Despite the encouraging tally, as Vespasian looked around the valley again his expression saddened. Unable to understand why, Persephone gave her husband a questioning look.
“What troubles you, my love?” she asked. “In only a few more days we will have sent more gold home than we could ever have imagined! Who knew that it would be so easily harvested? Your campaign is a towering success!”
“Perhaps,” he answered. “Even so, our problems have not ended.” Vespasian shook his head.
“It’s this place, Persephone,” he said quietly. “We must tarry here because the gold lies here. But as a military stronghold, this valley is a nightmare. We must soon decide how long to stay and loot the fields, because every moment that passes brings us that much closer to engaging the Shashidans. If they somehow close off both ends of the valley—”
“A necessary gamble, my liege,” Lucius said. “We have legions posted at both the northern and southern valley entrances. At the first sign of the Shashidans, our forces will engage them, and they will personally inform us by way of one of the azure portals. You may put your entire trust in them. They have never failed us.”
“I know, I know,” Vespasian answered, rubbing his brow. His heart was filled with a strange blend of euphoria and impending doom, and the conflicting emotions showed on his face. “It’s not a matter of whether the Shashidans come, but when. They’ll divide their forces, then try to seal off both ends of the valley, I’m sure of it.”
“How can you be so certain?” Persephone asked.
“Because that’s what I would do,” Vespasian answered grimly. “A schoolchild could grasp its effectiveness! But there’s more to my worries. Being imprisoned between these imposing peaks makes me wonder whether our campaign plan should be changed.”
“To what end?” Lucius asked.
“Persephone said it best,” Vespasian answered. “Because we can simply pluck the gold from nature as one might harvest fruit from a tree, our work proceeds exceedingly fast. Soon we will have sent more gold home to Ellistium than we ever dreamed possible. Perhaps we should then abandon this valley and move on, for it is too far away from home for us to hold as conquered territory. I long for the maneuvering room that only being away from these imposing peaks can afford. Here in this valley we toil like rats in a trap.”
“There is little else that we can do for now,” Lucius said. “I suggest that we review the process for sending the gold home. More than anything else, it will remind us why we ventured into this barbaric land.”
Letting go a short smile, Vespasian nodded. “Very well,” he said to Lucius. “Lead on.”
The trio sauntered along the Alarik toward one of the many staging areas where the gold was being weighed and the sums tallied before being shipped home. Many such stations lay up and down the length of the valley. Despite the hundreds of thousands of eager legionnaires working away, Vespasian knew that even if his forces toiled here for months, they couldn’t harvest a fraction of the massive Shashidan deposits. Although their take would be vast, in a strange way that knowledge also disheartened him.
In the end, what will we have accomplished? he wondered as he walked. No matter how much gold his legions took from this place, the amount would be finite. He could imagine the imperial coffers back in Ellistium full to overflowing as never before. But for how long would the plunder last?
Unless he struck Shashida a fatal blow here and now, not even the Pon Q’tar could predict how long the War of Attrition might continue. Given the great wealth of this valley, Shashida might be able to finance her war needs endlessly. Soldiers and weapons of war were replaceable, up to a point. But because Rustannica’s indigenous gold deposits were nearing depletion, Rustannica could again become a victim of her own successes, and even the stolen gold reserves would one day be used up.
Taking Ryoto was the key, he knew. If he could kill the members of the Chikara Inkai and the Kokkai Kokumen, the total defeat of Shashida would soon follow. But how much gold should be harvested before he ordered this valley abandoned? And when he did, in what direction should he send his legions—homeward to safety, or onward toward Ryoto and an uncertain future?
At first his goal had been only to send as much gold as possible to Ellistium, then retreat homeward to fight this war another day and with vastly renewed strength. But no Rustannican force in history had advanced this close to Ryoto. Taking the Shashidan capital was so tempting that he knew he must strategize only with his head, not his heart. Then Vespasian smiled wryly as he remembered that being on campaign was always a far different and far uglier thing than was proposing it to the Suffragat in the luxurious surroundings of the Aedifficium.
