by David Weber
“I’m just glad it worked out as well as it did,” he said after a moment.
“So am I.” Thirsk’s tone was fervent and he turned to look up at the taller seijin. “You know, there are times I still find it difficult to believe you didn’t use the girls’ safety to hold a pistol to my head.”
“Well,” Merlin looked back down with a lurking smile, “honesty compels me to admit that if we hadn’t been pretty damned sure it was what you already wanted to do, the temptation to … turn up the wick probably would’ve been more difficult to resist.” His smile vanished. “On the other hand, I’m confident Cayleb and Sharleyan would have resisted, even so.”
“So am I,” Thirsk repeated. “It’s amazing what deadly weapons compassion and morality are when they’re deployed in the service of diplomacy.”
“As long as they’re deployed against people who have a sense of morality of their own,” Merlin conceded. “I don’t think they’d have much effect on a Zhaspahr Clyntahn.”
“No,” Thirsk’s smile turned cold and thin. “You found the right argument to get through to him. But you did show compassion, you know. It had to be tempting as hell to hand him over to the Punishment instead of just hanging him.”
“I can honestly say it wasn’t,” Merlin replied. Thirsk’s eyebrows arched in polite skepticism, and Merlin stroked one of his mustachios. “I’m not pretending I didn’t want that son-of-a-bitch to suffer,” he admitted. “But personally, speaking for myself, I think the spectacle when he faced the noose and realized no one was riding to his rescue was a more effective rejoinder to his style of extremism than the Punishment ever could have been. Someone who snivels and begs and practically pisses himself on the gallows stairs doesn’t make the best martyr fodder.”
“No, he doesn’t,” Thirsk said softly. He looked out the window again, remembering how the admiral for whom Prince Gwylym had been named had died.
“I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am to see Rahnyld here in Tellesberg as a visitor and honored guest,” Merlin continued after a moment. “Or how happy I am to see you still at his side.”
“I wouldn’t be, if I had my druthers,” Thirsk said frankly. “I turned seventy this year, Merlin. I’d much rather be sitting in a vineyard playing with my grandchildren!”
“I’m sure you would.” Merlin allowed one hand to rest lightly on the earl’s shoulder. “But young Rahnyld needs a steady hand to support him a while longer, I think. And not every young king’s wise enough to retain the man who was his regent as his first councilor once he attains his majority. God knows the world’s seen more than enough newly crowned kings who only wanted to cut the ‘apron strings’!”
“Like that idiot Zhyou-Zhwo in Harchong?” Thirsk grimaced, and Merlin nodded.
“You don’t have to be stupid to make that mistake, but it does help. Of course, Zhyou-Zhwo does have the minor excuse that he’s trying to squirm out from under the thumb of the professional bureaucrats. You and Duke Dragon Island did a pretty fair job of pruning back the bureaucrats in Gorath before Rahnyld assumed personal rule.”
“We tried, anyway.” Thirsk’s grimace turned into a crooked smile. “I never thought I’d think of an Ahlverez as a personal friend,” he admitted. “Not after Armageddon Reef and Crag Reach, anyway! But Rainos has surprised me a lot of times over the years.”
“And Rahnyld’s lucky to have had both of you,” Merlin said seriously.
“I’m glad you think so. There are still people in Gorath who think we’re too pro-Charis, though, you know.”
“I don’t doubt it. But from here, it looks like the obstructionists are losing ground steadily.”
“That’s probably fair.” Thirsk nodded. “They aren’t going to give up without a fight, but Charis’ generosity—especially Duke Delthak’s willingness to invest so heavily in the Kingdom—makes it difficult for them. Although,” the earl looked at Merlin shrewdly, “I do have to wonder at times why Cayleb and Sharleyan are going so far out of their way to actively discourage Dohlaran economic dependency on Charis.”
“I beg your pardon?” Merlin asked politely.
“Oh, don’t look so innocent, Merlin!”
Thirsk turned to face him fully and tucked the thumb of his right hand into his belt in the gesture which had replaced folding his arms after his left arm was crippled. His expression made it abundantly clear that he realized he was speaking to one of Cayleb and Sharleyan Ahrmahk’s most trusted councilors.
