On the other hand, the river chain was installed, new walls now guarded the riverbank where it passed the military sector and the eastern quadrant of the city, and the militia training was actually a little ahead of schedule. Production of her new weapons was brisk, inventories accumulating for everything except the mortar rounds.
When not actively haranguing one of the guilds, she was able to spend some time giving the Talamae background about Regnum culture, politics, economics and trade policies. Lord Tsano, Scribemaster Taiwi, Guildmaster Delima, and Slaetra (who turned out to have not only taught the present King but to have served a term as ruler herself), made up an ad hoc committee formed to negotiate with the Regnum when they arrived. If they arrived…
Kirrah’s own cultural education continued. Several conversations with Peetha gave no clue how to discourage the Wrth. Any negotiation based on ‘the Regnum is coming’ would very likely be interpreted as feeble attempts by weak prey to trick the mighty Wrth out of fulfilling their manifest destiny. Especially when she could not deliver gods from the sky on any specific date.
At the end of the second day, Wai’thago sent for Kirrah. She arrived with Irshe, Akaray perched in the saddle behind the tall Sergeant. After a brief exchange of greetings, the big hirsute blacksmith led them down to the riverbank. Is the steam turbine already in the boat? Kirrah wondered. I didn’t think the boat would be ready for another six or seven days. They rounded a small shed near the riverbank and found three of the new mortar tubes aimed out into the river and primed for firing. Wai’thago’s face split in a huge smile and he bent to the base of one of the tubes, where he pulled back a small lever.
“Wai’thago!” Kirrah called, “This is not safe! You should test from farther away! The last time we tried this, it exploded in the tube!”
“Warmaster, we have found a solution! Stand back if you wish!” She walked back a dozen meters and sent Irshe off another dozen with Akaray, then raised her suit’s helmet and signaled ‘Go.’
The blacksmith, looking as proud as a new father, let the lever drop. A large flash and boom accompanied a billow of smoke. He stepped to the next tube, and repeated the show. And the third.
Well, thought Kirrah, he’s still standing… were those live rounds? Seconds later, well across the river three large detonations punctuated the large man’s success.
“Congratulations, Wai’thago! How did you do it?” she asked. Accurate, too - those all hit within a five-meter circle, I bet. And that firing lever looks like it could evolve into a flintlock, with just a few hints…
“We adapted the flint-and-wire igniter from your grenade arrows, Warmaster. But to make the load safe to carry and throw, we use a bit of thread to secure the moving flint to the base. When it is thrown, the flash from the starpowder burns away the thread, and the flint is free to move when the, the warhead, strikes something.
“A bit of thread. Wai’thago, you have done a great service for your city. I am delighted. How soon can I have a hundred of these?”
All the next day, a handpicked crew of archers and volunteers from the star-throwers guild, retrained as artillerymen. And women. Dawn the day after found Kirrah at the city’s docks, overseeing final preparations for a mission to meet the O’dai ships. The modest flotilla, six of the small Talamae merchant vessels, would carry forty Border Patrol and twenty Wrth, including horses and equipment. Another twenty Border Patrol had left before dawn, with orders to follow along the south bank of the Geera. Also aboard were six of the new mortar tubes and forty rounds, all the shop could produce in a day by cannibalizing parts from the previous designs. Each succeeding day, another ship would follow with fifteen or twenty more rounds.
“Why can’t I go?” asked Akaray, for the fifteenth time that morning.
“Why don’t you tell me the reasons, aska?” Kirrah paused in her anxious overseeing of every possible detail, and knelt on the dock by her adopted son. Temporarily adopted, she reminded herself as she hugged him fiercely, the scent of his light brown hair fresh and familiar in her nostrils.
“Too young. Too dangerous. No armor suit,” he said slowly, hugging her in return.
“I must go. We do not seek a fight with the Wrth. We need to test our weapons against the O’dai ships. If we have a problem, we will return on the south bank, by horseback.” Still he clung. Men loading supplies on the ships made a moving river of activity that divided and flowed around them.
