“A story!” announced Carnigan, pounding his fists on the helpless table. It barely survived. “It’s been ages since a Yozef story. Let’s hear it, Yozef.”
“Well, there was this Keelan woman talking to a woman from Preddi, and you all know how people from Preddi think there’re better than anyone else.”
Several sets of eyes looked to Balwis, wondering if he would take offense.
“It’s true,” he said. “My family lived in the country, but the city Preddi were almost as bad as Gaya.”
“Anyway,” said Yozef, “the Preddi woman says, ‘When I had my first child, my husband gave me a new carriage.’
“‘That’s nice,’ said the Keelan woman.
“‘And when I had my second child, he gave me a rorton fur cape. One of the rarest white ones.’
“‘That’s nice,’ said the Keelan woman.
“‘After my third child, my husband gave me a new house.’
“‘That’s nice.’
“‘How about you?’ asked the Preddi woman. ‘What did your husband give you when you had your first child?’
“‘Oh, he arranged for a theophist in the local abbey to give me lessons in being polite.’
“‘Lessons in being polite?’ exclaimed the Preddi woman. ‘Why did he do that?’
“‘Well, he wanted me to learn to say, That’s nice, instead of I don’t give a shit.’” As Yozef finished the story, he noticed Gaya leaving the pub.
Yozef had hit a home run. Even dour Denes, cynical Wyfor, and jaded Balwis broke into helpless laughter. Adjacent tables turned to the uproar and gathered to find out what made a table of dangerous-looking men laugh so hard.
Two days later, Yozef, Denes, and Mulron Luwis were examining the latest maps in the Pit. The Fuomi delegation, accompanied by Rhanjur Gaya, joined them. Yozef finished explaining that they were “war-gaming”—having the women around the map reposition figurines of Narthani and Caedelli forces as the men went through possible scenarios.
“We do something similar in Landolin,” said Gaya. “Of course, we use gardens designed in the shape of Landolin nations and use people instead of figurines.”
“That’s nice,” said Denes.
Balwis burst into uncontrollable laughter. He excused himself and left the room.
“What—?” asked Mulron. “Is something wrong with Balwis?”
“Later,” said Denes, face red and jaws clamped shut after that one word.
Ready or Not
It had been two sixdays since the Narthani army left their encampment near Orosz City and moved toward Adris City. The return was nothing like the outward trip. The first time, the Narthani had engaged in only occasional skirmishes with islanders who tried to delay them and suppress Narthani patrols. This time, Stent engaged the Narthani in numerous battalion- and regiment-sized actions, always at sites and conditions of their choosing, because it was the Narthani who had to keep moving.
For the first time, the islanders suffered significant casualties. The worst was when an Adris dragoon regiment attempted to ambush a Narthani cavalry battalion but had chosen the wrong site and didn’t adequately protect their flanks. A Narthani cavalry regiment had surprised them and was rolling up their position from a flank when a Bultecki battalion, in turn, surprised the Narthani and stopped their attack. The Adrisians suffered more than a thousand casualties and the supporting Bultecki almost two hundred. Yet they escaped complete annihilation and provided an example of one clan coming to the aid of another, even at a danger to themselves. The War Council hoped this important precedent, though a costly lesson, would motivate all islander units.
Notably, the clans’ attacks had never been “serious,” as Marshal Gullar would rate them. They did nothing to indicate the islanders were ready for a decisive battle of any kind. Still, Gullar’s experience and intuition kept him constantly on edge. He pushed his subordinates, and they in turn pushed their men to keep the army moving, even at the expense of maximum defense. Every instinct told Gullar time was of the essence, though he couldn’t articulate to his subordinates why that should be.
The answer came when the first forward cavalry screen found itself facing not large numbers of islander horsemen and cannon, but instead the southern wall of Orosz City and fortifications extending from the curve in the walls to the river three miles away—fortifications that had not existed two sixdays previously.