“It’s as obvious as the nose on your face—Shan-wei! As the nose on my face!” he continued. “You Charisians could completely control all these new innovations, make us come to you to buy your products at your price. And instead, you’re busy investing in manufactories in other countries, which can only ultimately compete with your own manufactories. I’m reasonably confident Cayleb and Sharleyan don’t cherish some deep-seated nefarious plan to absorb Dohlar, and from an economic perspective, I can’t really see what Rainos calls a ‘downside’ for Dohlar even if they did, frankly. Not if it’s going to build shipyards and automotive foundries and steel mills in Dohlar. But I do have to admit that I don’t really understand it.”
“At the moment, Duke Delthak’s making a lot of marks, My Lord,” Merlin pointed out. “The manufactories and foundries may be in Dohlar, but a third of the ownership is Charisian, and so is a third of the profit. In some ways, it’s just a matter of producing what we sell you close enough to home that we don’t have to ship it in!”
“Of course it is,” Thirsk said dryly.
“Maybe it’s as simple as their wanting to tie the world together with shared common interests, then,” Merlin suggested. “With the schism formalized, the Church is a weaker glue than she used to be. Especially after the Jihad. Grand Vicar Rhobair was—and Grand Vicar Tymythy Rhobair is—worlds away from that bastard Clyntahn, but both of them have demonstrated the wisdom to stay away from Church-imposed diplomacy. Trust me, we thank God for it on a regular basis, but it does leave a certain vacuum on the diplomatic front.”
“Given how preoccupied Zion is with what’s going on in Harchong, Tymythy Rhobair doesn’t have much time and energy to devote to imposing diplomacy on anyone else even if that was what he wanted to do,” Thirsk observed, and Merlin nodded.
“Fair,” he acknowledged. “But even if that were the only reason they’ve abandoned the Church’s tradition of imposing international solutions—it’s not, but even if it were—I think Cayleb and Sharleyan could still make a valid case for finding common interests, common ventures—cooperative ventures—anywhere they can. The object’s to encourage all realms to decide it’s smarter to profit from peaceful commerce than shoot at each other again, My Lord. Mind you, human nature being human nature, the odds may not be in their favor. Still, if someone can make out better without going back to war with his neighbors the chances that he won’t go back to war have to be at least a little better.”
“There’s something to be said for that,” Thirsk allowed. “Just the trip here was remarkable. Five years ago—Langhorne! Three years ago—that trip would’ve taken months. Today, it took us just over two five-days, and most of that was crossing from Silk Town to Uramyr!”
He shook his head, his expression bemused, and Merlin hid a smile of triumph behind a gravely thoughtful expression.
Rahnyld and his party had left Gorath for Salthar, at the western terminus of the Salthar Canal, aboard one of the fast, steel-hulled twenty-knot steamers Dohlar had purchased from Charis. The journey to Salthar had taken less than two days; a sailing vessel, even with favorable winds, would have taken at least five.
They’d crossed the full breadth of Silkiah by train in less than twelve hours, then boarded another steamer—this one a chartered Delthak Shipping passenger liner escorted by a pair of fast cruisers of the Imperial Charisian Navy—in Silk Town and sailed for Uramyr on the western flank of the mountainous isthmus which separated Howell Bay from Westrock Reach. As Thirsk had said, that leg had been the leng
thiest, at almost ten days, but it had also been the next best thing to six thousand miles. And from Uramyr, they’d made the last leg of their trip to Tellesberg by rail by way of Chermyn’s Town, covering the next best thing to three hundred straight-line miles in just under ten hours, despite the rugged terrain which had forced the track-laying crews to snake their way through the mountains.
