“But why doesn’t Golyat retreat into the lands to the east, then, and drag matters out?”
“Because he loses as well, then. He won’t be able to claim the support of the people and the merchants and factors. Both he and the Emperor lose that way, and that means that Hamor as a land loses even more.”
“So Golyat’s wagering that we have to fight and that he can win?”
“Exactly. If Golyat wins tomorrow, the Emperor’s support will crumble. It’s never been that strong—”
“Ser…he’s the Emperor, isn’t he?”
“Rahl. I think I pointed out before that no one rules except through others who carry out their will. The Emperor’s present problem is that he needs the support of two of the three Triads. While Jubyl will support him, if we do not crush this revolt quickly, Dhoryk will turn from the Emperor because he believes that the High Command has not been given the coins and the resources to protect Hamor effectively, and many of the senior officers in the High Command have already expressed those very concerns. Likewise, Fieryn has expressed concerns that there are more offenders against the Codex than previously because there are fewer mage-guards for the number of people, and without either a greater use of non-mage patrollers or a greater use of magely powers, order cannot be maintained. Either alternative is costly, one way or the other.”
“Those sound like excuses to turn from the Emperor,” Rahl suggested. “We’ve been using patrollers in Nubyat.”
“Only as an emergency measure. Institutionalizing that across all of Hamor would create great unrest among many of the mage-guards, and it would upset the people as well. They know that a mage-guard can tell what is true and what is not, and they would fear patrollers who could not and who might be bribed. Fieryn’s and Dhoryk’s reasons may sound like excuses,” Taryl continued, “but many with power and coins would support such excuses if the Emperor does not show himself as strong and effective. Letting a revolt continue when one has a chance to end it decisively would reinforce the concerns of both Triads. While neither has spoken to me of this, I believe that they are here to see if I will, as the representative of the Emperor, act decisively.” Taryl offered a wry smile. “There’s also the practical consideration. If we let Golyat escape and refuse a decisive battle, we’d have to ship in rations on a massive scale, and that would please no one, or we’d have to seize grain, livestock, rice, and tubers from the local growers over an area of close to a hundred kays by a hundred kays.”
“Seize? We’ve offered script before…”
“After a few eightdays, the food becomes more valuable than the script, and if we paid what it would be worth, the cost would be as much as shipping rations, if not more.”
Was war always a matter of coins? Or did the coins just provide the measure of what was lost in war? Rahl leaned toward the second, but he wasn’t so certain that some favored the first.
“Now…how many men are on this ridge?”
“Earlier today, there were no more than two thousand, if that, but there are two roads from the south—the main road from Sastak and a farm road. They both can be used to reinforce the ridge, and while we were scouting I could see another battalion moving into position. They have one mage using a screeing glass as well, and his detection of Third Company—”
“You didn’t try to find out anything, did you?”
“No. I just kept my shields tight and took in what I could. He kept coming back to us when we got close to the southeastern earthworks, then seemed to lose interest once we headed back north.”
“Was he focused on you?”
“No, ser. It seemed to be on the entire squad, at least from what I could tell.”
“Let us hope so. What else?”
“The rice paddies to the west of the road are flooded, but we could see no trace of rebels or encampments there….” Rahl described the total lack of rebel presence north of the ridge, giving as many details as he could. “That’s what makes this all so strange. They’ve collected food and supplies, but there are no outlying posts or forts and no sign of scouts.”
“Given Golyat and Ulmaryt, that’s less than surprising. He’s rather good with the screeing glass. Besides, what’s really the point of scouting when we have to attack them?”
“To see how many troopers we have,” suggested Rahl.
“They either destroy us, or they don’t. Our force is more than a third smaller than when we set out, and that must give them confidence.”
“Why hasn’t Dhoryk sent reinforcements?”
“Because there aren’t that many to send, and those that there are wouldn’t add a great deal.”
No more to send? Rahl found that hard to believe.
“Hamor can support a mighty fleet or a mighty army, but not both,” Taryl said. “The fleet keeps us prosperous because it protects our trade. The army regiments, while necessary, are a drain on the land, because the mage-guards keep order with fewer coins.” He paused. “Is Recluce any different?”
Rahl knew Recluce followed that philosophy, but he hadn’t considered that Hamor did as well.
“I can tell that I’ve made you think,” Taryl said dryly. “Go and do so elsewhere for a time. But stay around the villa, because I’ve arranged for you and Deybri to join me for a short evening meal before the commanders’ briefing, and it won’t be that long before we eat. You will be the one to brief them on the disposition of the rebel forces. Do not voice any conclusions whatsoever. Just point out what is where and what is not, and only answer any questions from the Triads by repeating the facts, and saying that those are the facts, and that decisions about how and why are to be made by those in higher authority.”
“Yes, ser.”
Taryl gestured toward the study door, and Rahl inclined his head, then slipped out.
Once in the corridor, he debated what he should do until they ate. He wouldn’t have had enough time to ride back to the stead housing Third Company, and yet, just standing around seemed…wasteful. At the same time, he had the feeling that the dinner with Deybri was more than a gesture by Taryl, but even if it were not, he appreciated the invitation.
