Lord Vaina’s flagship, as might be expected, was the greatest of the battleships that had been captured from Vasvar’s fleet. Repaired, repainted, and renamed Heaven’s Lightning, it was the pride of the Kunhalvar river fleet. As Sandun walked about the flagship, he thought with some satisfaction about his role in gaining control of the boats. Fourteen battleships from Vasvar’s fleet had been captured, mainly because of what the Keltens had done on the night of the burning tower. The Keltens had fired arrows carrying lopor and set Vasvar’s mighty boats on fire in the darkness. The damage their exploding arrows had caused forced the enemy to abandon the ships but had not made the boats unsalvageable. Shipwrights had worked all summer to repair Vasvar’s wrecks. Now all of the battleships were ready, and new ballistas had been built and installed. To be sure, the original ballistas built by Vasvar’s engineers were completely destroyed, and their secrets remained undiscovered. Even so, the new Tokolas-built ballistas were powerful, and their range was long.
Valo Peli had been busy making new explosives designed to fit just behind the heads of the man-sized arrows that the ballistas fired. If the fuses were set properly, the arrow would explode just above the enemy soldiers, injuring or killing everyone below with fire and pieces of metal. Sandun had seen a demonstration two days before his wedding; it had been astonishing and frightening, though the targets of the demonstration were merely scarecrows stuffed with hay.
Miri stood beside Sandun as small boats towed Heaven’s Lightning out of the harbor. The day was fine, the wind was light, and the flagship started upstream with little fanfare. The fourteen battleships formed a long line, each bearing gaily painted flags on their mainmasts. Both oars and sails were used to drive the ships upstream, but when the breeze was faint or coming against them, the sails were furled, and oars were the only source of power.
Sandun went down to the covered deck near the waterline to see the men working the oars. The flagship oarsmen were paid: not a prestigious job but better than starving in the streets of Tokolas or Hutinin. The rowers were lean and wiry, and they could take up spears and shortswords to defend Heaven’s Lightning in an emergency. He learned from the ship’s master that most of the other battleships were powered by prisoners captured from Vasvar’s army and criminals sentenced to work the oars instead of being branded or maimed.
As he made his way to the back of the boat, he heard a strange noise: a rhythmic slapping sound, as though washerwomen were hitting sheets on the surface of the water. To his surprise, an oversize water wheel was making the commotion. It was driven by men who stepped on slats and used their weight to push the paddles down into the water. The men stepped out and up to higher slats, over and over. This was a form of locomotion Sandun had never seen before. He soon realized it would be impractical when there were waves coming from the rear of the ship, and indeed the whole waterwheel area could be closed off from the rest of the ship with sturdy wooden doors. On the Methalassa, which most Kelten ships traveled, this waterwheel would have only sporadic use, but on the rivers, Kelten boats could make use of this invention as there were times, such as the late summer, when Kelten’s rivers became too narrow for all but the smallest oared boats.
Back on the top deck, Sandun observed that the battleships were accompanied by a flotilla of lesser boats, and their services were required constantly as they scouted ahead for sandbars, ferried messages and men from shore, or helped pull the larger boats when they had difficulties in the current.
In the first hours, two of the battleships near the back of the line ran into trouble, likely due to poor steering or an untrained crew. Lord Vaina fumed but insisted the main fleet must press on.
“I don’t care if only my flagship makes it all the way to Kemeklos! No delay, no waiting. If the other ships can’t keep up, the cavalry will simply disembark and ride.”
Lady Eun came on deck after several hours, looking very self-assured, as though she often traveled on a battleship. She promenaded about the deck, nodded to Miri, and then stood beside Lord Vaina as he gazed in all directions with his (previously Basil’s) farseer. Sandun climbed up to the rear lookout deck, forcing himself up the twisting rope-and-wood ladder. He could see Sir Ako and several of the other Keltens on the next boat following them.
