by David Weber
“It’s not like we haven’t seen this coming, Rhobair. Oh, we didn’t have a clue about the damned balloons, but we always knew they’d hit us and eventually hit us hard. The way they tricked us into focusing on the south makes it a lot worse, but Rainbow Waters still has a very strong position on a relatively narrow front north of the Great Tarikah Forest. He’s got good east-west roads and the canal behind him if he’s forced to give ground, too. I know Zhaspahr plans on putting Rychtyr’s head on a stick, but the man’s tactics against Hanth were brilliant, and Rainbow Waters is at least that good and has a hell of a lot more to work with. The front may be breaking, but it doesn’t have to collapse unless we give him and Gustyv another of Zhaspahr’s ‘no retreat’ orders.”
He met the treasurer’s eyes, and the ticking of the clock was deafening.
“That’s the real reason I’m here,” he said quietly. “You and I had better have a brief discussion before our meeting with Zhaspahr. And Zahmsyn, of course,” he added as an afterthought. “He’s going to be in full bore frothing mode over Talmar, especially after he hears about the frigging ‘demonic’ balloons. The news about Green Valley and the ironclads on the Hildermoss’ll only make that worse, and we need to be sure we’re both on the same page if we’re going to keep him from doing something else outstandingly stupid.”
Maigwair’s eyes were worried and his tone was grim, but he sounded far from defeated, Duchairn noted. Given that lack of defeat, and assuming it was genuine, then the two of them might not be on the same page after all.
“You know he has to have eyes in my staff and that those eyes will tell him you and I are conferring before the meeting,” he pointed out.
“He doesn’t need any reports that we’re actually discussing this before the meeting, and you know it. By now he automatically assumes you and I are conniving behind his back any time some less than cheerful bit of news arrives, whatever his spies tell him! If they don’t report we’re doing it, it’s only because we’ve done better than usual at sneaking around and hiding it.”
Now there, Duchairn thought, he had a point.
“You’re probably right,” he sighed, and pointed at the comfortable chair which was Maigwair’s usual choice. “So, since he’s going to assume we’re plotting anyway, I suppose we might as well get to it. Exactly what’s on that ‘same page’ in your thinking?”
“Well, the first thing—”
* * *
“I thought you’d assured us Walkyr was the man for this command, Allayn,” Zhaspahr Clyntahn said sourly.
“I told you he was at least as good as any other commander we might have assigned and that Earl Rainbow Waters specifically requested him,” Maigwair corrected in a cool tone. “Having said that, however, yes. I did think he was the best man for the command, and nothing that’s happened has changed my opinion.”
“Then you may be even more incompetent than I thought!” Clyntahn snarled. “The man’s fighting from fortified positions against enemies coming at him in the open and he’s still telling us he’ll have to retreat!”
“That sort of thing happens when the other side can float around up in the sky and see every damned thing you do on the ground,” Maigwair riposted. “And as if that weren’t bad enough, a third of his troops—and more like two-thirds of his artillery—hadn’t arrived when the enemy attacked. Under the circumstances, frankly, I’m amazed he hasn’t already retreated! That is covered in the strategy Earl Rainbow Waters put together—and explained to all of us in his dispatches—when we pulled Silken Hills off the Talmar Front and sent him south.”
“Those arrangements were part of Rainbow Waters’ interim plans!” the Grand Inquisitor shot back. “I didn’t see anything in there about running the hell away now that Walkyr’s had time to settle into those positions!”
“He hasn’t had a whole lot of time to settle in,” Maigwair pointed out. “For that matter, half his band commanders have had only a few months to learn how to command and handle their troops. Even the best musician’s music depends on how well tuned his instrument is, you know.”
“What a wonderful analogy!” Clyntahn sneered. “How long did you spend thinking it up before you just tossed it off?”
Maigwair only gazed at him levelly, disdaining any response and Clyntahn’s already angry expression grew even tighter.
“Zhaspahr, Earl Rainbow Waters’ dispatches all emphasize how hard Archbishop Militant Gustyv and his men are fighting for every inch of ground,” Duchairn said. “They simply don’t have enough experienced men and enough artillery to hold their current positions—especially with these new balloons that nobody warned him might be coming—” he was very careful about the emphasis he didn’t put on the last six words, but Clyntahn’s eyes glittered with rage as he continued calmly “—looking down on him. That’s why he’s requested Rainbow Waters’ permission to begin an orderly withdrawal to the positions at Salyk.”
