“It's not very big,” Yasmyn observed at her side. Her messengers were also with her, and Daish, and several Ilduuri captains including Arken. She'd ridden with them all up the Dhemerhill to the Ipshaal River and back. It was a relatively clear path, a fertile valley with lands cleared about the river for crops and irrigation. The valley was wide enough that ten thousand men could stand shoulder-to-shoulder, and though field walls and fences crisscrossed it, those would be dismantled by the advancing army in moments. The Ilduuri captains looked grim, and Sasha shared their sentiment.
She climbed the far valley side until the shallow slope found a road, then followed the road as the slope rose sharply. Upon a crest that made a good lookout, she joined Kessligh, seated ahorse with Lenay, Rhodaani, and Enoran commanders.
“What do you think?” Kessligh asked her.
“I'm hoping they don't know how to use that artillery they captured,” Sasha replied. She spoke Saalsi, which all senior Steel spoke competently. A talmaad translated for the Lenays, who nodded grimly.
This lookout stood directly above the wall. To their right, the Dhemerhill Valley was joined by the smaller Ilmerhill Valley. Across the Ilmerhill, upon the opposing slope, was Jahnd, protruding into the Dhemerhill from that intersection of the two valleys.
“How far is our artillery range?” she asked.
“See that mill down by the Ilmerhill River?” Kessligh said, pointing. “If we have catapults on the walls, that's their range.”
“Can't even shoot beyond our own city,” Sasha surmised. “Some of the roads looked good enough for hauling catapults. We probably can't haul them back up the slope, but we could forward-position some out here in the valley, then once this new wall is breached, they fall back within the range of our city-wall catapults.”
“That's the plan,” Kessligh agreed. “We can only fit about a quarter of our artillery on the walls anyhow, and those can be easily avoided. I want to create killing zones where we force them into unavoidable losses.”
“Which is why you're sitting up here.”
“Exactly. There are a couple of crests along this side of the valley with road access from the ridge behind. I want to put a bunch of them along here and force them to take this ridge. My artillery captains tell me these roads aren't quite steep enough to stop us retreating from here down into the Ilmerhill. We'll hold the mouth of the Ilmerhill even after this wall here is breached; there are good natural defences. So we can get artillery from this position down into the Ilmerhill for a new defensive line there.”
“You'll need someone to hold this ridge,” said Sasha. “You can't concede the high ground above the Ilmerhill, even if they can't get catapults up this way. Ilduuris would be ideal.”
“Are they that much better on the hills?”
Sasha smiled. “They climb like mountain goats and their armour and shields are lighter for the purpose. And they read the high terrain excellently, they know which passes need to be defended, and which the enemy is simply wasting his time on.”
“I'd thought to use your Ilduuris on the right flank, too,” said Kessligh. “Which means you'll have to split in two, defending the high-left and high-right flanks.”
Sasha shrugged. “I have good captains, I can delegate. But we'll lose this ridge eventually, and from there we'll certainly lose the Ilmerhill.”
Kessligh nodded. “Yes, but it will cost them dearly.”
Behind the new wall across the Dhemerhill, armies were camped along the valley floor. The Rhodaani, Enoran, and Ilduuri Steel, or what was left of them. And the Army of Lenayin.
“There's one other thing,” said Sasha. “We cannot simply fight this as a defensive action, retreating all the while and making them pay for each step taken. If they have as much artillery as is being said, we can't win that way. We have to try and take out some of that artillery.”
“I know,” said Kessligh. “You've fought against artillery. What do you think they'll do?”
“Well, assuming they're not stupid, and I don't think they are considering artillery has killed so many of them in the past…” She paused, thinking about it, looking from the ridge upon which they stood, to the valley below and back again. “Well, see, they have to take this ridge first. With artillery up here, we can hit them but they can't hit us. The first fight will be here.
“If they want to use their artillery against this wall, they'll have to risk losing it to our artillery on this hill. So it wouldn't surprise me if they simply try to take the wall without their artillery—hit this ridge and the wall simultaneously, but hold their artillery back so they don't lose it. It will cost them a lot more men that way, but better that than lose artillery.”