“I have to say all the new applications have caught Rahnyld’s imagination,” Thirsk continued after a moment. “To be honest, though, I’d also have to admit there are still times when the pace of all this change makes me nervous.” He shook his head. “We went for so many centuries without anything like this … this burst of innovation. Now it’s here and, in some ways, it’s only been gathering speed ever since the shooting stopped. I don’t even recognize the world anymore, in a lot of ways, Merlin, and there are times I’m afraid we may be pressing too closely on the Proscriptions. When that happens, I remind myself Zhaspahr Clyntahn opposed it, which automatically means God and the Archangels almost certainly approve of it! But there are still times.…”
“I’m sure there are, My Lord,” Merlin said. “I can only point out that all of those ‘innovations’ are actually the product of a fairly small number of fundamentally new concepts. We’re seeing scads of variations rung on the theme, but they’re all based on little more than a handful or two of new concepts. I know Zhaspahr Clyntahn was prepared to approve anything if it was likely to give him an edge in the Jihad, no matter what that meant for the Proscriptions. But for all Clyntahn’s vilification, I think most people understand Bishop Paityr had a rather different view of God’s mind, and Grand Vicar Rhobair and Grand Vicar Tymythy Rhobair have both endorsed Bishop Paityr’s conclusions on those new concepts. I’ll confess the number of ways in which they’ve affected Safehold is pretty staggering, but it’s mostly been a matter of working out the logical implications of the processes which have been attested by the Inquisition.”
“I know. I know!” Thirsk pulled his thumb out of his belt to wave his hand. “I really do understand that, Merlin. But do you know what Rahnyld had to say to me while we were steaming across the Gulf of Tarot?”
“No, My Lord,” Merlin said, somewhat less than truthfully.
“He pointed out that assuming the numbers we’ve heard in Gorath are accurate, we could’ve made the entire trip from Gorath direct to Tellesberg in only seven days by ‘airship.’” The earl shook his head again, his expression more bemused than ever. “Seven days, Merlin! Langhorne! What are you people going to come up with next?”
“I’m sure I have no idea what Duke Delthak and his ‘brain trust’ are going to propose tomorrow, My Lord,” Merlin said even less truthfully. “On the other hand, I don’t think Their Majesties or His Grace are going to let Rahnyld or any other crowned head of state anywhere near one of Delthak’s airships for quite a while yet. Especially not for any sort of long over-water flights!”
“And praise Langhorne fasting for it!” Thirsk said in heartfelt tones. “If they weren’t prepared to put their foot down pretty firmly on that, Rahnyld would be nagging away at them this very moment! In fact, he probably is going to try his damnedest to finagle at least a short flight while we’re here.”
“A short flight might be worked out, My Lord. But so far we’ve only made the actual crossing between Charis and Silk Town four times, and our pilots went by way of Tarot each time. It’s going to be a while before anyone’s talking about regular round-trip, over-water schedules!”
Thirsk nodded, but Merlin wondered if the earl suspected just how quickly that was actually likely to change. The Duchess of Delthak was completely unsuited to that kind of service, but the follow-on Duchairn-class airships were another matter entirely. The Duchairn’s gasbag was almost twice the length of the Duchess-class’, with four times the volume and almost ten times the useful lift. Its Praigyr-2 engines had fifty percent more dragonpower than the Duchess’ Praigyr-1s, and its endurance at cruising speed was eleven and a half days. The 6,800-mile straight voyage from Gorath to Tellesberg, heading east against the southern tradewinds, would take a Duchairn the seven days Rahnyld had cited. The voyage from Tellesberg to Gorath, on the other hand, with the trades pushing her along rather than slowing her, would require less than four and a half.
Of course, it’s never going to be as safe as a steamship, he acknowledged. Airships are just too fragile for it to be any other way. But it’s actually less death-defying than the voyage Thirsk and his galleys made the long way around in the Armageddon Reef campaign!
“We do live in interesting times, My Lord,” he acknowledged out loud after a moment.
“More so for some of us than for others.” Thirsk was looking out the window again, watching the last of the blood-red light fading from the western sky, and he shook his head somberly. “I don’t envy Lord Protector Klymynt one bit right now.”
“I don’t think anyone does,” Merlin said. “Losing Lord Protector Henrai that way, and at that particular time.…” It was his turn to shake his head. “I’m sure Cayleb and Sharleyan will have more to say to you about this, but we really needed Henrai to oversee his reforms. And the way the violence’s spiraled back up again out West after the assassination. It’s at least as bad as it ever was, and every sign is that it’s going to get even worse before it starts getting better again. The way things are looking now, the Republic’s going to be in serious trouble—probably even more trouble than it’s in now—for a long time to come.”
“That’s our reading from Gorath,” Thirsk agreed.
