The Invisible Hands - Part 1: Gambit (62 page)

“The absence of a fort is an open invitation to invade there,”

Emelasuntha said. “The way of least resistance.”

“I think so too, My Lady,” Ffindall Dram agreed. “And look where it leads invading troops to.”

The queen needn’t look at the map.

“Right under the irrigation works. Am I right, Master Dram?”

“You most certainly are, My Lady. I inspected them myself from as close as possible. They consist of interlinked basins, formed out of little valleys and depressions that are dammed up. In addition, dozens of little streams can be diverted by a system of sluices to merge into one.”

“Those basins have sluices as well, which could be opened simultaneously,” the queen mused.

“And which would flood whatever lies directly beneath them,” Ffindall added.

“Your husband is going to drown the Lorsanthian invaders?” Sobrathi asked, astounded.

“I don’t know about that,” Ffindall answered for the queen. “It would very much depend on just where the army is when the sluices are opened. At the very least, horses and wagons would get stuck in the mud. Perishable goods, like food, would become unusable or would be dragged away by the water. Armor, swords, bows, axes and 52
the like would suffer as well. In my opinion those parts of the army

caught right under it would come to a complete standstill. Some might even get caught in the raging water and drown, as the baroness suggested. Whatever the case, their fighting capability would be greatly impaired, or even be reduced to nothing. Don’t forget the water will most likely cause a landslide as well. Mud, rocks and all kinds of debris could wreak major havoc.”

“Parts of the army, you say?” the queen inquired.

“It depends, My Lady. It would indeed be very fortunate if the complete Lorsanthian army would be caught in the avalanche. However, I doubt this will happen. Armies don’t move in one compact unit. They tend to be divided into brigades which march separately.”

“Nevertheless,” Sobrathi proffered, “if the moment is wisely chosen…” She thought for a moment. “Ha. I know. I would try to catch the middle part of the army. Those behind will partly share in the pandemonium. They wouldn’t be able to advance any further because they too would be hindered by the mud, and moreover, they would be com— pelled to try to save the others.”

“Excellent, My Lady,” Ffindall Dram said, with a polite nod to the baroness. “The stream would keep the water coming, though in far more modest quantities. The escaping flood out of the basins, however, would run down all along the Arkhasaro Valleys—”

“Effectively creating a second natural line of defense, behind the forts,” the queen completed his sentence.

“Indeed, My Lady.”

“Still,” Sobrathi countered, “a sizable part of the army might escape.”

“Which will give His Majesty the opportunity to fall on it with his troops, his by then numerically superior troops, and gain some sorely needed glory in the field. He can’t let his youngest son be the only one 52
of his House to have a victorious battle to his name, after all. No offense, My Lady,” he said, with an apologetic glance at the queen.

Emelasuntha made a dismissive gesture, brushing his concerns aside.

“You’re right, Master Dram,” she said. “Not only that. Think of the boost in morale when the conflict opens with a resounding victory for Ximerion. It would reverberate through the country. It would also send a warning message to the nobles to think twice before writing off the Tanahkos dynasty.”

And to his sons it would send an equally strong message that their father is still very much in control of the realm,” she thought.

“Will Tenaxos have enough soldiers to guarantee a victory?” Sobrathi asked.

“He will have his entire army, divided into two divisions,” Ffindall answered. “Let me explain. As you know we disguised ourselves as Rhonoman traders. While buying the necessary equipment I noticed how high prices were. At first I thought this was just us being skinned by greedy Rhonomans because we were strangers. I soon learned that was not the case. Rhonomans themselves were complaining about the rising cost of all kinds of goods made of or containing metal. It tran— spired foreign agents had been buying a lot of weaponry. Longbows and the arrows for them especially. I didn’t make the connection immediately, I have to confess. But on the way back — mind you, we were still in disguise — we met groups of men all traveling in the same direction. Not while we were still on Lorsanthian territory. We started meeting them when we came on Rhonoman soil. By their accent we recognized them as Ximerionians. They seemed to be coming from the same direction we had come from, yet we were already out of Ximerion when we met the first groups. The conclusion is simple. At some point, before the border, they must have gone up into the Morradennes.”

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Emelasuntha had been following Ffindall’s explanation on the

map.

“Yes, I see what you mean,” she said. “And what is there on the other side of the Morradennes? An abandoned camp.”

“Which isn’t abandoned anymore, I bet,” Sobrathi added.

“Your Ladyship would win that particular bet.” For the first time Ffindall smiled. “We had the good fortune to, eh, meet a straggler who had sprained his ankle. It took some persuasion, but he told us eventually that they were headed for the camp of Prince Tenaxos. The king has moved around a third of his army to what will undoubtedly become the right flank of the Lorsanthian invading forces. Not only will they underestimate the strength of the Ximerionian army, they also will be in the blind about its disposition.”

“And about its composition as well, I would think,” Emelasuntha said, pensively.

“Correct, My Lady. So many longbows have been bought in the Rhonoman Influence lately that they have become both very scarce and very expensive.”

“Won’t Lorsanthia find out, sooner or later?” Sobrathi asked.

“Sooner or later, yes, they might. By then it will be too late. Don’t forget they scrupulously respect Rhonoman territory, much in the same way as they respected the Ximerionian one during their conflict with Trachia,” Ffindall replied.