“And what the hell makes you think he’ll stand and fight there?”
“He’s fighting hard right this minute, Zhaspahr,” Duchairn said more sharply, “and so far his troops’ fighting spirit seems to be holding. Frankly, I’m deeply impressed by that, especially given the way the heretics’ new heavy angles are pounding them. But they’ve punched a five-mile hole right through the center of his line at Talmar. They’re pushing troops through it this very minute, and those troops are flanking his main positions. It’s like driving a splitting wedge into a log. Their advance is driving his men on either side of the hole farther and farther apart. At the moment, Brydgmyn’s still holding a line ahead of them with Holy Langhorne Band’s remnants and four divisions from the Army’s reserve—it’s shaky as hell, but it’s there—and it’s preventing the heretics from hooking around into the rear of the divisions on either side of the break. But that line’s being forced to give ground. It’s retreating slowly, for now, but it’s under enormous pressure and the pressure’s getting worse. Eventually, it’s gong to break. And in the meantime, the heretic guns are going right on chewing the hell out of the troops on either side of their salient. Walkyr needs to get those men out of their trenches and dugouts before they turn into deathtraps, and Brydgmyn needs to get his people out of artillery range—and out of sight of those damned balloons—while he reorganizes.”
“They’ll only follow him up and hit him again,” Clyntahn pointed out nastily, once again choosing not to directly address the matter of the balloons none of the Inquisition’s agents had seen coming.
“Of course they will,” Maigwair agreed. “And they’ll pay in blood for every mile … if we let him retreat in good order while his men are still prepared to fight an effective delaying action. If Walkyr just sits there, ‘standing his ground,’ the way Kaitswyrth did at Aivahnstyn, we’ll lose every soldier he has. His center’s already collapsed; Holy Langhorne Band is hanging on by its fingernails And—” he added bitterly “—only because its present line seems to be out of range of the heavy angles … for now. That’s going to change, though, and if we don’t let him plan for an orderly retreat now, before he comes under the same sort of fire that smashed Talmar, we’ll be lucky if any of his units get out. Brydgmyn’s not proposing to run the hell away, Zhaspahr, and neither is Walkyr! They only want authorization to fall back on their terms, at their pace. There are ninety thousand men in the Talmar Line—or there were. Brydgmyn’s already lost something like ten thousand of them. If he’s ordered to hold his ground at any cost, that lets the heretics dictate everything that happens. At that point, Walkyr’ll be lucky to get twenty thousand back … and that twenty thousand will be as brutalized and demoralized as the survivors of the Army of Glacierheart.”
Fresh fury flashed in Clyntahn’s eyes at the reference to Cahnyr Kaitswyrth, but he didn’t fire back instantly. It was remotely possible that was because even he could recognize the simple truth of Maigwair’s statement, Duchairn reflected. Not likely, perhaps, but possible.
“If Walkyr’s so damned understre
ngth and he’s got so few of his frigging guns, what the fuck have the two of you been doing?” the Grand Inquisitor demanded instead. “What about all those thousands of artillery pieces both of you were promising us over the winter?!”
“Quite a few of them are at the front shooting at the heretics right this minute!” Duchairn said much more sharply than he normally addressed Clyntahn when the Grand Inquisitor was clearly working himself into a full-fledged fury. “More of them are strung out along the Holy Langhorne, though. And the reason they are is that we moved Silken Hills south—based primarily on intelligence your ‘Sword Rakurai’ provided—and then the heretic navy completely closed the Gulf of Dohlar. According to the last report I’ve received—it’s the better part of a five-day old, thanks to the fact that it had to be relayed around several breaks in the semaphore chain—there are over four thousand field guns, two hundred heavy angle-guns, and more than ninety thousand rifles in South Harchong waiting to be shipped to the front … except that the heretic navy’s in the way!”
Clyntahn glared at him, and Duchairn braced internally for yet another diatribe against Dohlar and the Earl of Thirsk, but he also continued speaking.
