At the Sign of Triumph (Safehold)

.VII.

Lake City,

Tarikah Province,

Republic of Siddarmark;

and

The Temple,

City of Zion,

The Temple Lands.

“The latest dispatches from Earl Silken Hills, My Lord.”

Earl Rainbow Waters looked up as his nephew deposited a thick stack of paper on his desk. It was raining hard outside his office, raindrops pounding on the roof like galloping cavalry. It was barely midafternoon, yet it was hard to see East Wing Lake through the downpour, and he heard the rumble of distant thunder, like some grim echo of the thunder rumbling in the Tymkyn Gap.

“Shall I assume you would already have informed me of anything unexpected?” he inquired, sitting back and freshening his cup of tea.

“I’d say the only unexpected thing is that none of us anticipated Earl High Mount would spend quite this much time preparing the way for his assault,” Baron Wind Song replied, shaking his head.

“I feel much the same,” Rainbow Waters acknowledged. “Has Silken Hills included an updated report on the state of his fortifications?”

“He has.” Wind Song sorted through the stack of dispatches for a moment, until he found the one he wanted. “Here it is, Uncle. I’ve glanced through it, but it’s very similar to his engineers’ previous estimates. Apparently, Captain of Horse Rungwyn’s fortifications are even more resistant than we’d expected.”

Rainbow Waters held out his hand. His nephew placed the report in it, and the earl flipped through it quickly, lips pursed in a thoughtful frown. He came to the end and laid it aside to reach for his teacup and sip pensively.

“Well,” he said finally, “it’s gratifying to discover that the intelligence upon which our deployments is based may actually be accurate.”

He had not, Wind Song noted, added the words “for once” to his statement.

“And if Eastshare and Green Valley truly intend to force the issue in the south, Silken Hills may very well be right about the reasoning behind this deliberate artillery assault. But it’s been four days now, and it seems evident their artillery is proving less effective than our artillery proved when we tested it against the Captain of Horse’s works.” He sipped more tea. “I must admit I’m surprised—gratified, but surprised—by that. Perhaps we’ve overestimated the effectiveness of their artillery in general. Not that I intend to leap to any such conclusion until we’ve seen what happens in an open field battle.”

Wind Song nodded, and the earl frowned thoughtfully for several more minutes.

“The thing which perplexes me, however, is that both Green Valley and Eastshare have abundantly demonstrated their flexibility, their ability—and willingness—to modify plans in the face of … operational realities. If Silken Hills’ works are proving more resistant than they’d anticipated, why haven’t they attempted something elsewhere? The campaigning season is short, and even shorter here in the north than in the south. I would have expected them to attempt to force the issue here if their original plan is bogging down there.”

“That thought had occurred to me,” Wind Song admitted. “At the same time, My Lord, it would surely be a mistake to ascribe superhuman powers to Green Valley and Eastshare. Or to the rest of their commanders, for that matter.”

“Superhuman or not, they have a remarkable record of successes,” Rainbow Waters pointed out. “The Siddarmarkians suffered disasters in plenty during the ‘Sword of Schueler,’ and the Army of God advanced almost entirely across the Republic in only two or three months. But aside from what happened to their Brigadier Taisyn on the Daivyn—and it must be painfully obvious to any but the most bigoted that he and his men understood fully from the very beginning that theirs could be only a forlorn hope—the Charisians have enjoyed a virtually unbroken chain of victories. Decisive victories, I might add, and they won none of them by ‘playing it safe.’” He shook his head. “Their tendency to always seize the initiative, to drive home an attack and make their opponents react to them, has served them well. Audacity isn’t always a virtue. It could be argued that it was the primary contributor to the handful of naval defeats they’ve suffered, after all, and no one can count on being lucky every time. But it sticks in my mind, Medyng. I still think they should have concentrated their major effort here, in the north, driving for the Holy Langhorne. It … bothers me that they chose otherwise, however convincing the logic behind what they actually decided to do instead. And it bothers me even more that they haven’t punched with their right hand if their left hand is blocked. This reminds me of the story of the spider monkey and the tar puppet, and Green Valley, for one, is far too astute to punch both hands into the same tar.”

“I understand, Uncle. And under other circumstances, I’d share your concerns to the full. Indeed, I do share them. But the fact remains that they’re doing precisely what all of our spy reports told us they would. And as you’ve pointed out many times, this year’s campaign is different, for both sides. We both have much larger armies in the field, there’s far more artillery on both sides, and the Mighty Host and Archbishop Militant Gustyv’s Army of the Center are far better dug in, equipped, and supplied than anything they’ve tackled yet. Not only that, but I think it’s important to remember they’ve managed that ‘virtually unbroken chain of victories’ in no small part by picking their targets very carefully and by capitalizing on the opposing commanders’ weaknesses.”