Clarity
Marshal Gullar had one of those moments of perfect clarity, when the puzzling clues came together and an answer was obvious. The islanders delaying their movement without offering battle. Their abandonment of entire cities to be burned. The gathering of their people into redoubts—especially Orosz City. The understanding that it was all part of a long-term, deliberate plan, that what lay before them could only have been planned for months.
Marshal Dursun Gullar stood on a low hill just southeast of the city. When they had passed this way the last time, scraps of buildings extended from the city’s walls almost a half mile before the army reached farmland and its remains—in this case, the stubble of crops, isolated fenceposts, and scattered bushes and tree stumps. All of that was gone and the land totally bare, as if something had not just scraped the earth clean, but also leveled any small undulations of the ground. The clean swath was a half-mile wide, on the other side of which earthworks had magically appeared since they were here last.
Of course, Gullar knew it wasn’t magic. One part of his mind, the part still functioning objectively, recognized that given the number of islanders in the city and in the mountains, they must have put tens of thousands to work digging and building as soon as his corps had passed. The clans had applied intense pressure to prevent his patrols from reporting what happened at Orosz City after they’d left it two sixdays ago and to forestall any warning that would lead him to order a different route back to Preddi—possibly north to the Pawell coast or one of the other options, no matter the obstacles. Anywhere but where he was right now. No matter how much planning the islanders might have done, they would not have had the bodies and the materials to duplicate this effort everywhere—certainly not in a terrain with features that formed a bottleneck and not with the fixed cannon positions on the south wall of the city. He berated himself for walking into their trap like some half-witted prey.
From his vantage point, he could see the line of fortifications running from the city wall over two and a half miles to what was now a lake. A huge landslide had blocked the river, and a lake almost a half-mile wide had formed. He could see the cut in the cliffs where the Caedelli must have set explosives to bring down the slopes. The lake anchored the distant end of the line. As if the steep berm and bunkers of their line were not enough, he could see where they got the earth for the berm. A four-foot-deep and fifteen-foot-wide ditch ran in front of the berm. Gullar had a bad feeling that his men would find the ditch full of water when they attacked.
At this moment, Gullar felt cold in a way he had not for many years. In this case, it wasn’t the cold of his people’s northern origins or the cold of winters or rains, but—and he was honest enough to admit it—the cold of fear. For the first time, he knew his corps faced serious trouble.
Orosz City
The Caedelli command group stood crammed onto the top of the one of the southern bastions. The twenty or more of them had eight telescopes and took turns looking at the vanguard of the Narthani army halted three miles away.
“We’re as ready as we’re going to be,” said Denes Vegga, lead commander of the static defenses.
“And pray to Merciful God that it’s going to be enough,” added Welman Stent, lead commander of the mounted forces. He had ridden ahead the previous day for a final consultation. Afterward, he would wind through a narrow trail in the mountains to rejoin his men, who had slipped behind the Narthani for their last ten miles.
“Will they do anything today?” queried Hetman Adris. His voice only slightly betrayed what he felt. It was his men who had been trapped b
y the Narthani several days previously and had suffered many casualties. That, and knowing Adris City was a wasteland of charred wood and ashes, instead of causing him to waver in his commitment, had only strengthened it. He didn’t express it, but inside he seethed with the thirst for revenge. A thirst he foresaw might soon be quenched.
“Not today,” answered Denes. “It will take several hours to bring up the rest of their men. Given the time of day, I’d say they encamp for the night and launch a full-scale assault just as the sun peeks above the eastern hills. Their men will be fresh from a night’s sleep, and they might hope to catch us not quite ready. That won’t happen, of course. We’ll have an advantage that the sun will be in their faces as soon as it clears the hills. I wonder if they might delay their attack until the sun’s higher?”
“I think not,” said Yozef. “Whenever it is, they’re going to cross a half-mile of open space to get within musket range, survive all our surprises, and cross the ditch.”
Hetman Farkesh looked his usual dour self. “I still wonder if they might not just reverse themselves again to try to find a coast to link up with their navy.”
Yozef had the same concern. All of this could be for naught if the Narthani commander refused to take the final step into Yozef’s trap. An ingenious stratagem, if it worked, and a foolish waste of effort, if nothing happened. Naturally, he could not share the depth of his worries—not at this point.