“There were other factors involved, of course. But it just wasn’t possible to get all of the Archbishop Militant’s men and artillery to the front while meeting Silken Hills’ needs as he redeployed. And that was made enormously more complicated by the loss of South Harchong’s production and our own inability to ship men and matériel from the Malansath Bight to the Bay of Bess and then up the Dairnyth-Alyksberg Canal. Allayn and I—and every man on our combined staffs—have had to juggle priorities just get enough food to the front! I don’t have the complete numbers in front of me, but there are at least—at least, Zhaspahr—eighteen hundred artillery pieces and almost as many rocket launchers stuck along the Holy Langhorne, still trying to get forward. And all of those weapons were already supposed to be in Walkyr’s hands!”
Clyntahn’s glare could have ignited a condemned heretic’s pyre, but then he drew a deep breath and shoved himself farther back into his chair.
“If Walkyr can fall back, why can’t Rainbow Waters move troops up from his own reserve to support him where he is, instead?” His eyes were still fiery, but his tone actually approached one of reason.
“The north-south road net—such as it is—behind the Mighty Host’s front isn’t good.” Maigwair’s own tone was less confrontational as if in recognition of Clyntahn’s version of what passed for self-restraint. “Rainbow Waters spent a lot of time over the winter and spring improving it as much as he could, but there are limits to what engineers can do in a high northern winter. We’ve had a little experience of our own with that right here in Zion, you know!”
His grimace was actually close to a smile, but it faded quickly.
“He could move troops and supplies south, but it’s unlikely he could move enough of them rapidly enough to make much difference. It would actually be better to leave the roads behind the Army of the Center clear for it to fall back in an orderly fashion in case Walkyr has to retreat from Salyk than to clog them with troops and wagon trains that can’t get there in time to make a difference anyway.
“But that’s only part of Rainbow Waters’ problem. He’s coming under increasingly heavy pressure north of the Tarikah Forest, too.
“After Green Valley’s performance last winter, I don’t think anyone wants to suggest he’s less competent than Eastshare, and it looks like he pushed mounted infantry cross country to cut the roads west of Ayaltyn. They were on the road before anyone realized what he was up to—I imagine those damned balloons helped him choose the best routes for his advance—and that means he’s effectively surrounded Lord of Foot Morning Star’s brigade. That’s another five thousand men gone, and the heretic thrust coming up the North Hildermoss will be past Mardahs within the five-day. It may be headed for Cat-Lizard Lake to reinforce Green Valley, but I don’t think so. I think it’s headed for Sanjhys, and with six or seven ironclads to lead the advance and shoot a way through any opposition, they’ll damned well get there. Rainbow Waters has planted sea-bombs and obstructed the river as thoroughly as he can, but sea-bombs are less reliable than land-bombs and there are no locks between them and Sanjhys.
“That means the troop strength coming upriver will get at least as far as Sanjhys before it’s forced to come ashore. With Green Valley already past Ayaltyn and the river ironclads no more than a few days from Sanjhys, it looks like Rainbow Waters is going to need all of his reserve on his northern flank really soon. According to his last dispatch, he’s already detached one band from his reserve—that’s three Harchongese brigades, or about ten thousand men—to support Gustyv. They’re moving as quickly as they can, but, frankly, it’s unlikely they’ll reach him in time to change the situation south of Salyk. Besides, he’s worried about how quiet his own front’s been south of Ayaltyn. We’ve confirmed that it’s Eastshare’s Army of Westmarch at Talmar, and we’ve identified at least one corps from their Army of the Daivyn at Marylys. But there’s still no sign of Stohnar or the rest of Symkyn’s army. For that matter, the only heretics we’ve actually seen on the ground in the Tymkyn Gap so far appear to be light infantry.”
“‘Light infantry’?” Clyntahn pounced on Maigwair’s final sentence. “What do you mean ‘light infantry’?”
“I mean we haven’t seen any of their mounted infantry, we haven’t seen any of the Siddarmarkians that were transferred to High Mount’s command, and aside from a few battalion-level attacks to take out advanced observation posts and screening positions, he hasn’t launched a single assault.” Maigwair shrugged. “I’m not prepared to say he won’t, but, to be honest, I think we’ve been played by the heretics’ spymasters, Zhaspahr.”
“Meaning what?” Clyntahn’s eyes were slitted, his expression hard.