“I believe it might be argued that that wasn’t the case with Bishop Militant Bahrnabai,” his uncle said dryly. “I seem to recall a somewhat audacious naval expedition halfway across the continent using canals. That’s the sort of … improvisational adaptability I’ve come to expect out of them.”

“And far better to expect the worst than simply hope for the best,” Wind Song agreed. “That was rather a case of desperation as much as anything else, though. I can’t begin to count the things that could have gone wrong, but if they hadn’t mounted the operation, it’s highly likely the Bishop Militant would have carried through and taken Serabor as soon as he’d been reinforced. It worked, and it was conceptually brilliant and flawlessly executed, but I’m positive it wasn’t something even Charisians wanted to attempt.

“In the case of the Army of Shiloh and Bishop Militant Cahnyr, however, they clearly understood the minds and prejudices of their opponents. Although it’s obvious they selectively fed Duke Harless the false information that helped draw him into his false position at Fort Tairys, what they provided was effective because it ‘proved’ what he wanted to be true. That sort of ploy depends upon the … gullibility of its victim, and with all due modesty, Duke Harless was perhaps a tenth as smart as you are, and with the exception of Ahlverez, his subordinates seem to have been no more than half as smart as I am.” Wind Song smiled briefly. “As for Bishop Militant Cahnyr, Eastshare had defeated him inside his own mind in the Ahstynwood and on the Daivyn long before they actually attacked him at Aivahnstyn. I venture to suggest to you that I know very few people less defeated in their own minds than you, Uncle.”

“I see all those years studying courtly speech and Shang-mi ‘logic’ have left their mark,” Rainbow Waters said even more dryly. “I’m tempted to tell you to wash your mouth out with soap!”

He smiled at Wind Song’s chuckle, but then shook his head.

“There’s much in what you say,” he said more seriously. “Especially given what Silken Hills has reported about the resilience of his field fortifications. And perhaps you’re right. Perhaps I am allowing my … profound respect for Green Valley and Eastshare too much weight.”

“Uncle,” Wind Song said soberly, “there’s no living man whose judgment I respect more than yours, but consider this, as well. No one in history has ever attempted to maneuver armies the size of those presently in the field. Certainly no one’s ever tried to coordinate an offensive campaign by over seven hundred thousand men against a defending force twice that size! The most redoubtable commander in the world is bound to find that a … nontrivial challenge. Should it really be surprising if their footwork is a little slower than Green Valley managed with barely forty thousand men winter before last?”

“No, not surprising,” Rainbow Waters agreed.

“Well, assuming the information the Grand Inquisitor’s spy obtained was accurate—and everything they’ve done so far seems to suggest it was—their entire operational plan for the summer depends on breaking through in the south and then curling up to the north to get in behind us. And the campaign season south of Sardahn and Usher is at least a month and a half longer than it is north of Sardahn.”

“You’re saying they might well be content to sit where they are in the north?” his uncle said slowly.

“We’ve discussed often enough just how crucial this campaign is.” Wind Song’s voice was as grim as his eyes. “You and I both know how … difficult Mother Church has found it to sustain the Jihad this long. And despite the fact that we haven’t had access to the raw reports, it’s obvious the productivity of Charis’ manufactories is continuing to climb. There’s no doubt in my mind that they desire a decisive victory over the Mighty Host this year above all things. Yet they must be as well aware as we are of the way in which time favors them, not us. They’d be foolish to assume that state of affairs would apply forever, but it’s unlikely to change anytime soon. So perhaps it would make sense to them to withhold that punch with their right hand even until next year, if they must, if they truly hope to get behind us with their left. And as slowly as their offensive in the Tymkyn Gap is proceeding, they still have ample time for someone as mobile as they’ve proven themselves to be to break through and get at least as far north as Jhurlahnk or even Ultyne before weather forces them to suspend operations. And if they succeed in seizing complete control of the Gulf of Dohlar and the Bay of Bess, keeping forces in Faralas, Jhurlahnk, or even Usher supplied would be relatively easy for the Charisian merchant marine.”

“Now that, Medyng, is a very unpleasant line of speculation.”

Rainbow Waters sipped at his tea, gazing at something only he could see. Then he set the cup gently down and shook his head.

“It’s a very unpleasant line of speculation, and you may well be correct,” he said. “Certainly it would make sense out of their southern strategy, but my instincts continue to insist they mean to attack in the north, as well. I must confess that it’s largely because of my respect for their … audacity. Indeed, there’s a part of me that finds it most difficult to believe Green Valley, in particular, could possibly resist the challenge of proving he can, indeed, force the positions we’ve erected against him. Still, whatever my instincts may say, logic suggests your analysis is very probably more accurate than my own at this time. Which, after all, is one of the reasons I keep you around. Unlike most of my subordinates, you remain a headstrong, intemperate, overly clever young sprout, entirely too full of your own opinions and willing to tell me—in the most disrespectful tones imaginable, if necessary—when you … find yourself in disagreement with me.”

