was a methodical man. He would have anticipated the cost to himself. He withdrew anyway.”
Kuo looked irritated. He took a moment to control himself. “We can’t, of course, know what would have happened had he chosen to stand. Lord Ssu-ma, I didn’t come here to argue. I don’t want to exhume our yesterdays.”
No, Shih-ka’i thought. You want to bury them deep, and with them everyone who made them. And with them all the good of them, lest someone remember and compare. “Tomorrows. Those interest us all, don’t they? Speak to me of tomorrows, Lord Kuo.”
Kuo brightened. He smiled an effeminate smile. “You mis-estimate me. I’m not here to dismiss you. I do want to rusticate you, though. To Eastern Army.”
Shih-ka’i’s stomach dropped a hundred feet. So. The purgehad burst its political bounds. “I’m not a political creature, Lord. My business is the creation of soldiers. I do that quite well.”
“I know. I did my Candidacy with the Fourth Demonstration. I’m sure you don’t remember me. You were a brigade leader at the time. But I remembered you. You impressed me.”
“Uhm?” Shih-ka’i kept his feelings concealed. He did not remember Candidate Kuo. Was the man about to requite some slight?
“Lord Ssu-ma, I want you to command Eastern Army.”
The world fell away again. “Lord! I... I’ve never held a field command.”
“You’ve directed the Fourth in field exercises. It’s been at corps strength because of our replacement demands. I think you can handle it. You’re the man I want. You have the stubbornness of Ko Feng without his limitations. You think on your feet. You get jobs done. More, you’re an older Tervola. You have no discernible political bias. You’ll fit into the gap between myself and the recidivists I rashly banished to what looked like a sessile frontier army.”
Kuo’s brief rule had bewitched Shinsan with its amazements and marvels and unpredictable decisions. Here was another of the same.
“But my background... “
“Irrelevant. Completely irrelevant. You’re Tervola. You’re trained to command. If I set you to command, none will deny me. Lord Ssu-ma, will you accept Eastern Army?”
Outwardly, Shih-ka’i remained a man of stone. Within, he flailed about, trying to grasp something, anything, that would give him a grip on a turbulent reality. Command of an army! Even of the diminutive Eastern Army... It was an honor he never had dared hope to attain.
“When?”
“Right away. I need you out there.”
“What’s happened?”
“No one is quite sure. For lack of anything better to do, they’re exploring the desert that stopped their advance. Patrols have vanished. They’ll fill you in when you get there. Will you accept the command?”
“Lord... Yes. I will.”
“Good.” Kuo smiled. “I thought you would.” He produced a small scarlet badge that resembled the face of a man with a beak instead of a nose. The badge of an army commander. There were just a handful in existence. It topic the convocation of the entire Council of Tervola, with mighty sorceries, to create one. Shih-ka’i accepted it humbly, wondering who had worn it before him. He would have to learn its history and honors.
“You should start east with whatever staff you need as soon as I find someone to replace you here. Your army will consist of the five legions currently posted. I had planned to withdraw two before the disappearances began. Northern Army will be available in reserve, though I’m reducing it to corps strength.” Kuo went on to explain that he was stripping all the armies in favor of the southern frontier.
“But... we have twenty-six legions there already.”
“The Matayangan situation is worsening. They’re trying to lure us into giving provocation for a pre-emptive strike. They want to hit us while the legions are still under strength. We’ll give them a surprise if they do.”
Shih-ka’i nodded. Shinsan had expanded too fast recently. Civil and foreign wars had drained the legions. The army was strained, trying to hold the present frontiers. Losses denied it manpower usually devoted to assimilation and re-education of conquered peoples. The empire had become a fragile structure. “What about the west?” The Tervola feared the west more than the numerically stronger south.
“I’ve told Hsung to normalize. To avoid confrontation. To shift his emphasis from the military to the political. They’re vulnerable in their disunity. Intrigue should be his weapon of choice. It could be decades before we avenge our dead. We have to digest what we’ve taken.”
Lord Kuo impressed Shih-ka’i now. His inflammatory demagoguery had been, apparently, a device to push Ko Feng aside. Today he was talking a more realistic response to the empire’s problems. Maybe he could reverse the trend toward chaos that had set in with the deaths of the Princes Thaumaturge.
Their swift parade of successors had shattered stability by warring among themselves while launching unwise foreign adventures.
“I’ll be pleased to command Eastern Army. I’m honored that you think me competent. I’ll begin selecting staff today.”
A faint irritation flickered across Kuo’s face. He was being dismissed-he. Then he smiled. Ssu-ma could not shake old habit. Younger men were trainees... He rose. “I wish you luck, Lord Ssu-ma.”
“Thank you.” Shih-ka’i wasn’t really listening. He was engrossed in his work once more.
He had to hide in the training reports for a while. This stroke of fortune would take some digesting.
Shih-ka’i found that he had to guard thirty-four hundred miles of border with thirty thousand men. The eastern legions were, at least, at strength. None had been involved in the ill-starred western campaign.
He also had to govern and keep the peace in the military frontier zone.