Were his legions’ recent successes due to luck, he wondered, or were the Shashidans cleverly drawing him in? Now that his new gifts had been realized and Ryoto lay before him, should he continue this fight to its finish? That was what Gracchus wanted. And what of the Jin’Sai? he wondered. If Tristan reached Shashida, he was surely in Ryoto, plotting with the Chikara Inkai. As Gracchus said, there would be no better time for Vespasian to kill the Jin’Sai than now, hopefully before the Vigors mystics could imbue Tristan’s blood with spells that might match his own…
“Here we are,” Lucius announced, returning Vespasian to the issue at hand. “What say you, my liege? It goes well, don’t you think?”
The scene before them was amazing in its scope and efficiency. No other force on earth could accomplish so much so fast, Vespasian realized as he watched his legionnaires and mystics go about their unique labors.
Like the many other staging areas dotting the valley, this one was supervised by a tribune. Vespasian knew Antonius Tertia well, as they had served together on many campaigns. As the Lead Tribune of the Thirty-third Legion, Antonius had acquired a fearsome battle reputation, and like Lucius he was a legendary womanizer. Tall and broad, he wore a great red beard. Like the other legionnaires toiling under the hot Shashidan sun, he had stripped down to his waist, and his bare skin shone with the sweat of his labors. As the trio approached he did not look up, involved as he was in recording the latest tallies in a beeswax diptych.
Vespasian smiled. “Are you so greedy to collect Shashidan gold that you have no words for an old friend?” he chided the tribune.
Looking up from his book, Antonius smiled back and gave the three visitors a perfect salute.
“Indeed not, my liege!” he said robustly. “Your visit is an honor!”
After paying his respects to the empress and Lucius, Antonius gestured toward the amazing sight. “Impressive, is it not?” he asked. “All of this gold, ours for the taking!”
As the legionnaires harvested the gold by hand from the riverbeds and mountainsides, it was loaded onto horse-drawn carts. The six-horse teams then drew the gold toward larger wagons. The larger wagons measured ten meters long by five meters wide and were built of stout Rustannican oak with iron-braced floors. When filled to the brim, each cart carried about ten tons of pure gold. Then each cart was pulled by a team of six great beasts into the azure portal located at each staging area, where it was sent by way of the craft to Ellistium. There the cart was unloaded, and it and its beasts were returned to the valley by tribune mystics under the command of Flavius Maximus, Vespasian’s choice as Imperator Tempitatus.
Suddenly Vespasian heard a great noise and turned to look. The Bedevilers seem unusually ill-tempered today, he thought. Smiling, he watched the great beasts that stood harnessed to the larger carts, impatiently waiting as the carts were filled.
Bedevilers were massive creatures that had been conjured by the Pon Q’tar to serve a variety of wartime purposes. Standing ten meters tall, each creature stood upon four huge cloven hooves. Their powerful legs allowed them to run swiftly if need be and to move great loads. They possessed dark, shaggy bodies that were stout and powerful, and they had thick, bull-like necks. Their wide heads were also bovine in nature, with long black horns and dark eyes set far apart. Another long, sharp horn me
ant for stabbing enemy troops and throwing them into the air extended from either side of the beasts’ pink snouts.
Bulls were revered in Rustannica for their strength, loyalty, and fertility, and sacrificing one to the Vagaries was considered a sacred rite. It was for those same qualities that the Pon Q’tar chose bulls as the template for these creatures that served the mighty legions so well. Each Bedeviler carried a roofed wooden platform strapped to its wide back. Each platform could accommodate ten legionnaires or mystic tribunes at one time. Huge leather bridles adorned the Bedevilers’ heads, the reins leading back to the legionnaire controlling the great beast from the protection of the roofed platform.
Vespasian smiled as he watched the nearest team of Bedevilers snort and paw at the ground while they waited for their cart to be loaded. They could be impatient, ill-tempered beasts and quite difficult to control. Each Bedeviler had one mystic master who oversaw its training and use, and several lesser legionnaires who saw to its care and feeding. Aside from being the perfect beasts of burden, Bedevilers also provided excellent platforms from which legionnaires could hurl azure bolts or use the craft to shoot perfectly aimed arrows.