“What is Akaray most afraid of?”
“The, the Wrth will catch you. Or the O’dai ships will sink you in the river.”
“These things are possible, that is why we will be very careful. You know we defeated the irwua. Trust me to be careful and skilled.” And to make a world where you don’t grow up fearing for your life every day, she added under her breath.
“Yes, Kirrah.” He released her neck and stepped back into the arms of Tash’ta, Kirrah’s maid and first choice of caregiver in her absence.
“Good hunting,” said Opeth, stepping forward and gripping her hand in the greeting-salute.
“Take good care of the City while I am gone, Armsmaster. Save the Royal Cavalry for things you cannot do from behind our walls.” Dark, dark blue eyes gazed out from under his bushy brows, acknowledging her fears.
“It will be my pleasure, Warmaster. Your new weapons and all the new recruits make it an easy task. May Source protect you.”
The ships pushed off one by one, drifting from the docks at the foot of the military quadrant and out into the current. Oars were unshipped and a moderate stroke drove the small vessels steadily downstream. Kirrah continued to pace and check things, until Irshe cornered her and asked,
“Is Kirrah trying to walk down the River Geera?”
“What? Oh, I just keep wondering what I’ve forgotten. Nerves.”
“Has Kirrah not led men into battle before?”
“In the Regnum, we fight rarely, and when we do, it is with machines. We never see our enemies. My job was …is, to steer the vessel. Others control its weapons, and act as lookout. The captain is in charge. This all seems so, so personal.”
“If you do not see your enemy’s face, how do you know when he is afraid, or worried, or determined, or willing to surrender?”
“Our machines fight for us, faster than a man can blink an eye. If one ship loses, most often everyone aboard is dead before they can feel it. We do not have the choice to look at our enemy’s face.”
“Then, how do you know when it is time to stop fighting?”
“That, my friend, is a very good question. Once two ships begin battle, it is usually to the death, or until one escapes. More often, we fight with many ships, like a patrol of cavalry and bowmen, each having weapons with different tasks.”
“Once, Kirrah'jasa, I thought I would enjoy seeing your warmaking above the sky. Now I am not so sure. Here, would you sit on this bale and try to get some rest? It will be a long day, if you burn your energy like a candle.” With a resigned sigh, Kirrah took her friend’s excellent advice.
Before noon, the twenty mounted scouts following along the south bank caught up, passed them and continued downstream. The river’s course swung northwest in a long curve, and they glided like cruise ships down the peaceful current. The shoreline was mostly flat, gentle rolling plains spread out from either bank. Not-grass filled the view to the horizon north and south, broken intermittently by small clumps of trees and herds of grazing mu’uthn and their smaller cousins the domesticable mu’atha. Occasionally a solitary bird could be seen lofting high on invisible thermals in the clear cerulean air. By afternoon, puffy white clouds dotted the sky. The sun set in a brief, vivid display of reds and golds.
In the twilight, men fed and watered the horses as the ships continued downstream. Everyone but a small night watch slept as best they could. Some time deep in the planet’s long night, they passed the burned-out husk of the town of Olame’thsha on the north bank, torched by the Wrth some fifteen days earlier. Shortly after, the river’s cour
se turned southwest again.
Dawn of the second day found the flotilla within seventy kilometers of the river mouth. Late that morning, they were greeted by a pair of scouts coming back upriver, riding hard. The ships pulled in to the south bank, and Kirrah and the others quickly learned that the O’dai warships had been spotted at least ten kilometers up from the mouth of the river, moving upstream and paced by the main body of Wrth raiders on the north shore. One of the big benefits of paranoia, Kirrah reflected, was that when something bad actually happened, a person was ready with a plan.
“Everyone off!” she ordered. “Supplies, horses, everything. As soon as the first boat is empty, take a mooring rope to the north shore. I want the cheapest, oldest boat moored directly in the center of the river.