His predecessor had done the obvious and employed local auxiliaries. They weren’t much. The peoples of Shih-ka’i’s new proconsulate were all savages. Only a few tribes had a Bronze Age level of technology, though storytellers spoke of a past age of greatness. They had revealed a few ruins in support of their claims.
Shih-ka’i followed the lead of his predecessors and made his headquarters with the Seventeenth Legion. The Seventeenth’s zone of responsibility faced the questionable desert. The legion had taken all the reported losses.
The Seventeenth had raised a stout new fortress just miles from the edge of the badlands. Shih-ka’i arrived to find the commander engaged in a vigorous program of exploration. One wall of the fortress’s main hall had been plastered smooth. Legionnaires were painting in a huge map, bit by bit, as exploratory teams contributed details. Shih-ka’i did not bother visiting his new quarters before going into conference.
He strolled along the one-hundred-fifty-foot length of the wall, studying and memorizing each detail. At one point he asked, “Does it truly begin this suddenly?” He indicated a line near the floor, where green gave way to brown along a well-defined line.
The commander of the Seventeenth, Lun-yu Tasi-feng, replied, “Virtually, Lord Ssu-ma. It fades from forest to grassland to dust and sand within a mile. Were the wind not blowing consistently eastward, the desert would crawl this way like an unstoppable army.”
“Rainfall?”
“Considerable, Lord. Both here and there. In the desert you can watch the clouds pile up against these mountains, but nothing grows.”
“Uh-hmm.” Shih-ka’i studied the sketchy outline of the mountain chain. “Ri
vers?”
“Several flow out. The only life we’ve found is a few fish that have swum upstream. They don’t travel far. They find nothing to sustain themselves.”
Shih-ka’i let his gaze wander. In time, he asked, “Elements of the Seventeenth were involved in the war with Escalon, were they not?”
Tasi-feng replied, “I was there myself, Lord.”
“Does this compare to the desolation created there?”
“It’s even more thorough, Lord. The thought occurred to me too. I’m operating on the assumption that the land was smitten by the Power, though we’ve yet to find certain proof.”
“Historical research?”
“Nothing on record anywhere, Lord.”
“It’s very old, then. What about oral traditions among the tribes? I’ve heard there are ruins in the forests. Have you tried to determine their age?”
“The tribes say there was a war among the gods. The ruins are at least a thousand years old. Probably a lot older. I have my leading necromancer working in the best preserved city. He hasn’t been able to determine more.”
“Have you consulted Outside?”
“Demons either don’t know or won’t tell.”
“I see. How many men have you lost?”
Shih-ka’i listened to an exact recitation of every detail known about a dozen group disappearances. Tasi-feng indicated their last known positions on the map. Each party had reached the mountains. No other pattern was apparent.
“Have you tried high altitude search?”
“Birds refuse to fly over the desert, Lord. I wanted to send a dragon, but my request was refused. Too many perished in the western campaign, they say. They say they need to breed their numbers up. Personally, I think they’re as frightened as the birds.”
“Oh? Have they been interrogated? Some would be older than those ruins.”
“If they know anything, they’re not saying. They’re less talkative than the demons.”
“Curious. Most curious. Lord Lun-yu, I commend you. You’ve been thorough.”
“There’s little else to do out here, Lord. The centurions complain that it’s just makework.”
Shih-ka’i smiled behind his mask. “They would. I’m curious. Lord Kuo seemed to think this a critical puzzle. He was quite concerned. Could you guess why?”
“I’m not certain, Lord. Perhaps because there have been flickers of the Power beyond the mountains.” He raked a pointer along the top of the wall, over a distance of twenty feet. “They emanated from somewhere here.”
Shih-ka’i’s gaze bored into the map. In time, he asked, “What’s the quality of the water in those rivers? Fit to drink?”
“Heavy with minerals, as you might expect. But potable, Lord.” Tasi-feng seemed puzzled by the question.
“So. We begin narrowing the scope, Lord Lun-yu. The lost missions face the area you just indicated. Accept it as a pattern. We’ll send expeditions immediately, on parallel tracks. A Tervola will accompany each. At evening camp a transfer portal will be opened.” He took the pointer. “When the expeditions reach this line, we’ll set up movable transfers. Five centuries will remain battle-ready at all times. They should be prepared to transfer at a moment’s notice. Hourly reports will be returned, and news of any anomaly immediately. The parties will travel light. Weapons and equipment only. They’ll be supplied through the transfers. They’ll continue their advance till we have some answers. We’ll keep fresh people out there by rotating through the portals.”
“Lord, that ambitious a program will require the support of the entire legion.”
“You yourself said there’s nothing else to do. And Lord Kuo expressed a more than passing interest in obtaining answers.”
“Of course, Lord.”
“Is there anything else I should know?”
“No, Lord. That’s all... There have been two reports of dragon sightings, Lord. From natives. There was no confirmation. The dragons themselves deny making overflights.”
“I see. I commend you again, Lord Lun-yu. You’ve been as thorough as anyone could ask.”
Shih-ka’i retired to his quarters. His batman had everything prepared. He allowed the decurion to remove his mask. “Are you tired, Pan ku?”