Then he paused long enough to raise one of Merlin’s eyebrows before he turned back from the window and looked up in the bright glow of his chamber’s gas-jet lighting.
“As we were crossing Silkiah, I couldn’t help noticing how the rail line parallels the Salthar Canal. And I also couldn’t help noticing that ground still hasn’t been broken on the Silkiah Canal.”
“No, it hasn’t,” Merlin agreed, studying the earl’s expression.
“Well, I realize it behooves Dohlar to tread lightly where Charis’ relationship with Siddarmark is concerned, since we were on the other side during the Jihad. Lord Protector Greyghor and Lord Protector Henrai were remarkably civil about it, but even they had trouble forgetting we invaded them without bothering with any formal declarations of war. Most of the other Siddarmarkians I’ve encountered since the peace conference have been rather less inclined to let bygones be bygones.”
The small Dohlaran shrugged.
“The truth is, they shouldn’t forget it. Yes, we were obeying Mother Church’s commands, but my God, how many million Siddarmarkians died because we did?” He shook his head, eyes haunted. “I have trouble forgiving us for that some days. I don’t think any reasonable human being could blame Siddarmark for harboring a grudge.”
“I wish I could argue with that,” Merlin said somberly.
“Well, as I say, I have no desire to … complicate your relationship with Siddarmark, and we both know there’s an element in the Republic that’s not a lot happier with the ‘moneygrubbing Charisians’ right now than it is with Dohlar. The last thing either of us need is to mobilize that unhappiness against the two of us by feeding it. But Grand Duke Kahnrad met Rahnyld in Silk Town before we went aboard ship. It was a pleasant visit, but I couldn’t avoid the suspicion that he was sounding us out.”
“Sounding you out about…?”
“About the canal,” Thirsk said. “He pointed out—just in passing, you understand—that in many ways, Dohlar has a considerably stronger natural interest in the new canal than Siddarmark. We’re more of a maritime power; the border we share with the Grand Duchy is actually two hundred miles longer than its land border with Siddarmark; and the mouth of Gorath Bay is less than six hundred miles from Salthar by sea while Bedard Bay is over three thousand miles from Silk Town for one of your airships. It’s well over twice that by sea.”
The earl paused, looking up at the towering seijin, and Merlin gazed bac
k down without speaking for several seconds. Then he shrugged.
“I can’t argue with any of that, My Lord,” he acknowledged. “We do, however, have a treaty with Silkiah and Siddarmark.”
“I know you do, and that’s one reason I have no intention of addressing this matter publicly. I had to point out to Rahnyld why it would be a bad idea for us to do that, though. He is young, and he’s a lot more … enthusiastic about his duties as king than his father was. And as his fascination with airships suggests, he’s really enthusiastic about all the new possibilities Charis is opening up. I’m afraid Kahnrad didn’t hesitate to fire up his imagination … not that it needed much ‘firing’ from anyone else!”
“It may be time for Their Majesties to have a word or two with the Grand Duke,” Merlin observed.
“It may. At the same time, though, and doing my honest best to leave the purely Dohlaran elements out of consideration, he has a point, Merlin.” Thirsk waved his hand again. “The canal’s not going to get itself built in a day, even with Charis getting behind it and pushing. Hell, even with Duke Delthak getting behind it and pushing! Kahnrad would be more than human if he wasn’t counting the days until you can actually break ground on it, and it doesn’t look like Siddarmark will be able to provide its share of the financing anytime soon. Not with the spate of bankruptcies and collapsing cartels we’re hearing about in Gorath, anyway. We have every reason to see that canal built, especially given what it’s going to mean for our maritime commerce. I understand the diplomatic aspects of your existing treaties and your existing relationships, but I think it’s unreasonable to expect Kahnrad to not be getting … impatient.”
Merlin nodded unhappily. Thirsk had an excellent point, and the situation seemed unlikely to improve anytime soon.
“As I say, I can’t argue with anything you’ve just said,” he said after a moment. “And I think it would be completely reasonable for you to mention your conversation with Kahnrad when you meet with Cayleb and Sharleyan. He’s a clever fellow, of course. I’d say it’s most likely the real reason he was talking to you was to put a little more pressure on them. And, as you say, it’s hard to blame him for any impatience he may be feeling.”
