He had just hoisted Quantrill on his own petard. If the man tried to drum up sedition by claiming Grendel put his dirigibles specifically at risk, the others would tell him to be careful what he wished for. And with much of his fleet elsewhere, he would be less likely to cause trouble with Mangle or put into action any covetous thoughts toward the Basin.
Even if this goes nowhere, I’ll have gained something.
Quantrill nodded. “It would be an honor, my lord.”
Either Quantrill did not know Grendel’s intent or he played his cards very close. Grendel suspected the latter.
“All of you are to return to your domains and gather your armies. Clark, Mangle, Quantrill, I want thirty-five thousand soldiers from each of you. You will be the vanguard and will have first crack at the valuables. Alexander, seventy thousand. The rest of you, fifteen thousand each. I have gathered supplies and I am sure all of you have as well. Now is the time to use them.”
The combined armies would number well over two hundred thousand, before Grendel sent in the Obsidian Guard. Even with the stockpiles, provisioning them would prove a challenge. Rail would be best to ensure a continuous flow of supplies.
He would summon engineers to see where best to build or extend rail lines. There were plenty of prisoners and conscripts to build them. He would summon farmers from their fields if necessary. Thanks to gas and electric lighting, work did not have to stop at nightfall.
Alexander leaned forward. “Airship reconnaissance is well and good, my lord, but it would be prudent to have boots on the ground. Infiltrators would also be less conspicuous than airships with strange markings poking around.”
Again, Alexander played his part well.
“An excellent point,” Grendel said. “It will take time to mobilize that many soldiers and build the needed infrastructure. Therefore, in addition to aerial reconnaissance, the airships will deliver scouting parties to sound out the territory in advance. They will find the best targets to attack when we have strategic surprise and the best choke points to hold the enemy at bay when they counterattack. Even if we cannot advance beyond what we initially take, we should be able to keep what we seize.”
Grendel paused. “Not only will I supply Obsidian Guard for the task, but I believe Quantrill has some of the finest infiltrators and saboteurs in the Northlands.” He turned his gaze toward Quantrill. “He would not skimp on them when the rewards for being in the vanguard are so great, would he?”
Quantrill smiled. “It would be an honor.”
This was too easy. The bastard had to be up to something.
“Does anyone have any questions?” None did. “Excellent. You have your orders.”
Grendel’s subordinates rose and filed out, leaving Grendel alone with his guards and his sons. Now was the time for other business. “Step outside,” Grendel ordered the guardsmen. They obeyed.
“I’m staying behind, I take it?” Falki asked as soon as it was just the three of them.
Grendel nodded. “I have left you to govern for days before. Now you will rule for weeks, months, maybe even years. If there is trouble, send Arne and plenty of guardsmen.” He looked his eldest son in the eye. “Do not be eager. If I die across the desert and you die chasing bandits or punishing some bored soldiers, Arne will become first lord. He is younger and unblooded.” Out of the corner of his eye, Grendel watched his younger son’s reaction. He didn’t object like Falki would have. Good. Wise for his age. “Somebody who would not dare challenge you or me may try their luck against him. And then there is Lenora.”
Though Falki was unnecessarily paranoid about Logmar, Grendel would take the younger boy on the campaign. Logmar was only fifteen, but he could work the supply lines or carry ammunition to the cannon. It would also reduce the odds of the boy’s mother causing trouble and would keep Falki from trying to arrange an “accident” despite Grendel’s warning. He had just shown himself prone to temptation, after all.
“Hopefully with most of the soldiers crossing the desert with me, there will not be trouble like we have had the last few weeks.”
Falki raised an eyebrow. “Most of the soldiers? Hopefully you won’t take too many. The vets we’ve settled in the Basin might not be enough to hold it, and a lot of your commanders aren’t exactly popular.”
“I will not strip the Northlands bare. And I will take larger numbers of the troops I cannot trust out of your hair. They will not make trouble here and I will have enough Leaden Host and Obsidian Guard to keep them from making trouble over there. The other Hosts will contribute of course, but more will stay home.”
Falki nodded. Arne looked bored. Grendel’s gaze fell upon him. The boy’s attention returned immediately.
“And before I go, there will be another printing of that booklet describing what goes on in Mangle’s breeding pits and the worst of the mines. I may pardon some lesser offenders to further spread the word. The bards will be singing songs about my victories and what happens to my enemies. And I will make sure the informers I have among the soldiers remaining behind keep a close eye out for treason.”
Grendel turned to Arne. “You understand why I am doing this?”
“You don’t trust some of your men. You want to weaken them.”
Grendel smiled. “That’s a good lad. We use other men as our weapons, but some might turn on you. The weapons you trust least, you use first.”
Arne cocked his head. “Won’t they figure that?”
“Make it sound like an honor. First into the breach is first pick of the loot and women, if they survive. In case they do figure that out, they will be far away from their supporters here and I will have loyal soldiers surrounding them.”
Grendel paused. What happened next needed to be kept as secret as possible.
“Arne, we are going to review the process I have set up to appoint district governors in the Basin, but I need to talk to Falki first. Go get ready.”