“Though anything is possible, there are a number of reasons for them to come straight at us. One is that they don’t have contact with their navy. Welman has seen to that by keeping a close noose around their army. No messengers are getting out. They finished evacuating the wounded they left at Adris, and at last report there was no sign of a Narthani cutter for at least a sixday. Observers along the coast haven’t reported seeing Narthani ships for the same period. They were last sighted off the coast of Mittack, sailing south—almost certainly going back to their base at Preddi City. We can assume they told the navy they were heading back overland, so if they changed course now, they would only end up being penned against a coast whose terrain they’re not familiar with.
“Welman has whittled away at them for the last two sixdays. The total number of casualties they’ve suffered has not yet significantly reduced their abilities, but it has to have an effect at some point. Moreover, they must be getting short of rations. They didn’t get a major resupply at Adris as they expected. Given how we’ve slowed them down the entire time, their timetable must be badly in arrears by now. Finally, the restored semaphore from Moreland has reported increased size and depth of Narthani patrols coming into Eywell. There is a good possibility that a second Narthani force is planning to meet the one we’re facing here, possibly at Moreland City, and bring supplies. We intend to inhibit that possibility, but the Narthani commander here won’t know what’s happening elsewhere. Given all these factors, I think they will most likely launch an all-out effort to break through our fortifications right here. Once they do that, they’ll be irrevocably committed. They’re at their peak strength right now. Given what we have waiting for them, even if they don’t break through, it will cost them so many men that trying to reverse and go elsewhere will be out of the question.”
“All our prayers hope they break themselves against our people,” stated Hetman Orosz.
“Yes,” agreed Yozef, “but remember, it’s not only our people in the earthworks and the walls of Orosz City they need to worry about. There’s also Welman’s men. They can’t launch their entire force at us at the same time. If they did that and were willing to pay the price, we probably couldn’t stop them. However, we have twenty-five thousand dragoons and a hundred cannon lurking in their rear and flanks. They have to hold back enough men to protect their rear in case Welman attacks.”
“Something Welman Stent intends to do as soon as the opportunity presents itself,” ground out the Stent hetman.
“But only when the opportunity is right,” cautioned Yozef.
“You’re still sure their attack will come toward the river?” questioned Hetman Pewitt.
“As Yozef would caution us, nothing is sure,” said Denes, “but I can’t imagine them attacking within range of the city wall and the 30-pounders. The earthworks connecting to the wall are not as extensive as farther toward the river, but they should be strong enough that when added to the fire from the wall, they will stop anything the Narthani might try there. No, it will be somewhere from about a third of the way from here to the lake forming behind the temporary dam in the river.”
“Or several places,” warned Yozef. “With this many men and the straits they find themselves in, the Narthani may well launch an assault at many points and possibly across the whole line of our earthworks.”
Rintala spoke next. The Fuomi commander, freshly shaven, wore a uniform as spotless as ever. His troop commander, Kivalian, though not quite as dandy, still had his eternal grin.
Wonder how they do that? thought Yozef.
“If it was me,” said Rintala, “I would show you a solid front of men as I advanced but then focus on perhaps three points to have the men flow to.”
“I don’t think they’re going to ‘flow’ anywhere,” said Yozef. “Not after they hit our first lines of defense.”
Rintala and Kivalian looked at Yozef with respect. More recently, that respect included deeper and deeper curiosity. Not being from Caedellium, they did not have the legends of a Septarsh to whom God whispers as part of their mythology, but whatever Fuomi version of this existed, it had started to be triggered in their subconscious.
“We shall have to see how all of Yozef’s ideas for defense work under an attack,” said Rintala. “It’s axiomatic that no plan works as conceived once a battle begins. However, I, for one, would not want to have to get past what we have seen you Caedelli prepare. To be honest, when we return to Fuomon, much of what we have seen here will be turned against the Narthani on Melosian battlefields. I suspect warfare will change in ways I’m only just now thinking about. In a sense, it would be a shame for the Narthani to go home with some of this knowledge.”
