At the Sign of Triumph (Safehold)

.III.

Earl Rainbow Waters’ Headquarters,

City of Chyzwail,

West Wing Lake,

Tarikah Province,

Republic of Siddarmark.

“You sent for me, Uncle?”

Taychau Daiyang looked up from the endless stream of reports and rubbed his eyes as Baron Wind Song entered his office. That office had once belonged to the Mayor of Chyzwail, but the mayor didn’t need it anymore … and Earl Rainbow Waters did.

“Yes, I did,” he said, and pointed at the chair beside his desk. “Sit.”

Wind Song obeyed, and if his expression was calm, his eyes were worried. The silver streaks in his uncle’s dark hair had grown far broader, and although he remained immaculately groomed, his eyes were red rimmed from too little sleep and too much reading, too much poring over maps and orders of battle. He’d always been a physically robust man, but his hands had developed a tremor. It was still a tiny thing, one only the eyes of someone who knew him very well might have noticed, but Wind Song did know him.

“I’ve been reading our dispatches from home,” Rainbow Waters said after a moment. “And from Zion.” Their eyes met, and the earl shrugged ever so slightly. “It seems matters are coming to a head—here at the front, I mean, of course.”

“Of course,” his nephew agreed.

“I’m not certain everyone back in Zion and Shang-mi fully understands the gravity of our position here,” Rainbow Waters continued after a moment. “Oh, they clearly understand that Green Valley and Klymynt are pressing us hard here in Tarikah, but I’ve just received a report that Eastshare’s mounted infantry have occupied Bauskum. Charisian mounted patrols have been spotted by our Ferey River pickets as well, and there are reports his scout snipers are reconnoitering around Rainyr’s Hollow.”

Wind Song’s face tightened. Rainyr’s Hollow was a small farming town—a ghost town, now, like every other village and town in this part of Tarikah—barely a hundred miles by road from the Sairmeet-Gleesyn High Road. For that matter, it was little more than a hundred and fifty air-miles from Chyzwail. Once upon a time, a hundred and fifty miles would have offered a comfortable degree of security, but Charisian mounted infantry, balloons, mobile field artillery, and infantry angle-guns had changed that.

“We can’t say which way his main body will advance, but from all reports, Bishop Militant Lainyl will be forced to surrender at Mercyr any day now. Coupled with Eastshare’s activity, that strongly suggests it will be Golden Tree’s turn at Sairmeet next. He’s already under heavy pressure from Stohnar from the east. If Eastshare swings in behind him as he did to Brygham at Mercyr, the consequences would be … unfortunate.”

That’s certainly one way to describe the collapse of our most critical blocking position, Wind Song thought.

“The Baron has requested permission to begin planning for a withdrawal,” Rainbow Waters said. “I’ve granted it with, of course, the understanding that he must hold his ground as long as he reasonably can.”

“Of course.” Wind Song nodded. “May I ask if Bishop Merkyl has countersigned that permission?”

“I haven’t yet had the opportunity to discuss it with the Bishop,” Rainbow Waters said. “I’m confident that, when I do, he’ll find himself in agreement.”

Wind Song nodded again, although he wouldn’t have cared to wager on the Mighty Host’s intendant’s agreeing to anything of the sort. Merkyl Sahndhaim had grown steadily more querulous as the situation worsened. It couldn’t be very much longer before he began countermanding Rainbow Waters’ decisions rather than simply criticizing them, at which point.…

“As I say,” Rainbow Waters went on after a moment, “I’ve also been reading the correspondence from Zion and Shang-mi. The letters from the capital, in particular, cause me some small concern. It’s essential that we continue moving troops forward. While I remain fully confident of the Mighty Host’s fighting spirit, the possibility that we may be forced to retreat to the far side of the Tairohn Hills, or even as far as the Kingdom of Hoth, must be faced. Should that happen, we’ll need every man we can get to bolster our new front.”

He paused, regarding his nephew for several seconds, until Wind Song nodded. In fact, of course, if they were forced back that far, there weren’t enough reinforcements in all of Harchong to save the Jihad. Far too much of the Mighty Host’s irreplaceable artillery would have to be abandoned in the face of the obscenely mobile Charisians, and losses in small arms were already far beyond anything the Church could quickly replace.

“I’m not confident His Majesty’s ministers have a proper sense of urgency in this matter,” Rainbow Waters resumed once Wind Song had nodded. “Accordingly, I’ve composed a detailed report, laying out our current status and my best projections and earnestly urging them to expedite troop movements to the very best of their ability. Given the vital importance of the entire matter, I’ve also decided that rather than relying upon the semaphore, it’s necessary to send an officer of sufficient stature—and one sufficiently familiar with my thinking to answer any questions—to deliver my messages in person.”

Wind Song stiffened in his chair. It was over six thousand miles for a wyvern from Chyzwail to Shang-mi. The battle for West Wing Lake would be decided five-days before any messenger could reach the capital.

“I’m sure I can find the proper messenger, Uncle,” the baron said, holding Rainbow Waters’ eyes levelly.

“In my view, there’s really only one choice,” Rainbow Waters replied. “Of all of my staff officers and aides, you’re the one most fully privy to my thinking.”

“Which is precisely the reason I can be least readily spared.” Wind Song’s gaze never wavered.

“I must insist upon making my own determinations in this matter,” his uncle said sternly. “I’m quite prepared to make it a direct order.”

“I would most respectfully urge you not to do that, My Lord. It would grieve me to defy your wishes.”

“It would not be my wish, Baron Wind Song. It would be my direct order as your superior.”

“In which case I would most regretfully be forced to resign my commission. After which, of course, your orders would no longer be applicable to me.”

“Some might consider your resignation an act of cowardice in the face of the enemy!”

“It would be difficult to construe it that way, My Lord,” Wind Song said serenely, “when I then volunteered to serve in the ranks.”

Rainbow Waters glared at him for several tense seconds. Then his shoulders slumped.

“Please, Medyng,” he said, and his voice had frayed around the edges. “I promised your mother I would bring her son home to her.”

“And I promised to bring her brother home, My Lord,” Wind Song said softly. “I’ve never in my life done anything as important as what you and the Mighty Host are doing right here, right now. And I’ve never felt so privileged as I have to serve as your aide while you do it. There are no words to express my pride in you, Uncle, so I won’t embarrass both of us by trying. But I will be here at your side, whether as an officer or a common trooper, to the end, whatever that end may be.”

Their eyes held, and then, slowly, Rainbow Waters smiled. It was a sad smile, but genuine, and he shook his head.

“Your grandmother always said I was the most stubborn of her children,” he said then. “Personally, I always believed she was wrong, since your mother was always far stubborner than I. It would appear she’s passed that trait on to you, as well.”

“I believe she’s said something to that effect to me herself, Uncle.”

“An excellent judge of character, your mother.” Rainbow Waters nodded, then drew a deep breath and picked up one of the heaped folders on his blotter.

“Very well, Captain of Horse Wind Song, I’ll send my dispatches by semaphore … for whatever they’re worth. In the meantime, please review this estimate of the portability of the heretics’ balloons and give me your thoughts on it.”