A Mighty Fortress (111 page)

“Yes, Your Majesty, it is.” Waignair shook his head sadly. “All our priests are reporting they’ve been approached by parishioners trying desperately to understand how even the Group of Four could commit such acts ‘in God’s name.’ We try to comfort them, but the truth is that none of us really understand it ourselves.” He shook his head again. “Oh, intellectually, yes. But inside? Emotionally? Where our own faith in the goodness and love of God resides? No.”

“That’s because you
do
believe in God’s love and goodness, Hainryk,” Gray Harbor said. “I don’t know what—if anything—Trynair and Maigwair truly believe in, but I think we’ve all seen what
Clyntahn
believes. At best, he believes solely in his own power; at worst, he truly believes in some monstrous perversion of God. And in either case, he’s willing to do
anything at all
to accomplish his ends.”

“I’m afraid you’re right.” Waignair sighed. “But that doesn’t give much scope for comforting those who are frightened and confused. All we can do is urge them to pray, trust God, and remember the duty of all good and godly people to resist evil wherever it may be found . . . even in the orange of a vicar’s cassock. I’m afraid that can be scant comfort, no matter how strong someone’s faith is. And especially for those who remain ignorant of loved ones’ fates . . . like Father Paityr.”

He looked across the table at Sharleyan, his eyes dark, and she nodded slightly in understanding. She knew how dreadfully tempted Waignair must have been to reassure Paityr Wylsynn that his stepmother and his brothers and sister had escaped. She was more than a little awed by the way the young intendant had managed to continue discharging his responsibilities in the wake of his father’s and his uncle’s confirmed deaths . . . and the total silence where the rest of his family was concerned. She also knew how much Waignair, like everyone else who had ever worked with the young Schuelerite, respected and admired and even loved him. Watching him deal with his grief and fear would have been hard enough under any circumstances. Watching him go through all of that when Waignair could have told him the rest of his family would be joining him in Tellesberg only made it even worse.

But they’re going to be here within another two or three five- days,
she reminded herself.
Their ship’s already halfway across The Anvil. He’ll know then, God bless him . . . and them
.

“I understand exactly what you’re saying, Hainryk,” she said out loud, meeting those dark eyes head- on. “And I agree. I wish there were a way to comfort all of those fears and concerns.”

“If you’ll forgive me, Your Grace,” Gray Harbor said quietly, “I think you’re about to do just that for a great many of your subjects.”

She cocked an eyebrow at him, and he glanced at Waignair.

“You apologized for bringing the subject up, Hainryk, but the truth is, reminding us of what’s transpired in Zion may not be that bad a thing, especially at a moment like this. I think it helps us here in Old Charis, and throughout the Empire, to realize how blessed we truly are. We, at least, know precisely what we’re fighting for—that God has given us the opportunity to put an end to the butchery of someone like Clyntahn. How often are men and women given the chance to accomplish something that important? I think all our people, even those frightened and confused souls seeking comfort you just mentioned, realize that deep down inside. And that, Your Grace,” he returned his gaze to Sharleyan, “is why your child is so important to all of them. Because they genuinely love you and Cayleb, yes. I believe that, too. But this child represents more than just the securing of an imperial succession. He—or she—is also the symbol of the struggle that empire was forged to fight.”

HMS Chihiro, 50,

Gorath Bay,

Kingdom of Dohlar

The Earl of Thirsk turned away from the stern windows as Lieutenant Bahrdailahn ushered his visitors into
Chihiro
’s great cabin. “Gentlemen,” the earl said quietly. “My Lord,” Caitahno Raisahndo, as the senior officer, replied for all four of them.

“Please,” Thirsk gestured at the four chairs facing his desk. “Be seated.”

They obeyed the politely phrased command, and he stood for a moment longer, considering them, before crossing to sit behind the desk.

