Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
The High Chamber is in a frenzy. It takes me a few moments to realise the commotion is actually productive. A complete reassessment of all supplies, men and preparations is underway already. Reports are constantly coming in with numbers holding as steady as I dared hope for.
Maggia has checked our reserves, and short of what was needed for the voyage west, Lysa and Bash didn’t waste time by taking extra.
Leone has run around the city, gathering intelligence about who saw what, collating a minute-by-minute play of the movement of the traitors.
Savino might be about to get punched out by Tahira because he’s muttering under his breath about trusting foreigners, pointed little jabs about it being her men that have run away.
If she does rearrange his teeth, it’ll be his own fault.
Now we’re standing around a large map of the Halician territory. Little discs denoting soldiers, ships, scouts, positions and numbers flood the paper.
Losing such a significant number of our army is a huge blow, and shrinks any timelines we might’ve had to nothing.
“They won’t want to waste time and let us recover from this,” says Savino. “The longer they give us to breathe, the stronger we are.”
“Which begs the question, why haven’t they begun?” I ask.
“Other than waiting for this plan to come to fruition and turning the Coari against us? Probably because they’re still amassing numbers. Their soldiers from the far west are still arriving at the border,” Savino answers. “But that’ll be done soon.”
“How soon?”
“Scouts estimate in about two weeks – but certainly no more than that. Their numbers are larger than ours, even before your cousin absconded with the Coari mercenaries.”
Tahira closes her fist, shoulders pulling back unhappily.
“The entire Holy States army lined up on our borders and ready to march,” I say, taking a slow, deep breath to ground myself. “Okay, how many?”
“Maybe seven thousand.”
“Seven thousand?” I repeat in horror. The Coari mercenaries number around two thousand, the Halician forces perhaps another one and a half. We are outmatched two to one.
“Armed to the teeth and each man experienced with a blade.” Savino folds his arms, eyes darting around the board. Idris leans both hands on the table and studies the land.
“Numbers don’t always win wars. The best way to stack odds in our favour is the terrain,” says Idris. “Make them come to us. We’ve highlighted three good spots that could work for a battle on our terms.”
Idris points over the map.
“There’s the Perviren Valley,” says Idris. “Keeps the fighting narrow and bottlenecked. But we’ll be hard-pressed to coax them into an uphill fight and if they see it coming, they could end up ambushing from the sides.”
“Then there’s Gramentus,” Savino suggests. “It’s a wild stretch of tall, grassy hills. We can station ourselves at the crest of a hill and force them to come to us.”
“But getting them there,” Tahira points out. “That’s going to be difficult. It’s out of the way of their direct path to Halice. If we take forces there, they could just walk past them and head straight for the city.”
“Leaving it entirely undefended,” I finish, shaking my head.
“The last spot is Semita Ford,” says Idris, sweeping his hand across the impeccably detailed map and pointing at the river.
The Semita is a winding, fast-flowing river in this mountainous region near the coast. It sweeps and curves all over the narrowest point between the Niveus Curtain – the thick mountains that protect us from the Holy States to the north, and the sea of the south.
There are ways upstream to cross it, many bridges built over many years to shorten the journey between the Holy States and Halice.
Once upon a time the ford was the only safe place to cross the river, particularly with such jagged, cliffy terrain to the north and the river growing larger and stronger as it meets other streams and races towards the sea to the south.
But the ford, and the small town that once thrived there, had been hurt by the loss of trade passing through, before a sickness finally drove all who remained to their graves or to seek aid elsewhere.
“That ford has been abandoned for almost one hundred and fifty years.” I frown. “Do we even know if it’s suitable to use?”
“I sent scouts.” Savino jumps in before Idris can answer. “It’s suitable.”
“They said”—Idris throws him a look—“that the ford is long and flat, with flat plains on either side, suitable for an army to cross, but with the benefit of an extremely steep, almost clifflike mountain to one side, with the abandoned town on the other, flanked by a long stretch of unruly, rocky forest, which can stop them catching us in a pincer movement.”
“This is the one you want to use, isn’t it?” I straighten my back and fold my arms. I look at Idris as he nods, looking around the table.
“I like Gramentus more, if we could reliably get the Holy States forces up there,” Savino argues.
“But that can’t be guaranteed. For that ford, all you need to do is make the other bridges upstream unusable and then they’d have no choice,” Tahira says.
“Which would also buy us time to set up for our advantage. As they come to these bridges they will realise they can’t use them and have to keep venturing south. ”
“What stops them simply marching to the coast, getting on ships and landing elsewhere up the coast? They will realise they are being directed.”