“As soon as the gear is unloaded, set up our tents there, where the brush is thickest, a hundred hab’la back from the riverbank. Don’t pitch them fully, just give us a cloth wall between our mortars and the river. I don’t want to help them target anything. Use the side of the cloth that is the best camouflage. The later they know what’s here, the better. Set up the mortar tubes behind the tents.” She turned back to address the boat crews.
“Leave one more boat, the fastest, tied up here on the shore. Its crew should be volunteer only, there may be much fighting. I may need a boat, but it may be lost. The other four, head upstream as fast as you can. If the enemy passes us and overtakes you, land on the south shore and take your crews overland to the city. I want no crew captured or killed trying to save their boats.
“Irshe, send a messenger upstream, warn Opeth the O’dai are coming, and keep the new mortar rounds there, do not send any more downstream. We will make a stand here, and then ride to the city. He will need every defense he has, if the siege boats reach the city before we do. Tell him we will attempt another messenger tomorrow.
“Rash’koi-sana'tachk, I want twenty men with chain mail armor hidden down in the reeds at the riverbank. Fire arrows and grenade arrows ready.” Men were bustling about to her barrage of orders.
“Peetha.” The young woman stepped up smartly and saluted, her brown eyes shining.
“Warmaster.”
“Your warriors will guard the mortars. When they are not under attack, you have my permission to shoot at the boats or any other thickly massed enemy, including Wrth on the far shore. We have only the arrows we carry. Every warrior must hold back at least two hands of bodkin points, to defend the mortars in case the enemy lands on this shore.”
“Yes, Warmaster!” With another snappy salute, Peetha barked orders and moved her squad off to her assigned position. Save us all from keeners, Kirrah thought.
“Why aren’t those boats headed upriver?” she demanded, realizing that the unloading was complete. Several river captains glanced at one another.
“We cannot agree which boat is the fastest, Warmaster,” said one.
“That’s right,” called another from farther down the bank. “Crath’pae’s hull may be newer, but my crew beats his every time we race.”
“Infants!” Called another captain, from upstream. “My boat can beat both of your leaking washtubs!”
As Kirrah’s brow was darkening with thoughts of punishment for mutineers, Irshe stepped to her side and said quietly:
“All the ship crews want to stay and help. No one wants to leave and miss seeing our Warmaster win, and if it goes badly, no one wants to return without her. If you want to send them away, you must choose who, and you must drive them off with a broom.”
Damn, she thought, what is it with these people? And why haven’t I learned how to cuss in Talamae?
“Irshe, I cannot guarantee to win every time. I welcome their help, but any boats left here when the O’dai arrive will probably be lost.”
“Perhaps if the extra boats were pulled up on the bank, a doi’la or two upriver? How could the boat crews be useful? Thirty men, if they all stayed.”
“All right, if that is what they want, put them to work running errands and handling arrows for the bowmen. Tell them I think they are all fools, and I thank them.”
After two hours of tedious waiting, another pair of riders arrived from downriver, to confirm that the O’dai ships were still approaching, and that there were twelve of them, strung out in three lines abreast. Kirrah sent two of the scouts on fresh mounts, and two of the sailors, back downriver to see what their extra experience could tell her about the approaching vessels. An hour later they returned, just as the tops of masts became visible at extreme range downriver. Captain Crath’pae reported:
“I saw six excise ships, Warmaster, and two more of the same style but with the extra tower amidships. I also saw four more cargo ships, about the same size, at the back of the fleet. I could tell by how high they are in the water, they are empty or nearly empty.”
“Thank you, Captain. Would anyone care to guess why the O’dai send empty cargo ships up our river? And why they and the Wrth wait five or ten days for them to arrive?” Several speculative looks were exchanged. Finally Irshe said the thought that had formed in everyone’s mind.
“The cargo ships are to transport the Wrth around our walls. They plan to land on the riverbank inside the city, possibly at our own docks.”
“Captain, how many mounted men could one of those ships carry, for a short trip on calm water?”