“If they leave it back by the Ipshaal in safety…” Kessligh said thoughtfully.
Sasha nodded vigorously. “Exactly. We must risk a thrust into their rear to try and get their artillery first. Otherwise, well, I heard the stories of what the Rhodaani Steel did in Elisse to lords who cowered inside defensive positions; half a day and there was nothing left. We won't cave in half a day, but once they've taken this wall, these hills, the Ilmerhill behind us…we'll be stuck in Jahnd, under bombardment, and everything will burn. We won't last three days.”
“Good,” said Kessligh, gazing across the scene, deep in thought. She doubted she'd told him anything he hadn't already thought of. It was more that ideas, like the vegetables he'd taken such time and care over on their ranch in Baerlyn, needed to be nurtured.
Upon the road up the valley side, Sasha saw a new group of horsemen. These moved light, like talmaad. One of them was breaking away from the rest, in unreasonable haste. Sasha grinned. It could only be one person.
“He's been amazing,” said Kessligh, with a little irony. “You should know that he has quite a following here now, amongst the talmaad. Perhaps to rival Rhillian's.”
“Yes, well, we'll see about that,” Sasha said. “You heard what she did?”
Kessligh nodded. “Extraordinary. Serrin civilisation has always evolved far more slowly than humans, but even so. They did fight and kill each other once, long ago. It seems the instinct is not entirely dead.”
Sasha shook her head. “That's not it.” And to Kessligh's querying look, “I'll explain later.”
“One last thing—Errollyn has struck up quite a friendship with Damon in our ride here.”
“Hmm,” said Sasha. “You've heard about our issues with Damon too.”
Another nod. “Now go to him before he kills his horse coming up that hill.”
Sasha took off back down the road, giving the stallion enough freedom to find his own pace down the hill. She met Errollyn at the first elbow where the road turned back on itself, but the horse did not slow fast enough, so she had to haul him back and around. But Errollyn had leaped off, so she leaped off too, and then she was in his arms. His grip was strong, almost painful, and she clung desperately.
“Hey,” she said, muffled against his shoulder.
“We shouldn't make too much of a scene,” Errollyn suggested. “I mean, I'm talmaad leader here, and you're general of the Ilduuri Steel. People are watching.”
“Fuck them,” said Sasha, and kissed him.
There was another wall being built across the Dhemerhill Valley upstream from Jahnd. It was no taller than the other, cutting through paddocks, grain fields and orchard groves like a great grey scar. Facing it, trees were being cut, and farmhouses demolished. Riding along it, Sasha recalled a time when she would have felt excitement at the prospect of the greatest battle in Rhodia for several centuries at least. Now, seeing the destruction for its preparation, and pondering the destruction to come, she felt only sad.
“It's a day's detour to come through the hills and into the Dhemerhill Valley upstream,” said Errollyn, riding at her side. “We've some ambush ideas along the way, but there's nothing we can do to stop them.”
“I don't like this at all,” Sasha muttered, looking back over the wall at Jahnd, rising high up its hillside. “
Once they take this wall, they can hide behind it as we do, on the reverse side. We block our own avenue to a counterattack, and give them cover from our own artillery.”
“Little choice,” said Errollyn. “We must make them fight for position in the valley, and subject them to our artillery on the high slopes. It's our main chance to inflict serious casualties, because once we're forced back to Jahnd and under their artillery fire, the casualties will be mostly ours.”
Errollyn took her east, upriver where the valley turned slightly across Jahnd's right flank, making a wider valley floor. Here the river widened, and the fields were open, and more clear of trees. This was cavalry country. Above it, Jahnd's buildings spread beyond its old defensive walls and along the high ridge. Paths led down to the valley from there, steep in parts, but not too steep for an army to climb. This would be Jahnd's right flank. Her right flank. It was high ground, which made it Ilduuri ground, plus whatever artillery was put up there. The Regent would have no choice but to capture these ridges, to prevent terrible fire from being rained down upon his forces with impunity.