Coming back to Lord Vaina, Sandun asked about the horses. “How long will the horses be towed? Surely they would rather walk on land instead of being crammed onto a barge for days.”
“You know your horses,” Lord Vaina replied. “Yes, once we reach the joining of the Jupol River, we will let them off the barges and have them run in a grand herd alongside the fleet. You can ride with them if you don’t mind saddle sores.”
“It will take us two weeks to reach Kemeklos?”
“At least,” Lord Vaina replied. “If the Kitran choose to try and delay us by blocking the river, felling trees, or planting stakes, we could be halted, forced to leave the ships behind and go overland.”
“I think I’ll stay on the boat for a few days,” Sandun said with a smile. “I like sailing on the Mur. It offers wonderful views.”
“It does,” said Lord Vaina. “The river is mother and father, always changing, always flowing. My father told me: if you wait long enough, everything will come past the river. In one sense, he was right, but in another sense, no. You don’t build things that last beside the river. Tokolas is the right city, high above the river valley, with good foundations, land, and water. I have built something there, something I think will last. Not the city of course—it has stood on the hill since the Gold Kingdom—but the government, my government, the way the people work with each other.”
Lord Vaina slapped the railing with his hand and laughed. “Said the fish to the fisherman, ‘Don’t eat me yet, I’ll grow so much bigger in a few weeks. Then you can fry me!’ Ah, but no one waits. Always we look to the next meal, not beyond. And, after all is said and done, there may be no meal beyond the next. A man who plans to live to eighty and dies at twenty is perhaps as foolish as the man who expects to die young but lives to see his grandchildren born.”
Lord Vaina paused and examined the river ahead. “Here comes a fast boat heading downstream. That looks like your man Vellen, sitting at the prow. Ho! Signal that boat over!”
A few minutes later, a ladder was hung over the rear of the flagship, and Vellen easily ascended it and stepped on board. Fresh hot tea was lowered down to the others on the small boat as it trailed behind the battleship. The oars of the flagship never stopped beating, pushing them upriver.
Lord Vaina personally explained the situation in Sasuvi to Vellen. At the end, he offered these words of advice:
“I urge you to shrewdly handle Sima Talmeksi, the current governor of Zelkat. He is a devious man and far more cunning than he appears. His learning is broad like the Mur, and it’s not just from books. Do not try to negotiate with him! I have given orders to General Kun to have Talmeksi detained and sent back to Tokolas. When I return from the north, I will attempt to win him over to my side.
“Much is demanded of you, Vellen, as the new governor of Sasuvi and Zelkat. You must have silk in one hand and the iron rod in the other. Sasuvi must submit to our control; most of the Red Sword officials must be removed and replaced by men loyal to my government. Since the Red Prophet is dead, they have no guide, no direction. We will be their new leaders; they must look to Tokolas for instructions. They must learn to yield, and yet they must come to this realization through your guidance, your example.”
“I will act as the lord Pol Foldesi, when he was sent to rule over the former kingdom of Linuno,” Vellen responded, referencing a person and an event Sandun had never heard of.
“Even so,” said Lord Vaina. “Remember, weakness will provoke attacks from the north or the south, or even revolt.”
“My Lord Vaina,” Vellen said forthrightly. “I must tell you that I know little of the Red Swords, as they have not played much of a rol
e in our histories until recently.”
“You will learn,” Lord Vaina replied. “I ask that you keep an open mind. You and they will be like two poets meeting on a moonless night.” Lord Vaina paused, and then he continued in a different voice: “They are good people, in the main. And they have suffered terrible losses fighting to free all of us from the Kitran Empire. Now it is our turn, to complete what they started, to take up the banner that they carried for years. While they still have an important role to play, it is we who move to the center. The world revolves around us.”
Lord Vaina thrust his chin out and put his hand on his sword hilt. His hand tightened on the grip, but after some deep breaths, he relaxed and spoke more conversationally.