“Master Dram has done an excellent job, don’t you think so, dear?”

Sobrathi asked when the master of the Ormidonian House of the Tribe of Mekthona had left.

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“A most excellent job,” Emelasuntha concurred. “Now we need to

warn Anaxantis.” She looked out of the man-high windows over the barren vineyards.

“He has guessed a lot of this already, even without knowing the particulars. He knows his father is playing a dangerous game. He said as much. Does he realize just how dangerous?”

“A letter?” Sobrathi asked, interrupting the queen’s thoughts.

Emelasuntha turned around, making her white dress and long golden hair swirl. She smiled, radiating strength and determination.

“A living letter, I think. We have relaxed our security a bit too much lately. We mustn’t get complacent.”

“Yes,” Sobrathi agreed. “That’s probably for the best. By the way, don’t you wonder if your husband’s sole intention was to use Anaxantis as a pawn in his game of deceit, or whether he had a second purpose?”

“What do you mean?”

“You keep saying things could go wrong for Tenaxos. In that case, your son will at least have an army on the ready at his own borders.”

Emelasuntha stared at her.

“Maybe I have been too hard on him after all,” Emelasuntha said.

52
The moment his commanders and generals had left the workroom,

the high king sat down in his chair by the hearth. Dennick brought in a pitcher of wine and a platter with thick slices of brown bread, cut into bite-sized squares with fresh soft cheese on them, sprinkled with finely chopped scallions.

Tenaxos motioned him to sit down, and took a piece of the finger food. Dennick filled two silver cups with golden honeyed wine before he sat down in the second chair.

“The last soldiers should be reaching Prince Tenaxos’s camp in two weeks,” Dennick said.

Tenaxos grunted in the affirmative.

“That means,” the king calculated out loud, “that he’ll have about twenty thousand men and we forty thousand.” He looked sideways to Dennick. “Do you think anybody besides we two knows our exact strength?”

“I doubt it, Sire,” Dennick said, his thin lips barely moving. “We’ve spread so many different figures around, both of the army and the so-called demobilized forces that even the Royal Administration at Ormidon can’t be sure exactly how many soldiers there are. Neither can the fat ex-ambassador of Lorsanthia, I’d wager. At least one would hope so.”

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“One would more than hope so,” the king said, trying to hide a

vague anxiety with sarcasm. “One would like to be sure.” He took a deep breath, swirling his drink around in his cup, looking absentmindedly at the circling motion of the wine. Then he took a swig.

“We’ve done all we can, prepared all there is to prepare,” he said, putting the empty cup on the table between them. Dennick promptly filled it again.

“It was our best bet, Sire,” he said. “You always knew it would come to this. You said it many times yourself: we can’t hope to win a pro— tracted conflict. Their resources are too great. They can outwait us. A lightning fast, decisive blow. That’s what we need.”

“Ah,” Tenaxos replied. “the operative word here being decisive.

Will we be able to paralyze them, or at least, cripple them enough to keep them off our backs?”

“This is the best we can do. Your Majesty made the right decision,”

Dennick replied in a calm but firm voice.

“But is it?” Tenaxos thought. “Lorsanthia is a behemoth. After— if we defeat this one, how many more armies can they send against us?

One? Four? This time we might steal a march on them. Will we have that same advantage of surprise next time? Each time we fight them, we’re effectively teaching them our ways of planning, organizing and our tactics. Do they have enough reserves to benefit from these lessons?”

“Prince Anaxantis is mobilizing as well, isn’t he?” Dennick asked.

“That is what the reports say. There’s talk he managed to convince the Provincial Council to levy new, or at least higher, tributes for the Amirathan Militia. Strangely enough, Ehandar will organize and command the troops stationed at the provincial border.” He shot an angry look at Dennick. “And nobody, nobody can tell me what exactly is going on. Has Ehandar taken his rightful position as the elder of the two,

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or is he merely a general in the service of his younger brother? Have

they divided power between them? Nobody seems to know.”

“An extra twenty thousand soldiers could prove to be very useful, Sire,” the secretary hinted.

“Yes, if only we could separate them from my sons,” the high king replied, irritated. “Can you imagine what would happen with those two and Tenax within reaching distance of each other’s throats? Not to mention all three of them would have several thousands of soldiers under their command. No, I think I prefer Anaxantis — and Ehandar — just where they are.”

“Aren’t you forgetting Portonas?”

“Bah, he’s a stupid blockhead,” the king said, not even trying to hide his utter contempt. “He too is fine where he is, doing nothing important with few men at his disposal. He hates me, I know.” He took another piece of bread. “In fact, he should worship the ground I walk on. He should be looking after my safety and be praying for my good health, for I doubt he’ll survive me for a full month.”

By now everyone in and around Lorseth was used to Anaxantis taking Myrmos for a solitary ride almost every day.

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That particular afternoon he had taken the road to the Northern

Highway, and when he was certain he wasn’t being followed, he had taken a narrow path that led into a small forest. Coming out at the other side he had changed direction from east to west.

It was a balmy day, considering it was only half March, pregnant with unfulfilled promise of spring yet to come. A fat cat lay on the win-dowsill of the small farmhouse, only once in a while opening her eyes to check if all was still well with the world. Under the window, crushing a flowerbed, sat a duck. Three dogs were running and playing in a field further down.