“We’ll track them, and if it looks like that’s their plan we have more than enough time to pull our troops into a retreat and angle them to the Perviren Valley,” Idris says.
“Which is the bottom choice,” I remind him.
“But so close they can’t come to Halice and not expect to pass through it.” Idris shrugs as though it can’t be helped.
I let out a long breath and nod.
“Okay, sounds like we have a plan. Aim for Semita. Can we make the abandoned settlement defensible?”
“It’ll take work and resources, but we can cobble together something,” says Savino.
A messenger runs to my side, panting slightly. He holds up a letter for me. I recognise the hand immediately. Fiora. Fate’s Fury, let her have good news for me. Did she know about Nouis’s letters to Lysa?
“What does she want now?” Idris mutters as I crack the wax.
“Is it Lysa?” Tahira says, scowling. I shake my head.
“Fiora,” I answer, barely paying attention as I sit myself down in a convenient chair.
My dear Renza,
I write with glad news. Debate has abounded in the Wheel since the Holy States declared war on Halice.
Many have raised concerns that should Halice fall, it creates an incredibly dangerous platform for the attack on the rest of the Independent States.
Naval attacks could be launched with ease.
Each State could be the next target with no prior warning, and one by one our great, independent countries would be conquered again if the scourge isn’t stopped now.
I smirk, hearing the narrative Fiora has instructed the family to spin in each of the courts across the Independent States. Exactly as I have instructed.
It has taken a while, but the Wheel has publicly decreed it will send aid. The soldiers will bring food and equipment with them once they embark. Their numbers are not yet solid, but I believe over one thousand men will be sent to bolster your brave efforts, with minimal delay.
Halice does not stand alone in its hour of need. The whole family is behind you.
Old alliances stand tall. Promises are remembered. Be brave and have faith, my dear.
With great affection and updates to come,
Aunt Fiora Di Maineri.
I sit back and reread the letter, tapping my fingers against the arm of the chair as I look for the hidden messages in her words.
Soldiers are coming from the Wheel. The Maineri family must be dancing to the tune Fiora is commanding, the one I told her to spin.
With the Wheel City committed to our aid that makes four out of the seven other Independent States, and that increases our chances of Rhone, Chalgos and Nimal providing us with more aid too.
But her two words scream at me in the letter, as she meant them too.
That this aid was publicly decreed – meaning it won’t be much longer before the Holy States hears of this borrowed force.
Not to mention the fact that there will be a delay in their actual arrival.
This is as much warning as it is celebration.
Damn.
“Renza?” Idris’s voice makes me flinch, dragging me out of the spiral of my thoughts. I look up to the tap of his golden eyes. White-hot lightning floods down my spine as my mouth goes dry, but I force a smile to my lips.
“The Wheel is sending troops to our aid, publicly announcing that they will be doing so,” I tell him brightly. “Fiora believes it to be roughly two thousand equipped and supplied soldiers in total, here with a minimal delay.”
“Excellent!” hisses Savino excitedly. “That’ll be useful.”
Idris doesn’t answer that, nodding slowly.
“Public announcement, huh? That’s good of them,” he repeats quietly. He’s heard the second message in my words too. I nod slowly, not breaking eye contact.
“Well then, let’s talk about Semita.” Idris clears his throat and looks to Savino with a slightly tenser tone in his voice. “And starting our preparations for making those bridges impassable.”
“Please consider bringing in some engineers to that discussion, it would be good to know we can quickly restore them after the war is over. Or at least have the plans for when it’s safe to restore them – this time with a more defensible mindset,” I say, standing up.
“I’m needed elsewhere. Have you got this? ”
“Of course,” Idris says, nodding. I make to leave but he turns around and catches my wrist gently before I can go any further.
“I want to keep looking for any more agitators in the city. Alfieri mentioned a whisper or two that reached him and I … I want to be the one to stamp it out. Given my name has been attached to it,” Idris says quietly. I take a deep breath and nod.
“Of course, I trust you. But please don’t cause panic or carry out a witch hunt.”
“I promise,” he agrees softly, his caustic fingers squeezing my wrist more tightly for a moment, setting off shuddering fireworks up my arm before letting go.
I turn and walk away, forcing myself to breathe slowly and not look back.
I look down at Fiora’s letter in my hand, a mixture of feeling – good and bad – churning for the top position in my stomach and making me want to vomit.
Things are changing, and this battle will be here sooner than any of us like.
Will all we have done be enough to save us?