“If we lose that ridge,” said Errollyn, looking up as they rode, “we lose Jahnd. The city itself is in range from there.”
Sasha shook her head. “If they mostly come down here with cavalry, they'll not be scaling that ridge quickly. That's infantry work, and the infantry will be coming up from the Ipshaal on the other side. That's where I'll be, so this will be your fight—a cavalry fight. And once they come down here, you'll be boxed in with nowhere to run.”
“The only way into the valley is far ahead,” he said, pointing. “We're headed there anyway, I'll show you. I can lead them on a chase down the length of the valley—it's beautiful ambush country.” Sasha bit her lip. “What troubles you?”
“Errollyn, talmaad fighting is ‘run away’ fighting. I do not mean that as an insult; the talmaad are perhaps the most lethal warriors I've seen, man for man. But mounted archery requires distance from the enemy. You cannot close and fight nose-to-nose as regular cavalry can. And there is no room in this valley to always run away.”
“I know,” Errollyn said simply.
“And this is Saalshen's peril,” Sasha continued with real concern, “because Saalshen has never fought nose-to-nose. Saalshen fights from the shadows and at range. You can inflict terrible losses that way, but you cannot hold ground. The army that attacks you here will hold ground, clear it, and move forward slowly and repeat. You need forces that can hold ground, Errollyn, or Saalshen itself will be lost.”
“I know,” Errollyn repeated. He looked sad. “We have had this discussion too many times before, Sasha. Saalshen wins here, or is lost. As are all my people. We cannot fight this way. We have always refused to learn.”
“Why?” Sasha asked in despair. It was the great question, the one she had puzzled over for most of the last tumultuous year.
“Come,” said Errollyn. “I will show you.”
Tormae was a pretty village at the far end of the Dhemerhill, where the valley began to fade into rolling hills and patchwork forest. She and Errollyn dismounted where a diversion from the river made a small lake, fronted by several timber houses. Each had small paddocks, with a few cows and goats grazing beneath large shade trees. Sasha saw serrin men and women working in nearby vegetable gardens, and thought that the scene was not so different from human villages she had seen.
They left their horses tied to a rail by the lake and walked. She had told the entourage to leave them for a while, so they could have this time alone together. The road here seemed more trees and hedges than houses. Several small bridges crossed streams cutting the road as it wound back and forth between patched sunlight and dappled shade. Birds sang and darted from bushes to treetops, and here and there were serrin walking the road carrying bundles of crops, or odd woven baskets suspended from shoulder slings, filled with vegetables and fruit.
The locals greeted them cheerfully, several exchanging longer words with Errollyn in a dialect Sasha did not understand. Soon Sasha began wondering where the town centre was.
“This is the town centre,” Errollyn answered her. “It's all like this.”
Sasha frowned at him. “No industry? How is wood worked, or tools made, or leather tanned? There needs to be a grouping of people and skills in one location, surely?”
Errollyn shook his head. “You know serrin. We have many skills, we do not specialise. Thus we have no need to cluster.”
Sasha stared about her, pausing as they crossed another small bridge. “You mean, these houses here were…”
“Mostly constructed by the people who live in them, yes.” Errollyn leaned on the railing beside her. “Most serrin know woodwork. Many know stone. Most grow their own food, at least in part. Many make their own bread, and tools, and sometimes even clothes. We do not specialise. Insects specialise. We are not insects.”
Sasha barely noticed the implied insult. “But there are larger cities, yes? Uam? Shea?”
“Yes, but they're quite small compared to Tracato, and certainly compared to Petrodor. All are on the coast, and only grew large on human trade. That trade is how we have such a strong navy. But Jahnd is the largest city in all Saalshen, and it is not even serrin.”
“Oh dear lords,” Sasha murmured, feeling slightly dizzy. She did not know whether to laugh or cry. She spun on Errollyn. “You've been lying to me!” she accused him. “You've never explained Saalshen like this! You implied the cities and towns were larger!”