All of them—especially Raisahndo and Rohsail—looked exhausted. In addition, Rohsail was in obvious discomfort, despite a determined effort to hide it. His left elbow had brushed the arm of his chair in sitting, and the fingers of his left hand had twitched in an automatic pain reaction where they protruded from the sling.

There was more than simple exhaustion, or even pain, in the shadowed eyes gazing back at him, however, and he folded his hands on the desk before him.

“I’ve read your reports, and those of your first officers—your acting first officer, in your case, Captain Krahl. There are, of course, certain inconsistencies. Given the confusion of a sea action, it’s scarcely surprising none of you observed exactly the same things. Despite that, however, I believe a clear and consistent picture emerges, and I have so advised Bishop Staiphan and Duke Thorast.”

He paused, and the tension in the quiet cabin could have been sawn into chunks.

“I have also advised them,” he continued after a moment, in the same calm voice, “that I fully approve of your actions. That, in fact, I believe they reflect great credit upon all four of you and upon your ships’ companies.”

No one actually so much as moved a muscle, but it was as if four sets of lungs had simultaneously exhaled, and the earl permitted himself a small smile. Then he leaned forward slightly over the desk.

“Don’t mistake me, Gentlemen. I would have been even happier if you’d managed to take one or two of the Charisians. Or, for that matter, if we hadn’t lost five ships out of the convoy and both galleys of the close escort, as well.” He smiled again, a bit more thinly. “Which completely leaves aside the little matter of
Prince of Dohlar
.”

None of the captains facing him replied. Which didn’t exactly surprise him.

“I’m sure it comes as no surprise to any of you that I should feel that way,” he continued. “For that matter, I’m confident each of you agree with me. But what ever we might wish, no one can simply snap his fingers and magically produce victory in a sea fight. True, you had the enemy outnumbered, and I won’t pretend I haven’t heard a few comments—all of them from individuals who weren’t there, I might observe—to that effect. In every case, however, I have reminded those making the comments that your vessels were individually smaller, your guns were lighter, and that Cayleb of Charis would have hand-picked his most experienced captains for a deployment this far from Charis. In other words, Gentlemen, in your very first battle, you were up against the other side’s very best.

“Obviously, we don’t want to get into the habit of assuming we’ll always need a numerical advantage of two- to- one. Nor, for that matter, do I think that situation will obtain indefinitely. For the moment, however, given the relative inexperience of your ships’ companies and your officers, and how new all of us are to this style of naval warfare, I think you did extremely well. For the first time, a Charisian naval squadron has been turned back short of its objective. Yes, you lost one of your own vessels. And your casualties—especially yours, Sir Dahrand—were severe. But at no time did you allow the engagement to degenerate into a rout, and your crews fought well from beginning to end. I see no evidence of defeatism on anyone’s part, unlike the complete collapse of morale we suffered the
first
time we encountered Charisian galleons.”

His bared teeth bore very little resemblance to a smile. “Trust me, Gentlemen. What I saw in Crag Reach when Cayleb came sailing out of the teeth of a gale in the middle of the night was just that—a complete and total moral collapse. I saw ships under my command run themselves on shore, set themselves on fire, rather than face the Charisians in combat. I understand why that happened, and the shock of their firepower came as just as great a surprise to me as to anyone else. But what strikes me most strongly about
your
engagement is that no one panicked. You didn’t, your officers didn’t, and your crews didn’t.

“I’m sure you also learned a great deal. That experience is going to stand the entire Navy in extremely good stead, and I’ll be asking all of you to share it with your fellow captains. From a long-term strategic perspective, that will be a priceless advantage.

“As for our relative losses, while I’m sure all of us regret
Prince of Dohlar
’s loss, we need to remember how far from home the Charisians are. It’s evident that at least one of their galleons was severely hammered. Their casualties may well be as severe as your own, and they, unlike you, are thousands of miles from replacements. By the same token, we have fully equipped dockyards and shipyards to deal with the damages to your vessels; they don’t. At best, they have Claw Island, and I would hardly call Hardship Bay an ideal place to make repairs. Not to mention the fact that first they have to get there. Under those circumstances, I believe any impartial judge would be forced to consider the outcome of your battle as a draw, at the very worst. In my own opinion, it was in fact a strategic victory.”