He surveyed several rooms, all of which retained the majority of furnishings, but none of the artwork or hangings, and finally settled himself in a comfortable chair in the front parlor to try to puzzle out what lay behind Taryl’s words, because something always lay behind the overcommander’s words.
Golyat—or his advisors—had obviously known that the High Command was well provided with warships and less well provided with troopers, but the troopers Rahl had encountered were all well trained and able—far more so than the rebels they had fought, even given that at least some of the rebel forces had to have been former High Command troopers. Under those circumstances, several things made more sense. Sending Rahl out with Third Company had been designed to reduce unnecessary casualties. By the same token, the traps set by the rebels had been planned with the idea of reducing the number of troopers while not reducing the rebel forces. Fieryn and Dhoryk were present, not because they cared for Taryl or even for the Emperor, but presumably because, if Taryl failed, they also risked losing power and position, either because they would be linked to the inability to subdue the rebels or, in the worst case, because Golyat would not retain Triads ostensibly loyal to the Emperor. That also suggested that the two Triads and Taryl were aware of far more mages in the rebel forces than had appeared heretofore, and that meant the result of the coming battle would be anything but as certain as those that had preceded it.
Rahl was trying to consider what he had not seen, his eyes directed out the windows into a small walled garden, but not really seeing the early spring flowers, thinking over what Taryl had not said when he heard steps and sensed Deybri. She’d barely crossed the foyer when Rahl met her.
A warm smile appeared. “Taryl said you’d be here.”
Rahl embraced her, and for a time they were lost in each other.
Deybri was the one to slip back. “I’m a mes
s.”
“I didn’t notice.” Rahl heard a set of chimes in the background, but he concentrated on what Deybri was saying and feeling.
“I’m grateful for that.”
“It is time for dinner.” Taryl stood behind them, beside the parlor door.
“Oh…” The most fleeting feeling of embarrassment and confusion accompanied Deybri’s inadvertent syllable. “I didn’t know…”
“I can understand why.” Taryl gestured. “We are limited to the main dining chamber.” He turned.
Rahl and Deybri followed, holding hands.
The dining chamber was modest—for a villa—with the same white walls and a green-tile floor that had once been covered by some form of carpet—and a table that had six chairs on a side and two chairs with arms at each end. The end farthest from the archway off the main hall was set for three. All three settings had pale cream porcelain platters, rimmed in green, with a crystal wine goblet for each as well.
Taryl took the seat at the end of the table but waited for Deybri to seat herself. “It’s very much a treat to have a beautiful woman at dinner.”
Deybri inclined her head slightly. “You say that with such gallantry.”
“That does not mean it is not sincere, although I need gallantry because I cannot express my pleasure merely by looking in the way that your intended does. I can tell you,” Taryl finished as he seated himself, “that I have never seen him look at any other woman that way, even the Empress, and she is most beautiful.”
While there was nothing in the tone of Taryl’s voice nor any indication of feeling other than pleasantry, Rahl wondered just what emotion lay beneath the overcommander’s shields.
“You are kind to include me with the Empress, but I doubt I merit such comparison.”
“You do,” Rahl said quietly. “Although she is most beautiful, so are you.”
“That is something I would not argue with Rahl about,” added Taryl with a laugh. He lifted the crystal pitcher and poured the amber wine into Deybri’s goblet, then Rahl’s, and finally his own. “I’m told that this is a fair wine. The best of the cellar departed with the previous owner.”
At that moment, an orderly in a trooper’s uniform brought in a large platter, setting it before Taryl, then returned with two other casserole dishes, and a basket of a thin hard bread, broken into irregular chunks.
“It’s a southern pickle-spiced fowl, with crispy-sticky rice and orange sauce,” noted the overcommander, serving Deybri, then himself. “The bread is a local specialty. It helps in scooping the rice around.”
“I’ve never had this before,” Rahl admitted, taking a healthy portion of the fowl and rice.
“Neither have I,” replied Taryl, “but the cook here insisted that no one should visit the southwest without having the best southern fowl—and hers is the best. She was most insistent upon that.”
Deybri smiled faintly, but Rahl could sense apprehension behind the smile.
The orderly reappeared, but only to light the bronze oil lamps in the wall sconces.
Rahl attempted to use a bread fragment to scoop up the orange sticky rice, but the rice was more solid than he had thought, and fragments of the hard and thin bread—more like a smooth cracker—splintered across both his platter and the table.
Deybri smothered a smile.
“It is sticky and solid,” Rahl admitted. “Tasty…but solid.”
“I don’t think I’ll mention that to the cook,” Taryl said.
The conversation remained confined to the food for the rest of the meal because Taryl only discussed the food and how it differed from cooking in the north of Hamor and because Rahl would have felt most uncomfortable bringing up some of the questions he had, especially since he knew Taryl was unlikely to answer them.
The main course was followed by pearapple-lime tarts.
“That was most satisfactory,” Taryl said, after finishing the last morsel of his tart. “And now…to the briefing.” He looked to Deybri. “I would like you to take the chair by the archway, as if you were monitoring and watching, but I would ask your concentration on those at the briefing.”