Arne nodded and left the room. Grendel turned to face his eldest son.
“Yes, Father?”
Grendel was old, but he was still quick. He backhanded Falki before his son could react. He put enough strength into the blow to cause pain but not inflict significant damage. Falki stumbled backward, barely catching himself on the table.
“What the hell!” Falki snarled, murder in his eyes. Grendel hoped the boy was not foolish enough to raise a hand against him. He would hate to have to cut the offending hand off.
“May Odin have your guts to feed his ravens, Falki!” Grendel roared in Sejer. “May the Midgard Serpent swallow you whole! I thought you were fucking smarter!”
“What?”
“First, you wander off by yourself when I told you to never do that. You are lucky Quantrill sent just one trained pterosaur after you and not two or more. Otherwise you would be dead!”
“Quantrill? Why do you think it’s him? There was a war there! The place would be full of pterosaurs!”
“I did not get here by trusting ‘coincidence’! That woman shows up, you go for a walk, that thing attacks you, and lo and behold, you bring her home!”
“Well, once I’d fucked her, leaving her there would be a goddamn stupid idea! If she got knocked up, that’d be a grandson of yours under Quantrill’s or Clark’s control. Hell, he could find a flatlander kid with a Jiao grandmother and claim it’s mine.”
Grendel paused. It seemed his son had been thinking with something besides his cock. But there was still too much cock and not enough brain on display. “So instead of abandoning a potential successor to my least trustworthy men, you brought a likely spy into Norridge. That is an improvement, but not by much.”
“I’ve already ordered her correspondence monitored. Assuming she’s a spy, I’ll know what she’s telling Quantrill. Hell, I can lie to her and she’ll pass it on.”
“A spy you know about is an asset. Her purpose, however, is probably more than passing along pillow talk.” Falki raised an eyebrow. “He knows I intend to marry you to Nora Matthews. Alex
and I combined are unbeatable and I intend for that alliance to last after we are gone. A political match would go a long way toward making that happen.”
“She’s not my first girl —”
“I goddamn well know that. Do you think I do not keep an eye on you, to make sure you do not do anything that could cause me problems? The difference is you never brought them home.”
“They were all in Norridge. I didn’t need to —”
“Shut up and listen! I already had to send messages to Alex to make sure he knows you are still going to marry Nora and not this little mountain flower.”
Falki’s eyes widened. “You think Quantrill is trying to disrupt relations between you and Alexander?”
“He is not dumb enough to think he will ever manage that. But making sure relations between our successors are not as tight is entirely different.” Grendel’s scowl deepened. “If that thing killed you, I would have lost my strongest heir. And now there is a likely spy in your bed. This will not go unpunished.”
“You’re going to start a war over this? Without proof? You told me to tread carefully with subordinates and respect their legitimate rights and now you’re going to —”
“No. The expedition to the south will go forward, but Quantrill will leave with me. He will not return alive.” Had there been more time, he would arrange for a tragic dirigible accident. “I already planned on eliminating him sooner or later. This advances the timetable a bit.”
A smile slowly spread across Falki’s reddened face.
“Now, if you were to send this Rosalyn back, Quantrill will know we know her purpose. Keep her here and pretend nothing has happened. In case she asks about your face, tell her you were sparring with Arne and he got a lucky hit. Do not even drop the slightest hint about our suspicions.” He locked eyes with Falki. “I am going to let you keep her. But your son and successor will be borne by Nora Matthews. Make sure you and this Rosalyn do not have any before then, or I will.”
He would err on the side of caution. The staff would dose her food with wild carrot and a bit of pennyroyal. They would continue until after Falki had gotten a son by Nora, after they were wed.
“You look like you are eager to go somewhere. Back to your bedroom, I assume?”
Falki shook his head. “The latest Guard settlement is running into trouble. General Chan has requested reinforcements.”
Grendel frowned. Another revolt. Just what he needed. If Quantrill was behind the attack on Falki, he might have other tricks up his sleeves. Funneling arms to the dispossessed in the Basin would be doable from his territory. Although Quantrill dared not mastermind Falki’s death while he and his entourage were easy targets in Norridge, Grendel could not take the chance.
“Given how you dealt with the ones who killed Wang Fai, I would be glad to send you, but you are staying here until Quantrill and most of his army set off. I will find other work for you to do. With the expedition, there will be plenty of it.”
“Father —”
“Falki, shut the hell up.”
Between Falki’s foolishness, Quantrill’s treachery, and the rebels’ stubbornness, Grendel was in a foul mood. For a moment, he considered unleashing Falki. He had brought peace across the entire Northlands. The goddamn flatlanders did not appreciate the effort he put into keeping his ambitious men under control. They would most certainly deserve the punishment Falki would inflict.
But Grendel would not risk his firstborn son on something so minor, not now. Falki still gaped at him. “I need to think. Go fuck Rosalyn or drill your company.”
Falki nodded, turned on his heel, and left.
To Battle
The Second Pendleton rode single-file across the brown, stony ground beneath a wide sky turning pink with the sunrise. Andrew clenched the reins. Hours in the saddle, even in the dark,, had left his mouth dry. His throat was tight, but it wasn’t solely from thirst. His eyes locked straight ahead.