Their tough hides nearly impervious to any weapon other than one born of the craft, the beasts had been known to charge through Shashidan forces with abandon, causing havoc and crushing katsugai mosota by the scores in their wakes, thereby earning their names. If needed, they could be relied on to mow down trees as they cleared pathways for Vespasian’s foot soldiers. They were highly valuable tools of war and perfectly suited to the task of hauling the captured Shashidan gold toward the waiting portals. As he stood watching them, for the thousandth time Vespasian found himself glad that they were not servants of the Shashidan cohorts.
Again opening the diptych, Vespasian took another glance at the gold tally inscribed at the bottom of the single beeswax page. His legions had been at the task for but one day and half of the next, but the tonnage was already huge, most of it safely in Ellistium’s coffers and loyally guarded by Flavius Maximus and his home legions. Balancing his nation’s pecuniary needs against the greater objective, Vespasian made a fateful decision. He handed the diptych back to Lucius.
“I will permit the legionnaires to harvest gold for the rest of today and all of tomorrow,” Vespasian told Lucius. “When dawn rises the day after next, I want this entire army ready to move. Whatever gold has been sent home by then will simply have to suffice.”
“As you order, my liege,” Lucius answered. He gave his friend and emperor a wry smile. “May the First Tribune inquire as to our new destination?”
Vespasian thought somberly for a moment before answering.
“Order the Pon Q’tar to prepare portal calculations that will transport our army onto the flat plains south of here, near where the Alarik again divides,” Vespasian answered. “From there we advance on Ryoto. The attack will be risky, but there might never again come such an excellent chance to kill all the Shashidan leaders and the Jin’Sai at the same time.”
As Vespasian’s eyes again scanned the snowy peaks that so worried him, his expression darkened further.
“My heart tells me that Tristan is plotting with the Inkai,” he said softly. “Since the days that we were born, our meeting was meant to be. Let us finally make it so.”
CHAPTER XLVI
PULLING HER STRONG WINGS THROUGH THE EVENING air, Sigrid soared eastward high above Eutracia. The night was clear, allowing her an excellent view of the ground below. Perhaps more than any other Minion, she was the one most eager to begin this fight. More important, she considered it her personal mission to ensure that Valda and the twenty-eight other members of the Night Witch patrol she once commanded had not died in vain. Our revenge will be sweet, she thought as her dark eyes scanned the Sippora River slipping by beneath her.
Despite her broken arm, soon after she reported back from the slaughter in Tanglewood she had begged Traax for command of another Night Witch group. Traax had agreed heartily, adding that although her group had perished, no one considered her personally responsible for the defeat. In fact, her service and bravery had been exemplary, he said. It was because of these qualities that she had been given the honor of leading this vastly important war party through the night. Although her fellow Minions saw her as a hero, Sigrid did not share that opinion. For her, this new command was a rare opportunity to redeem her honor, and she would sooner die than waste it.
Looking rearward, she saw her twenty-nine new Night Witches steadfastly following her. Rather than accept command of an established group, Sigrid had requested only Minion females whose specialized Night Witch training was still incomplete, so that she might mold them to her liking. After Traax granted her request, Sigrid hand-picked the twenty-nine who would become hers. Despite her injured arm, Sigrid had been training these women since the Tanglewood slaughter, and they were ready to serve. Sigrid had learned much from that fight, and in some ways her new group was superior to the one she lost. Their new war cry “Remember Tanglewood!” was heard each time her group took to the skies and went on patrol.
Show yourself, Khristos, she thought as the cool evening air rushed past her face. This time you will not find my warriors to be such easy prey.
Half the entire Minion force followed her lead, six of them carrying a litter bearing Shailiha, Faegan, and Traax. Determined never to make the same mistake again, Shailiha ordered that Aeolus, Duvessa, Sister Adrian, all the consuls and acolytes, and the other half of the Minion force remain behind to guard the palace and the Redoubt. They would be sorely missed in the coming fight, but every Conclave member had agreed with the princess’s decision.