“Yes, ser.”
Rahl could sense both her willingness to observe and her curiosity at Taryl’s order.
“And after everyone leaves, just return to my study and wait for me.”
Rahl and Deybri nodded.
The three did not have to walk far to reach where the briefing would take place—just down the dimly lit hallway to the large salon in the villa, where several chairs had been added to the settees and armchairs already in place. A map board had been set up on what had been a dining table and propped at an angle with heavy square stones. All the wall lamps had been lit, imparting a warm glow to the salon.
“Take a good look at the map, so that you can easily point out where the rebel forces are,” Taryl said to Rahl. “Then sit in the straight-backed chair on the end there and wait. Practice looking polite behind your shields.”
“Yes, ser.”
The first officer to enter was Commander Muyr, and the second was Shuchyl. Neither more than glanced at Rahl in passing, although he did sense a certain veiled curiosity from Muyr. The other seven commanders followed quickly. Only after the nine commanders had arrived did Fieryn and Dhoryk make their appearance, walking to the two armchairs that constituted the middle of the semicircle of chairs.
Taryl waited several moments, then stood and addressed the senior officers. “Before we discuss the plans for the attack on the rebel positions north of Sastak, Majer Rahl will brief us on their positions and disposition of forces.” Taryl nodded toward Rahl.
Rahl stood and walked to the map board, then half turned, taking a position from which he could both point to the map and still address the commanders and Triads. “The rebels have fortified this ridge four kays north of the outskirts of Sastak. The ridge extends a kay from one end to the other and runs from the southeast to the northwest, with the northwest end sloping down to the main road between Nubyat and Sastak….” Rahl followed Taryl’s instructions as precisely as he could, providing the geography and the facts as he knew them and offering no opinions or judgments. When he finished, there were a number of questions.
“How does the eastern farm road compare in the ability to hold riders to the main road?”
“Are there any obvious sources of water on the ridge?”
“Exactly how steep are the approaches?”
After answering the last of the questions, Rahl inclined his head to Taryl.
“That will be all, Majer. Stand by in the event some factual issues about the terrain arise.”
Rahl returned to the end seat, thinking about how intently both Dhoryk and Fieryn had followed his description. Yet neither had asked a question.
Taryl stood once more. “Golyat is challenging us to a battle. That much is clear. While there is some risk attached to attacking, the position that the rebels have chosen limits their capabilities even more than it does ours. The slopes to the ridgeline are comparatively gentle and easily traveled by mount. They are narrow enough, however, that our mage-guards can provide some protection against chaos-bolts….”
Rahl listened as Taryl described the plan, if a direct attack up two open slopes could be considered a plan. The overcommander did propose a series of smaller attacks initially, both to draw out the archers and chaos-mages and to minimize the impact of chaos-bolts, then the use of spread formations because chaos-attacks would have far less effect when the troopers were spread apart until they reached the earthworks.
After he finished, the first question came from a graying commander Rahl had seen but never met personally. “I will submit that, if we intend to attack, Overcommander, your plan is the best that is possible. I question why we need attack at all. We can bypass the ridge, take the city, and wait.”
“For how long?” asked Taryl softly. “Every day that the fleet must patrol costs hundreds of golds. Without such patrols, Fairhaven will send more mages, lik
e those who have already killed hundreds of troopers. In addition, I have been reminded that Jeranyi pirate attacks against our merchanters are increasing, especially in the Eastern Ocean, because of the warships tied up in the blockade of the rebels.”
“Overcommander,” offered Fieryn, “perhaps you might explain some of the other losses involved.”
“Thank you, honored Triad.” Taryl inclined his head. “As a result of the rebellion, the Jeranyi have taken ten more ships in the past season than ever before. Each of those ships carried an average crew of twenty, as well as close to twenty passengers. That amounts to four hundred innocents dead. The loss of ships and cargoes to our factors from just those ten vessels exceeds fifty thousand golds. The loss to the Imperial treasury is estimated at more than five thousand.” Taryl’s words became harder. “Even with healers, for every half season, a force in the field loses a minimum of one trooper in twenty to disease, desertion, and accidents. Following your recommendation will require at least an additional season, and will not necessarily end the revolt, since we cannot patrol that effectively a perimeter of over three kays night and day for a season with the manpower we have. In addition, occupying Sastak will result in additional costs, not to mention that it will result in less support for the Emperor from an area that has not been that supportive, and that will require even more golds in the future.”
“Begging your pardon, Overcommander—”
Rahl could sense a whiteness around and within the commander, something not present in any of the other commanders.
“Commander Hyksyn, we will attack tomorrow. Since you are clearly uncomfortable with that decision, you are hereby relieved, and Majer Deolyn will assume command of Third Regiment, effective immediately.”
“You can’t—” Hyksyn abruptly swayed on his feet, then sat down hard, shaking his head.
Rahl could only admire the speed and force of the unseen order-bolt that Taryl had projected.
“Majer Rahl, please escort the commander to the protective detail waiting in the foyer. Captain Healer Deybri, I’d like you to check the commander before he is confined to assure his health.”
Mage-Guard of Hamor Page 66