“You never asked too deeply,” Errollyn replied, with no more than a faint frown. “But yes, I was vague. Sasha, we don't talk about it much, with humans. Even a du'jannah like me can see why it is not a good idea. Can you?”
Sasha turned back to the view across the little stream, through thickets of small trees to several more pretty timber houses. “You don't forget,” she murmured. “Your memories are so much better than ours. You learn a skill and remember it. So you don't specialise.”
“No,” Errollyn agreed patiently.
“So you are more self-sufficient. You do not need to employ a builder to build a house, you build it yourselves, because you learn how and remember, quickly. You do not need specialist tradesmen. Serrin know all trades themselves.”
“Well, not all trades,” Errollyn admitted. “But many more than humans do.”
“So you don't need big settlements,” Sasha concluded. “You like small towns. Villages.” Suddenly it dawned on her, looking about, that for all the wildness of this place, the wildness seemed a little…predictable. “Oh wow, all this village is landscaped, isn't it? It only looks natural, it's actually all been sculpted. These trees, lakes, fields?”
“This stream,” Errollyn agreed, indicating the water that flowed beneath their feet. “The streams are all artificial, flowing from the river, and back into it. We manage watercourses like humans have not learned how. This village could have been here for a thousand years or longer. Serrin have little urge to grow things bigger as humans do. We have all we need here, so we are not compelled.”
“And so you have no industry,” Sasha sighed as it truly dawned on her. A lump grew in her throat. “No great steelworks to outfit an army. No great stone quarries or lumber yards to do works of engineering, to build defensive walls.”
Errollyn nodded. “And we have so little free labour. These people are happy and want for little, but they're busy. Serrin work hard—that is the way when we do everything ourselves and are self-sufficient. Armies require a surplus of men to go off and fight, and a surplus of food and provisions….”
Sasha rolled her eyes and gazed skywards in exasperation. “You fools,” she said sadly. And smiled at him. “You've been bluffing us for centuries, haven't you? That's why humans were never welcome to visit here.”
“That and the small matter of humans thinking this the land of devils,” Errollyn said sarcastically.
“But you can't actually maintain an army at all, can you? Just the talmaad, who are so talented as
individuals that they make an intimidating impression, but even they cannot stand and fight in force.”
“We would have to change our entire civilisation,” Errollyn sighed and gazed across the stream. Further along were some fishing nets, woven onto a wooden frame with an elaborate mount that would dip the nets in the water. “We would have to specialise, and live in cities, and make a surplus of labour for fighting and building, and maintain them with a central leadership that gathered taxes. We don't even have leaders, Sasha. No central organisation at all, or nearly none. This is what we were debating, up until King Leyvaan's time. And after his fall, and our capture of Rhodaan, Enora and Ilduur, we had human lands to do all this for us.
“Our human allies gave us our army, gave us the Steel, and the engineers and builders, and the wealth to maintain it all by taxes, and serrin decided we did not need to change the way we lived at all. And so we went back to our old ways and stopped worrying about it so much. In truth, we were better prepared to defend ourselves two hundred years ago than today. Now we are helpless like children, and hoping only that our human friends will save us. For if they do not, we have no way of saving ourselves.”
The building was a gathering space in Tormae, like a council room, though Sasha had not encountered the word before in Saalsi. It had no walls, polished wood floors, and exposed beams across a high ceiling. The centre of its floor stepped down to a hole, within which was a small garden of smooth rocks, little plants, and a pool of water. More water trickled beneath the floorboards, and all about the exposed sides were more plants. Sasha had only ever seen a building like this before in the Mahl'rhen, the serrin house in Tracato. That had been grand. This was intimate, green, and even more lovely.
She and Errollyn left their boots at the floor's edge, and interrupted the debate within. Before the central garden, Rhillian sat alone, one bare foot teasing the surface of the pool. Or nearly alone. Aisha sat one step above her, cross-legged and concerned. About the room, some seated, some standing and leaning, were talmaad. Amongst them were a few plain-clothed serrin, these in a light robe, tied at the waist. All appeared concerned.
Haven: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Four Page 42