Gambling that Khristos and his vipers were heading toward the coast, the war party had left the palace two hours ago to fly east, following the course of the Sippora River. In truth the Conclave could not know the enemy’s position. But if Khristos and his forces wished to remain unseen, they had no choice but to remain submerged in the Sippora.
That left the Viper Lord only three options. He could remain in the river, he could head upstream and deeper into Eutracia, or he could head downstream toward the sea. Staying in place seemed unlikely, for Khristos surely knew that the section of river where the recent fighting had taken place would be swarming with Minion warriors desperate to kill him and his followers. The enemy might proceed upriver, but Traax had wisely ordered several thousand of his troops to swoop low over the river and continuously dredge its bottom with weighted nets. Khristos could easily use the craft to destroy the nets, the Conclave realized, but if he did, they would know it, and Shailiha’s war party could be called home to deal with him there.
Heading toward the sea was Khristos’ likely choice, the Conclave decided. Perhaps of greatest concern was that the Sea of Whispers would provide a huge place in which Khristos and his Blood Vipers could hide. No longer limited to Eutracia’s rivers, they could travel up and down the length of the Eutracian coastline at will, then surface anywhere of their choosing and travel overland. They could also again slink up the length of the Sippora River, or choose the Vitenka River lying to the south from which to reenter Eutracia.
The theory that Khristos was heading for the sea was but one of several possibilities, but by necessity it must be the first place that the Conclave searched. Once the Viper Lord and his followers were loosed into those waters, all the advantages would be theirs. Searching the sea itself would be pointless, for if Khristos had already managed to reach it he could be lurking anywhere in its depths. And so the Conclave’s search would start at the coast of the Cavalon Delta and backtrack westward along the Sippora’s winding length. It was hoped that Khristos and his vipers would be found somewhere between the delta and where the Minions dredged the Sippora in Tammerland.
Sitting in the speeding litter alongside Faegan and Traax, Shailiha looked eastward with worry. Unlike the many other times when she had faced danger, tonight she felt hesitant. Despite the wondrous help given to the Conclave by the Chik
ara Inkai, the marked absence of so many Conclave members was causing her to feel uneasy, as if an important part of her human arsenal were missing. Abbey’s death had heightened this feeling, as did her brother’s absence. If was as if little by little the membership of the Conclave was being stripped away and she would one day be left all alone to face Eutracia’s foes.
A great portion of her misgivings could be attributed to her infirmities, she knew. Because her body still ached, she had reason to doubt her swordsmanship. Her hampered vision had improved little, and it handicapped her not only physically but psychologically as well. Of necessity she continued to wear the black eye patch, and its presence still caused her to feel freakish and conspicuous. Even so, she staunchly resolved to keep her personal insecurities hidden and to command her forces with decisiveness. Suddenly reminded of her late mother, she closed her eyes.
A queen cannot always let her feelings be known, she thought, even if she is only a queen in waiting. At least this eye patch has taught me that much.
Sensing her discomfort, Faegan reached out to touch her hand. “A kisa for your thoughts,” he said.
She gave him a slight smile. “There’s no need to pay me for my thoughts,” she answered. “You’ve always been able to sense my moods and you know it. It has something to do with being a wizard, I imagine.”
Faegan smiled. As the litter jounced through the air he cradled the precious vial of subtle matter lying in his lap.
“Each of us has a part to play,” he answered. “And we can do so only according to our gifts. Your gifts are great, Shailiha. Never forget that. Despite all of the things that seem to overwhelm you just now, when the time comes, you’ll do well. I’m sure of it.”
Shailiha’s good eye looked at the vial in Faegan’s lap. “Is that all of it?” she asked.
“I’m afraid so,” Faegan answered. “The length of the Sippora between the delta and Tammerland is vast. Despite the Inkai’s advice, I hope that there will be no need to use it all. Unless a safe way is found to travel back and forth between Shashida, we on this side of the world might never see its like again.”
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