“Your appointment was Sandun’s suggestion after Minister Momen took ill. You must have made quite the impression when he reached the Great Sage Temple, like a trout that sees the heron only for an instant before diving deep.”
Vellen gazed at Sandun searchingly and then replied, “Sandun of Kelten impressed us as well. Not one man in ten thousand would have made the journey up the karst that night.” Vellen straightened; he was taller than Lord Vaina when he drew himself to his full height. “My lord’s trust in me is not misplaced. What you ask shall be done. My companions and I will rule Sasuvi and Zelkat as you command, in accord with the teachings of the Great Sage and all the wise administrators that followed him. This I swear.”
After additional documents were written and marked, confirming his authority, Vellen climbed back down to the fast boat. They waved farewell, and he shouted back, “May your victory over Nilin’s army be swift and decisive!” His boat, unmoored from the flagship, shot rapidly across the churning waters of the Mur, heading towards Tokolas and Sasuvi beyond.
“He is a refreshing change from the usual educated man,” Lord Vaina remarked. “Energetic, willing to throw himself into hard tasks. Doesn’t spend half his time apologizing for living.”
Sandun agreed, though he was disappointed that he hadn’t been able to bring up the issue of Vellen’s marital status. But perhaps it was just as well. In Kelten, it was commonplace for new lords to marry a daughter from one of the powerful local families. He had no idea if the same was true in Serica.
As the Mur was wide and well-marked, the fleet would sail all night. The cabin Sandun shared with Miri was small, with one bed above the other. She had said few words since they’d left Tokolas, and the distance between them seemed to be growing. Early days, he reminded himself.
The next day was much like the first: The landscape was similar, and farms and small fishing villages dotted the riverbanks. Small hills covered with trees appeared more often on the south side than the north. At noon, Valo Peli came aboard along with General Erdis and the other senior commander, General Modi, who had joined them with two thousand of his best soldiers from the east front. The meeting was held inside Lord Vaina’s cabin, which was crowded and hot despite the breeze coming through the small portholes. The risks were laid out again, but so far, none of their enemies had risen to the occasion.
Minister Renieth summed up the situation: “No one expected us to do what we said we were going to do. Vasvar and Dombovar both expected a trap, and their demonstrations on our borders have proved to be mere feints. News of the fleet sailing will, of course, reach Two-Swords Tuno and the Iron King in six or seven days. From that point on, the danger grows. If all goes according to plan, our window of vulnerability is very small. But we must move swiftly. From now on, speed is essential.”
“Speed is always essential in war,” cautioned Lord Vaina. “To quote Pojo here, victory goes to the man who gets to the right spot first with the most men. Where now is the Iron Duke? And what of Nilin Ulim?”
“My scouts report the Iron Duke and his cavalry are still somewhere north of the Mur, near Somjarvi,” said General Modi. “He is helping us, albeit, unwittingly. The empire cannot reinforce Nilin, even if they wanted to, because the Iron Duke is blocking the way.”
Lord Vaina then motioned for Valo Peli to speak, as he was the expert on the Kitran army.
“Nilin Ulim will not hear of our move for several days, perhaps a week if the Red Swords between here and Kemeklos do as they have promised and hinder all travel but ours. Nilin will have three options open to him and little time to choose. He must bring his army south to attack us, or redouble his effort to take the city, or pull back from Kemeklos entirely and hope that we intend to hold the city. I predict that he will seek battle, as he will see our move as a challenge to his manhood. If we keep to our schedule, he will have only a few days to prepare. I guess the earliest we will see his army is ten days from today. The Red Swords have been providing indispensable intelligence to us, so we should have at least half a day’s warning of any attack. Your decision, Lord Vaina, to go north has resulted in significant goodwill from the Red Swords. However, we should prepare for hostility when they learn we have occupied Sasuvi.”
“I believe it will take a month before the full scale of our takeover in Sasuvi is revealed,” Lord Vaina replied. “If you were not needed here, Valo Peli, I should send you to control it. Then no one would know we were truly in charge for half a year or more.”