“Not if my Lord has a task for me.”
“It’s nothing immediate. When you have the free time. Mix with the legionnaires. See what they’re saying. Find out what they’re talking about most.”
“As you wish, My Lord.”
“I’ll rest now.” Shih-ka’i stretched himself on his new bed. He did not sleep, though he closed his eyes. He felt a presence in the east. It was something strange. Something alien. It was not tangible, yet it was disquieting. He wondered if Lord Kuo had felt it too.
The exploratory parties had advanced seventy miles into the desert. They were past the last known positions of the lost parties. Of those the only evidence so far found was a single cracked piece of lacquer off the elbow joint of a soldier’s armor.
“That’s suggestive,” Shih-ka’i said. “They wouldn’t travel in armor. Too hot out there. Search the area more carefully.”
The search turned up nothing. This party had vanished six months ago. Nature had obliterated all trace of their passing.
Two days later one party reported having reached the crest of a mountain. The range dropped away beyond. Shih-ka’i donned his battle gear and transferred there himself.
The slope fell away in a long grey slide. In the distance the grey became rust. For as far as he could see nothing stirred. Nothing lived. The sheer magnitude of the desolation overpowered him.
Another party crested the range a few miles to the south. Its Tervola sent a signal. Shih-ka’i responded. He told the commander of the party he was with, “Remain here. Watch them as they descend.” He returned to the legion’s headquarters.
The fortress was in turmoil. Tasi-feng explained, “Yan-chu is under attack. He requested reinforcements. I sent him a century.”
“Take prisoners. Return them immediately. Bring another century to the ready.”
Fifteen minutes later two prisoners came through the transfer portal. They were short men in strange armor. They were dead.
“I want them alive,” Shih-ka’i said.
Tasi-feng conferred with the Tervola on the scene. “Lord Ssu-ma, Yan-chu says they were alive when they transferred. They had to be driven into the portal.”
“Tell him to send more.”
Two more pairs came through. They were as dead as the first. Of the last pair one was a tall, dark man whose armor did not resemble that of the others.
“Have them examined,” Shih-ka’i said. He strode back to the map room. Another party had reported itself under attack. He wanted to confirm his memory of their positions. “Uhm,” he murmured. “Come, whoever you are. Hit me one more time.”
He got his wish within the hour. Two minutes later he had strings attached to the points where each attack was taking place, stretching toward the top of the map. Soldiers were shading areas where the three would cross. The launching of additional attacks allowed Shih-ka’i to begin reducing the size of the shaded area.
“Keep it up,” he murmured. “I’ll have you pinpointed.” He glanced at the log of the times the attacks had been reported. Might the attackers have departed the same point at the same time? Their dispersion and lack of coordination suggested that might be the case. “Lord Lun-yu. Let Yang-chu’s position be a point on a circle. Let the other attacked positions be points outside that circle. See if you can describe the circle using the lag in the times of attack.”
Lord Lun-yu looked puzzled for a moment, caught on, went to work. He received data from two more assaults. He developed a crude, skewed arc. “It doesn’t look right, Lord.”
“Guess me a maximum and minimum radius. The terrain they crossed should account for the irregularities.” He peered at the map. Neither of his methods was working well. The first, in fact, now looked a little foolish. He had, in effect, coll
ected a lot of lone legs of triangles. He did not know any lengths or angles.
The scope of search did seem to be narrowing. He accepted a casualty report from a messenger. “Hmm?”
“Lord?” Tasi-feng inquired.
“These people are reasonably good fighters.” Another runner reported that the force attacking Yang-chu had withdrawn. Soon similar reports arrived from the bther attacked parties. Shih-ka’i observed, “Their communications are fair.”
Tasi-feng asked, “Shall we pursue, Lord?”
Shih-ka’i glanced at the map. “Slowly.” He indicated two parties which had not been attacked. “Move these people to pincer the group dropping off here. We’ll take more prisoners. Tell Yang-chu to hold his position. I want to see what he’s got.”
Yang-chu’s group had received the most attention. The slope below his perimeter was littered with bodies. “They took some of their fallen with them,” the Tervola told Shih-ka’i. “As many as they could carry.”
Shih-ka’i looked across the desert. Among the dust devils he could see a cloud raised by the retreating enemy. “Any wizardry used?”
“Neither by us nor them, Lord.”
“Good.” He watched the dust. Where could they have come from? How could people exist in this? He glanced at the bodies, quickly averted his gaze. He was not accustomed to seeing the aftermath of battles.
The corpses were of men who had been well-fed, well-clad, and well-armed. “Yang-chu.” He indicated the dead. “Collect them. Strip them. Keep each man’s things separate. Send the bundles through to the fortress.” He summoned his will, looked into a few lifeless faces. They told him very little. All dead men had the same message for the living. It was a message Lord Ssu-ma did not want to hear. They were a curious breed. Both kinds. Shih-ka’i had never seen their like before. But how were they so different? He shrugged. The legion’s surgeons would dissect them and let him know.
He took a last look at the dust cloud. It was moving straight out the line he had drawn on the map. He returned to the fortress.