“Mother did say something to me about making sure your head would still fit into your hats when you came home again, Uncle,” the baron murmured.

“No doubt she did.” Rainbow Waters smiled fondly at his nephew, then straightened with an air of briskness. “No doubt she did, but now it’s time for you to earn your princely salary by writing up a synopsis and an analysis of Earl Silken Hills’ reports. Without inserting any intemperate observations of your own into the narrative, mind you. Do you think you could have something ready for my signature by tomorrow at dinner?”

“I may have something considerably sooner than that, Uncle. Would you like me to draft it as an endorsement of Silken Hills’ analysis?”

“I think … yes,” Rainbow Waters said slowly. “At the same time, however, be certain to enclose an addendum detailing our current analysis of Green Valley’s deployments. I imagine Vicar Allayn will be astute enough to draw the proper conclusion without our belaboring the point.”

There was a faint but unmistakable of warning in his tone, and Wind Song nodded. It was readily apparent from discussions with Archbishop Militant Gustyv that the Grand Inquisitor was heavily invested in the intelligence coup which had alerted them to the southern strategy. It could be … less than wise to imply anything which suggested the heretics could be flexible enough to depart from it at what Vicar Zhaspahr would consider to be the drop of a hat. If nothing else, it might erode the Grand Inquisitor’s confidence in the Mighty Host’s leadership. The consequences if he should lose faith in Rainbow Waters’ judgment could well be catastrophic, and not simply for the earl and his family.

And he’s certainly right about Vicar Allayn’s ability to read between the lines. For that matter, Vicar Rhobair’s no novice at doing the same.

“I believe I understand, Uncle,” he said aloud and bowed slightly. “With your permission, I’ll go gather my clerks and get started drafting it immediately.”

* * *

“So it would appear Zhaspahr was right.”

Rhobair Duchairn refrained from adding the words “for once,” but they were clearly audible anyway. Allayn Maigwair didn’t reply immediately. He finished chewing the bite he’d just taken from his wyvern-breast sandwich, washed it down with a swallow of beer, and nodded.

“So far, at least,” he said then. “I can’t decide from Rainbow Waters’ dispatches whether he’s more gratified High Mount’s performing according to projections or more irritated Cayleb and Stohnar seem to’ve been too stupid to do the smart thing and attack him.” The captain general shrugged. “Frankly, I’m more relieved than anything else. Gustyv’s most recent reports haven’t exactly inspired me with boundless confidence about his part of the front. He’s in pretty good shape at Talmar, but Selyk’s a lot more wobbly, and he’s still got less than half his cavalry up to support his front lines. We really could’ve used another month or so to get the rest of his troops to him.”

It was Duchairn’s turn to nod, and he grimaced in understanding. Gustyv Walkyr’s troop movements had been seriously disrupted—and driven even farther behind schedule—by the Imperial Charisian Navy’s activities in the Gulf of Dohlar. Those activities hadn’t impinged directly upon Walkyr, but their “ripple effect” on the Church’s overall logistics had forced Duchairn and Maigwair to juggle all of their transport priorities. They’d done their best to support Walkyr as fully as possible, but as more and more evidence of the extent to which the Charisians and Siddarmarkians were reinforcing their southern flank continued to roll in, they’d been forced to give even higher priority to bolstering Silken Hills. Neither of them was happy about what that meant for Walkyr’s Army of the Center, and it was a vast relief to discover the Inquisition’s intelligence reports had been accurate after all. Still, the treasurer couldn’t rid himself of a certain lingering sense of concern.

“What do you think about the point Rainbow Waters raised about Green Valley and Eastshare?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Maigwair admitted frankly. “It sounds like the most reasonable explanation, though. If they really have decided to push through the Tymkyn Gap and hook up from the south, it probably makes sense for them to delay any attacks in the north until they know whether or not that’s going to work. Frankly, I have to agree with what Rainbow Waters seems to be suggesting here. I would’ve expected them to at least try some diversionary attacks farther north, too. On the other hand, there are a few indications Symkyn’s moving towards the Reklair Gap. If he is, he’s doing it very quietly, which could mean they hope he can take us by surprise when he attacks there. That might also explain why High Mount doesn’t seem to be in a tearing hurry to hit Tymkyn Gap with any massive infantry attacks. No doubt he is trying to batter his way through—which looks like being a long-term challenge, given how rapidly Silken Hills’ engineers make repairs every night—but he may well be waiting for Symkyn to be fully prepared to launch his own attack farther north. Or, for that matter, Symkyn might be waiting for High Mount’s attack to break through before he launches his own.”

The captain general shook his head in irritation and dipped a fried potato slice in ketchup.

“All I can say for sure,” he said, waving the potato slice at Duchairn, “is that I’m just delighted they aren’t hitting Gustyv’s positions, and that so far, at least, they seem to be doing pretty much what all those spy reports said they were going to do. I only hope they go right on performing according to script.”