This wouldn’t be like the ambush on the Flesh-Eater column where they killed a right big chunk of the enemy in the first volley. Even if the Flesh-Eaters didn’t see them coming, the two companies of the Second Pendleton would still be taking a fort by storm.
His gaze leaped to the front of the column. The cavalry — including Alyssa — were off scouting. They’d bring back word of any Flesh-Eater patrols.
Assuming the Flesh-Eaters didn’t get the better of them, of course. The image of the Flesh-Eaters killing the cavalry or worse, capturing them and tearing them apart at their leisure, rose unbidden to his mind.
“Andrew,” Hank said. “Don’t drift off like that. You’re going to need to stay on your toes.”
Andrew nodded. He tried to force himself to keep his eyes peeled for any movement. Alyssa and the cavalry might return soon or the column might run into a Flesh-Eater patrol that had gotten between them and the scouts.
For a long time, nothing moved in the distance. Then, something appeared atop one of the hills on the column’s right. Several somethings.
Andrew’s heart leaped into his throat. His rifle hung in its loop on the saddle, and he’d practiced snatching it quickly. But no order had been given and it didn’t seem like anyone else was grabbing their weapons.
The new arrivals grew larger. Andrew exhaled in relief. It was the scouts. Alyssa was among them.
The five riders made their way down the hill and approached the column. The major raised his right hand. The column halted.
Andrew tensed. Something was about to happen.
Muttering raced up and down the line of men. As the conversation rolled toward him Andrew heard “Flesh-Eater” and “patrol.”
“Quiet, all of you,” Zeke snarled. Other sergeants and corporals joined in, including Wyatt.
Orders soon rolled down the column. Zeke rode up to the front along with the other sergeants. After conferring with the others, he returned to the squad. “There’s a Flesh-Eater patrol a couple miles ahead, heading west. We’ll let them pass.”
Will leaned forward in the saddle. “Why the hell don’t we kill them?”
Zeke’s gaze fell on Will like an avalanche. Will sat up straight in the saddle, eyes locked ahead. “The L-T didn’t see fit to say, but I’m going to bet that picking a fight risks warning the fort. Now hobble your lip.”
The cavalry went out again. The column waited. Sweat beaded beneath Andrew’s hair. He took a swig of water mixed with a bit of corn liquor to prevent sickness. Best not drink too much. That risked an inconvenient need to piss during the fight or having less water in case they got scattered.
He remembered the desert. The shimmering air, the killing heat, the stone tearing through his pants to bite flesh when he fell. These badlands weren’t as harsh, but they were no place to be without water once the sun finished rising.
Time passed. Andrew looked around. The other soldiers didn’t look particularly happy, either. How much longer was this going to take?
The cavalry once more appeared over the hill. Once more they approached the column to confer with the officers. Zeke rode forward and quickly returned. “Looks like the Flesh-Eater patrol’s gone. Get moving.”
The column rolled out. They soon came across a tall wooden pole. Wires ran in both directions. Andrew’s gaze followed the line to a similar pole atop the nearby hills. The wire connected to another pole and from there to more as far west as Andrew could see.
Will laughed.“Telegraph lines. Jackpot.”
The column stopped. Zeke emerged from the column and looked the pole up and down. “Let’s see what they have to say.”
A soldier shimmied up the telegraph pole to the first of a series of metal spikes. He climbed to the top and went to work. A soldier from another squad did the same to one of the poles to the left. Andrew watched the men on the poles. Hopefully whatever they were doing wouldn’t alert the Flesh-Eaters.
“Traffic’s normal,” one soldier called down. “They’re asking about supply wagons and the weather. If they knew we were coming, th
ey’d be talking a lot more.” He paused. “Want us to cut the lines?”
“No,” an officer called out. “Mount up and let’s get moving.”
The men came down from the poles. David leaned over to Andrew. “You sure this is a good idea? If we don’t cut those lines, they’ll call for help when we hit them.”
Zeke shook his head. “The lines go down, they’ll know something’s up.” His tone brooked no argument.
The two soldiers had barely mounted up when Hank pointed to the west. “Dirigible!”
Andrew’s gaze followed Hank’s finger. His throat clenched as soon as he laid eyes on it. Had tapping the telegraph line somehow called the airship in?
The dirigible was far away, but Andrew reckoned it smaller than the one at Carroll Town. It was painted blue, not red and black like a Flesh-Eater airship. The fabric-tearing sound of dirigible guns rose into his memory. His hands trembled on the reins.
The troopers had a balloon-popper and the numbers to fight a single airship — maybe. But it’d kill a lot of them first.
Muttering raced through the column. “All of you, hobble your goddamn lips!” Zeke shouted. “Behind the goddamn hills! The thing’s far enough away it might not see us!”
The riders spurred their horses and rushed over the lowest hill. Andrew glanced back. Dust clouds rose behind them. Bile burned in the back of his throat. The dirigible crew had to have seen that.
“Dismount!” Zeke ordered as soon as they were — presumably — out of sight. “Prepare to receive dirigible!”
Battle for the Wastelands Page 22