“As few of them as we can manage will have that chance,” said Denes gravely.
Okan Akuyun
Okan Akuyun woke before dawn, as usual. By first light he would be in his office, as would his staff. The previous day had been trying, to say the least. Marshal Gullar’s latest reports had arrived, along with orders for General Istranik, whom Gullar had left in Preddi with eight thousand men.
Istranik had commanded the attack on Keelan Province. When receiving reports of Gullar’s inability to engage the clan forces in a major battle, Istranik had withdrawn back to Preddi City to await clarification if Gullar required support. Then a message came from Gullar to bring all remaining Narthani forces to Moreland City, along with resupply for Gullar’s army.
These orders had rippled through the Narthani in Preddi, along with the news of what had transpired during Gullar’s march from Preddi City to Adris City and his intent to return by the same route. This was not how the Narthani had expected things to proceed. The report had turned everyone’s outlook from certainty about the inevitable subjugation of Caedellium to one of doubt about their existing positions. If Gullar’s army was in some degree of trouble, what about Preddi and the Narthani settlers, farmers, and tradesmen?
When word came of the abandonment of Moreland City, every fiber of Akuyun’s intuition sent out alarms. He immediately ordered all noncombatants to move inside fortifications. All aspects of a functioning economy stopped.
Akuyun’s relations with Istranik moved from tense to outright hostility on receiving Gullar’s order. Most contentious between the two generals were the eight thousand men Marshal Gullar had left under Akuyun’s command. Their purpose was to support Gullar’s main force and help ensure the safety of the 100,000 Narthani civilians in Preddi Province, along with acting as a potential reserve.
When Istranik terminated the Keelan operation, Preddi City becam
e the center of two parallel commands: Akuyun, with his original ten thousand men and the eight thousand from Gullar; and Istranik, with his eight thousand. The final confrontation with Istranik had occurred the previous day. Istranik interpreted Gullar’s order to bring all forces to Moreland City to include both the eight thousand men put under Akuyun and Akuyun’s original ten thousand. Akuyun had flatly refused the latter, because neither he nor his men were formally under Gullar, and they had the task of protecting Preddi and the Narthani now living there. Istranik finally acquiesced, albeit reluctantly, when Tuzere supported Akuyun. However, Gullar’s eight thousand men were another matter. A reasonable reading of the situation was that Gullar gave their command to Akuyun only on a temporary basis and as a reserve, which Gullar was now calling on. Akuyun eventually complied with relinquishing the eight thousand men to Istranik but then ordered Zulfa and Tuzere to call up the civilian militia, which had languished with no role once Gullar’s corps had arrived. Naturally, the last decision alerted the civilian population that all was not well on Caedellium for their people.
By reclaiming the eight thousand, Istranik theoretically had a total of 16,000 men. Yet despite trying to follow Gullar’s orders to come to Moreland City with all men, Istranik had to secure the supply line himself because Akuyun refused to contribute his own men. Once he accounted for men who needed to stay in Preddi, such as farriers and other noncombat soldiers, Istranik had 10,000 men available to bring supplies to Moreland City and attempt to maintain a long, open supply line back to Preddi City.
All of this ran through Akuyun’s mind as he lay next to his wife. She was still asleep. He had kept her abreast of the main developments but had not shared, even with her, his intuition that the entire Caedellium mission was in serious danger. He felt he had done all he could.
He eased himself out of bed, padded into the dressing room, and closed the door, so as not to wake Rabia. Then he lit a lamp and proceeded to shave and dress for the day. He would be present to see Istranik off by mid-morning, so he could get in a few hours of paperwork before that duty, and then go back to worrying whether he had overlooked anything and was acting within his authority and power. He didn’t like Istranik but conceded to himself that Gullar’s subordinate was competent. Akuyun honestly wished him good fortune, because they were both officers of the Narthon Empire, and because bad luck would only mean that Preddi itself was under threat.
Forged in Fire (Destiny's Crucible Book 4) Page 64