“Meaning that, coupled with how hard Eastshare’s hit Talmar and the fact that Silken Hills hasn’t seen a single one of their new balloons anywhere near the Tymkyn Gap, I’ve come to the conclusion they deliberately fed us false information to pull Silken Hills south, knowing we’d have to replace him with our own troops in the center.”
Maigwair shrugged, his own expression almost as bitter as Clyntahn’s.
“They know our new divisions can’t have many veterans after last year and that they haven’t had as long to train as Rainbow Waters’ Harchongians,” he continued. “So if they did deliberately draw us into deploying our troops to hold the central part of the front, it was because that’s where they really plan to break it. I can’t prove that yet, but it sure as hell looks like what’s happening. If the strength estimates from Rainbow Waters’ forward commanders are anywhere near accurate, Green Valley’s got somewhere around a hundred thousand men, and this army coming up the Hildermoss is probably another eighty or ninety thousand men strong. That’s a heavy enough attack it may very well be designed to break through on its own, but it could also be intended to pin Rainbow Waters’ left while they punch through the Army of the Center and swing up behind him from the south.
“According to your inquisitors’ best estimates—and understand that my people’s estimates are very close to yours—the heretics have a combined strength of seven or eight hundred thousand men deployed in western Siddarmark, not counting artillery or transport battalions. If Green Valley has—or is about to have—somewhere around two hundred thousand of them, and if Eastshare has about the same number, that still leaves at least another three hundred thousand they haven’t committed yet. At the moment, I’m pretty damned nervous about where those three hundred thousand men are and what they’re planning to do.”
Clyntahn’s face had turned to stone while Maigwair was speaking. It was obvious he didn’t care for the notion that Charis and Siddarmark might have deceived him so thoroughly.
“I have to agree with Allayn and Rainbow Waters, Zhaspahr,” Duchairn said quietly. “I don’t know whether the heretics managed to fool us or whether they sim
ply realized what we were doing—we’ve had ample proof of how good their spies are—and decided to take advantage of it.” Clyntahn looked at him, and the treasurer shrugged. “As Allayn’s just pointed out, whether we want to admit it or not, the Harchongians are likely to be tougher than our new divisions. If their spies told them we’d started moving Harchongese troops south—and replacing them with the Army of God in the center—they may have decided to switch their own plans and hit us there rather than carry through with their original intentions in the south. In a lot of ways, it doesn’t really matter which it was. What matters is that it appears to be what they’re actually doing.”
He waited, hoping the combination of logic and the sop to Clyntahn’s pride might carry the day. Personally, he was convinced Maigwair was right; the Charisians and Siddarmarkians had played them from the beginning. But if Clyntahn wanted to believe they’d changed strategies in response to his brilliant intelligence coup, that was fine with Duchairn … as long as he was willing to listen to the voice of sanity afterward.
“If that’s their plan, then surely it’s more important than ever for Walkyr to hold his positions as far east—and south—as possible to protect Rainbow Waters’ right flank,” Clyntahn replied after several seconds.
“If he can, then, yes,” Maigwair agreed. “But if he can’t, it becomes even more important to authorize him to retreat, because Rainbow Waters will need every man if the heretics manage to turn this into a mobile battle. That would’ve been true under any circumstances, given their advantages in mounted infantry. If their balloons are mobile enough to keep up with their mounted infantry, it’s going to be even worse, though. That’s why we can’t afford to lose the ninety thousand men spread out between Talmar and Salyk. We just can’t.”
Maigwair leaned back in his chair, bracing his forearms on the armrests, and his expression was very serious as he met Clyntahn’s eyes.
“This is almost certainly the decisive campaign, Zhaspahr,” he said quietly. “If we lose it, then from a military perspective, we also lose the Jihad. I’m not going to tell you God and the Archangels can’t still show us a road to victory, because if They choose to do that, then of course They can. But if the heretics succeed in destroying or crippling the Mighty Host and the Army of the Center, any road They show us will have to rely on something besides our military capabilities. My men—our men—and Rainbow Waters’ Harchongians are fighting hard. I believe they’ll continue to fight just as hard for every scrap of ground. But if we lose them, we lose the Jihad. That’s why our commanders at the front have to have the flexibility to make strategic withdrawals if that’s what it takes to avoid their troops’ destruction.”