“Perhaps thirty or forty. A few more, if they really pack them in.”
“No,” said Peetha. “The Wrth will travel in fires, in groups of thirty warriors plus a commander and a priest, if they possibly can. No commander would want to go into battle separated from half her fire of warriors. If they cannot carry two complete fires, they will carry only one.” Kirrah noted the look of new respect that crept over some faces, especially those who had had reservations about bringing along the untested Wrth converts.
“This poses another new danger. If the O’dai can hold the river, and can transport enough Wrth across to this side, we could be in real trouble here, people. If it comes to a horserace between us and a thousand raiders, whose horses will be swiftest?” More looks were exchanged. Lieutenant Rash’koi spoke up:
“The Wrth horses are smaller than ours, faster in a short race, but running on open plains, they will tire sooner. However, if they pace themselves, they can keep going longer than our mounts, and they would catch up to us before we reach the city.”
“For each archer,” Kirrah said, “we have five bundles, that’s one hundred bodkin arrows. We also have two bundles of grenade-arrows and two of the fire arrows, that’s twelve of each. Eight thousand bodkin, nine hundred sixty grenades and firestarters. Plus forty mortar rounds. I think we can do this, but we must be very careful. We will have to destroy the cargo ships at all costs. Nothing the other ships can do is as dangerous for us as moving Wrth across the river in numbers.
“If shooting starts, I want the mortars to concentrate their fire first on the transports. Captain Crath’pae, stay with the mortar crews and direct their fire. Ignore everything else. Once all the mortar rounds are fired, the tubes are not worth guarding, so grab a bow and help.
“Irshe, take twenty Border Patrol and join Peetha’s squad. Peetha, with these twenty and your twenty, your new job is to intercept any Wrth as they come off a cargo ship, kill them before they can form up on this bank. Do the job, but don’t waste arrows.
“Rash’koi-sana'tachk, and Peetha when you’re not busy with a landing, I want you to make life unpleasant for the ships. Remember to concentrate your fire. A spilled oil lamp is just a nuisance on a ship, but twenty spilled at once is a disaster. Especially if grenades keep distracting sailors who try to fight the fires.
“One of the other captains, please take crews, go back up river where the four boats are hidden, and move them another fifteen doi’la up the river. And stay with them. If we need your services as ferrymen, we will be in a hurry. No foolish bravery, this could make the difference between escape and death for us all.
“Captain Crath�
�pae, is there a way to get the O’dai captains to talk, before we have to fight? A truce-flag?”
“Warmaster, there is the ‘ship’s banner’ language, colored ribbons that sailors use to send messages. We have a set on each ship.”
“Is there a signal that means ‘stop and talk’?”
“Yes, Warmaster. If they bother to. The O’dai have grown careless lately about naval law and tradition.”
“We’ll give them a chance. Set that up on the spare ship, drawn right up at the bank where the mooring line ends. Is there a signal for ‘keep out’?”
“Ahhh, I suppose we could fly ‘stand off’ and Lord Tsano’s colors.”
“That will be clear enough. Fly that on the ship moored in the center.”
Another half hour passed, the O’dai ships came close enough that their sails were visible, then the hulls themselves. Far overhead, a large bird wheeled in the first thermals of the day. On the north shore pacing the ships, the Wrth horsemen made a column two abreast at least five kilometers long, wending back across the plain like a snake. Or a tso’ckhai, Kirrah mused, remembering the thirty-six meter ‘grass weasel’ she had killed behind Akaray, on her second day. Time for a rematch.
“Does Kirrah’s not-sword lose its force if you do not keep checking it?”
“What? Irshe. Oh, no, I’m just nervous. My not-sword is well fed. Have I been checking it often?”
“Eight times, since I have noticed.”
“Oh.” Damn, doesn’t miss much, does he? “How does Irshe’jasa remain so calm? Do you not fear the approach of a battle where you may die?” A thoughtful pause.
IronStar Page 21