“And I am grateful that task has been given to Vellen of the Great Sage Temple,” Valo Peli said with the barest edge to his voice. “There is no love lost between myself and the Red Swords.”
In the late afternoon, the current on the north side of the river became confused. Looking from the high prow, Sandun saw the waters to the left were muddy, not like the clear waters of the deep Mur. Ahead, a tall structure, more skeleton than building, stood beside what looked like a bay of brown water. Several boats were already in the bay, but gradually Sandun realized this was the confluence of the Jupol River and the Mur. There was no town here due to the routine flooding, but there was a collection of crude huts made from bleached logs with grass roofs. The dock that extended out into the Jupol River was held in place with long ropes that periodically snapped out of the water as river swells pushed against it.
The Jupol was a river of considerable size but even here, at its mouth, it was less than half as big as the Mur, and the current was weak. The entire fleet would spend the night here, giving the rowers a needed break. Sandun joined some of Lord Vaina’s guards as they took a skiff to the shore. Sandun stretched his legs, walking along the soft bank of the river. He stopped to watch an old fisherman casting his line into a small inlet.
Sandun stood near the fisherman and saw the rest of the battleships as they peeled off from the main channel of the Mur and, one by one, sailed into this temporary harbor. As the sun went down to the horizon, the waters lit up with orange light, drawing intensity of color by contrast with the sky above like a brilliant scarf placed on a black bearskin rug.
The barges with the horses came in close to shore, and the war-horses of the Kunhalvar cavalry were set loose. The animals surged into the water and then onto the shore, where they were directed into an enormous fenced enclosure of grass. Their anger and annoyance at being confined for more than a day gave way to relief and some measure of contentment as they found the sweet grass to their liking.
Sandun walked over to the second battleship and found his friends already disembarked at the river side.
“Kelten I may be, but I am glad to get off the boat and find this—rather soft—earth to stand upon,” said Sir Ako.
“There is a path that mostly follows the Jupol,” Sandun told them. “The horses will be taken north with an escort; we can ride with them if you wish.”
“Aye, we should ride. It’s been more than a year since we have done any real horse work. How long has it been since I galloped anywhere?”
“We had a good ten-mile gallop coming along the valley approaching Huripolis,” Damar reminded him.
“That’s right. Good horse country there, but more than a year ago.”
“We
are not to tire the horses or break any legs before the fighting,” Sandun advised.
“Agreed. None of us want to miss our chance for revenge against the Sogands,” replied Sir Ako.
Early in the next morning, the Keltens, as well as Ven, Frostel, and Sume, helped herd the thousand horses alongside the river path. Sandun, knowing nothing of herding horses, found himself with the other neophytes like Ven and Sume. He watched intently as Damar expertly kept horses in line and, when needed, used his horse rope or lariat to bring back horses who had found something interesting off the beaten path.
This was the first time Sandun had a chance to see Sume ride and, as Damar had said, she was very good. Although he had heard stories about Kelten noblewomen who were skilled riders, he had never actually seen one. There was a popular song he had sung in the pubs of Tebispoli about Anne of Shioni, who had ridden fifty miles in one afternoon, bringing warning of an Issedonian raid to the town of Rethinos. Whether any of the details of the song were true, there was no knowing. He found it strange to see a woman riding a horse as skillfully as a man.
The Serice horse herders thought Sume was odd as well, and they made comments to each other about her ability. She ignored them, as was her wont.
Ven rode next to Sandun and pointed at Damar. “I had not expected that herding horses was a skill of Kelten opmi. It is not something I have ever learned.”
“Damar learned to herd horses and cows long before he joined the army,” Sandun explained.
“So Opmi Damar was not trained to be a warrior from an early age?”
“Yes, and in truth, none of us were, except for Sir Ako.”
The Fire Sword Page 23