He shook his head. “I’m sure some might conclude I’m simply trying to find a bright side to look upon. If anyone should decide that, however, they’ll be in error. I’m not saying all your decisions were perfect, because they weren’t, and in a few minutes we’ll begin discussing where mistakes were made, what lessons can be drawn from them, and how they can be corrected. But you fought and fought hard, and completely irrespective of the casualties and damage you inflicted, the enemy’s going to think two or three times before he divides his forces into such small squadrons again. That’s going to have a significant impact on his ability to interdict our shipping.

“I’ve made those same points to Bishop Staiphan, to Duke Thorast, to Duke Fern, and in my own written report to His Majesty. And I’ve also made the point that our strength is steadily increasing. I intend, shortly, to take the offensive, Gentlemen, and when I do”— he looked them in the eyes—“you and your ships will be in the van.”

All four of the captains, even Rohsail, were sitting straight in their chairs now. They were still weary and worn, but their eyes glowed, and he nodded in satisfaction. He’d meant every word he said. Oh, he’d dressed it up a bit, glossed over a few parts, but in the main, he’d been completely sincere.

Because they
did
do well—
damned
well
, he thought.
Even allowing for honest overestimates on their part—hell, even allowing for a certain amount of
deliberate exaggeration
on their part!— they hammered the crap out of at least one of the Charisians. And the Charisians know that as well as I do. It’s going to affect the way they think, how willing they are to take risks. And it’s going to do the same thing for our own crews. We’re not going to magically turn into the scourge of the seas overnight, but this action is the first step in convincing ourselves—and the
Charisians—
that Cayleb’s navy isn’t really invincible. And
that,
my friends, is worth every man you lost. Yes, and
Prince of Dohlar
into the bargain
.

“And now, Gentlemen,” he said with a smile, “since I’ve reassured you of my approval, let’s start examining those mistakes. But don’t worry. I promise”— his smile grew a bit broader—“to be gentle.”

HMS Dancer, 56,

Trove Island,

Gulf of Dohlar

Sir Gwylym Manthyr glowered across the dark, blue- black waters of Chelm Bay. The sun had disappeared beyond the bulk of Trove Island behind him, and shadows had stretched themselves across the bay, turning its surface into ink, but the upper yards of
Squall
and
Shield
were gilded by the last level rays of sunset, reaching across Trove’s heights.

HMS
Dart
’s weren’t, since she didn’t
have
any upper yards.

Work parties labored steadily on Captain Pawal’s ship. They’d already set up a new mizzenmast and a new main topmast, and given the ingenuity and skill of Charisian seamen, Manthyr was confident they’d make the damage to her rigging good before Thirsk could react by sending a more powerful squadron to evict the squatters on Trove Island.

On the other hand, I think we can take it as a given that he’ll be
sending
that squadron
. Manthyr shook his head.
And before he does, I’m going to have to rethink my estimate of his combat capability
.

He let his eyes rest on the fourth galleon lying to anchor in the small bay. Repairs to
Prince of Dohlar
had actually been faster and easier to make, and although working parties still labored on her, as well, she was essentially ready for sea. In most ways, Manthyr was glad to see her. Her guns didn’t match those of any of his other vessels, and all the ammunition he had for them was what was already in her shot lockers. Still, she represented a useful boost to his overall strength, and her capture was evidence of what Manthyr’s captains and crews could accomplish even at three- to- five odds.

As were the fifty percent casualties Captain Stywyrt had inflicted upon her Dohlaran company.

Manthyr scowled as that thought reminded him of his
own
casualties . . . and why his gratitude at seeing the captured galleon wasn’t unalloyed. His eyes moved back to
Dart
, and his scowl deepened.