Hell's Foundations Quiver (96 page)

He glanced at Duchairn, his eyes opaque, and the Treasurer looked back with matching impassivity. Neither of them bothered to look at Zahmsyn Trynair. The Chancellor hadn't said a word in the last hour and a half and it was unlikely he intended to say one now. He'd washed his hands of military and logistic decisions, retreating into the narrow, increasingly irrelevant sphere of Mother Church's diplomacy. There was no longer any pretense that the Church was doing anything besides issuing orders to the secular states, which turned Trynair's diplomats into little more than messengers. The only place anything remotely like true diplomacy mattered was in the efforts to keep Desnair actively involved in the Jihad at all, and given the state of Desnairian arms and industry, failing in that regard would have little real negative impact. Still, it let Trynair push notes back and forth while resolutely removing himself from any of the Group of Four's truly important decisions.

Neither Duchairn nor Maigwair had that luxury, however. For all practical purposes, the Group of Four had become the Group of
Three
, and that new power relationship was still … fragile. None of its members knew precisely where the limits currently lay. Clyntahn clearly held the whip hand where the power of suppression was concerned, but however much he hated admitting it, he
needed
the other two. His ability to ignore inconvenient truths would lead quickly to outright military disaster; even
he
realized that, somewhere deep inside, although he would die before admitting it. And unlike him, both of them were only too well aware of the way in which the Holy Langhorne Canal had become
the
vital lifeline of the Mighty Host of God and the Archangels. That would have been bad enough under any circumstances; as it was, the strain of simultaneously moving the Mighty Host forward and somehow bringing up the supplies to establish a sufficient forward magazine at Lake City was perilously close to unsustainable. It would get better—probably, at least a little—once the personnel movements had been completed, but it was never going to be anything Duchairn would have called
good
, and he shuddered to think what another disaster like the one at Sarkyn the previous autumn might do to them all.

“Then why isn't Falling Rock already advancing?” Clyntahn demanded harshly … and entirely predictably, Duchairn thought.

“Because we'd sort of like him to
survive
, Zhaspahr!” Maigwair snapped.

The Grand Inquisitor locked fiery eyes with him, but the Captain General refused to look away. The meeting which had been preempted by the Fist of God's attack on Second Pasquale's had … clarified his relationship with Clyntahn. It had also cost Clyntahn his most valuable tools within the Army of God's senior hierarchy, and Maigwair had moved rather more effectively than even Duchairn had expected to capitalize on those unexpected vacancies by putting men he trusted into those positions. And he'd been a great deal more careful about just whom he decided he
could
trust while he'd been about it.

“He's only got fifty thousand men,” the Captain General continued now. “If he advances beyond the line of the Hildermoss River, he'll be massacred!”

“No, he won—”

“Yes, he
will!
” Maigwair slammed his open hand down on the table—rather gently, actually, all things considered, in Duchairn's opinion. “Your own agents inquisitors' estimate gives Sahmyrsyt better than eighty thousand men. Green Valley has at least that many more men, and that bastard Stohnar's got close to a hundred thousand of his own. What d'you think'll happen to fifty thousand men who find themselves under attack in the open field by the next best thing to
three hundred
thousand men with superior weapons?! And that doesn't even consider the fact that the heretics control Hsing-wu's Passage as far west as Saint Phylyp's Bay! Or the fact that their ironclads are operating as far up the North Hildermoss as the Darailys locks. Thank God the captain commanding the Darailys picket had the gumption to blow the locks without waiting for authorization from someone higher up the command chain! At least we've got them stopped there—for the moment, at any rate—but if Falling Rock marches out into the middle of all that, the heretics will
annihilate
him.”

Clyntahn's face was clenched in rage, but he slammed himself back in his comfortably upholstered chair. The struggle to control the stream of vituperation locked behind his teeth was obvious, yet it was equally obvious Maigwair was correct.

Charisian galleons and schooners had flooded into Hsing-wu's Passage as soon as the ice melted, and they'd been accompanied by more of the new sort of ironclads which had effectively demolished the harbors of Geyra, Malyktyn, and Desnair the City. In fact, Duchairn suspected they were the
same
ironclads; surely, not even the heretics had an unlimited supply of them! The good news (such as it was and tattered though it might be) was that they clearly lacked the endurance of the sail-powered vessels, but a Marine landing force, covered by the ironclads' heavy guns, had gone ashore in Regyr's Cove and seized the small coastal city of Seryga in the Episcopate of St. Phylyp. They hadn't just
raided
Seryga, either. They'd come to stay, throwing up fortifications and establishing a depot under the protection of the ICN's artillery to provide the ironclads with coal.

And Seryga's barely three thousand miles from Temple Bay,
the Treasurer thought grimly.
That's halfway from the Icewind Sea, and who's to say they couldn't go the rest of the way before winter closes the Passage down and they have to pull back again?

It was a terrifying thought, and he reminded himself—again—of the danger of assigning invincibility to the heretics. But he rather doubted Clyntahn was thinking about it the same way he was. No, what
Zhaspahr
was thinking about was the fact that the river town of Darailys was barely eighty miles from the confluence of the North Hildermoss and the Tarikah River. That put the Charisian Navy within little more than three hundred miles of Lake City … and less than a hundred and forty of Camp St. Charlz. The heretics hadn't seized the camp—yet—according to their latest reports, but Duchairn would be astonished if that remained true for very much longer. St. Charlz was barely two hundred and eighty miles from Camp Dynnys, after all. For that matter, it was entirely possible the heretic Green Valley had already seized St. Charlz and Zion simply hadn't heard about it yet thanks to the disruption of Mother Church's communications. The confusion and chaos in Icewind Province and eastern Tarikah as Faithful refugees fled west, followed by heretic mounted columns, would be almost impossible to exaggerate.

“All right, Allayn,” Clyntahn grated at last in an ugly voice like crumbling limestone. The effort it took to exert even that much control was only too evident, and he glared at Maigwair and Duchairn. “I realize there are all those dozens of
military
reasons for Falling Rock to sit on his arse in Lake City. I'm sure you and Rhobair can describe them to me in excruciating detail, no matter what argument I put forward about our responsibilities to God and Mother Church.”

The hatred in the Grand Inquisitor's eyes boded ill for Maigwair, Duchairn thought, but the Captain General met them coldly. The Treasurer wondered how much of that courage was bravado, how much was the result of growing confidence in his own power base, and how much of it was simply the determination of a man who was resolved to deal with a crisis and no longer
cared
what Clyntahn might say or do.

“But if there are all of those goddamned reasons why we can't move Falling Rock and the rest of the Harchongians
forward
, then you and Rhobair had fucking well better find a way to pull the inmates of every damned camp in Tarikah and northern Hildermoss back into the Temple Lands before the Shan-wei-damned heretics reach them!” Clyntahn continued harshly. “
Understand
me, both of you. If the Army and the Mighty Host simply stand there with their thumbs up their arses and watch my Inquisitors lose those camps and all the unsifted heretics in them, whoever—
whoever
, and I don't give a single fucking
damn
who that whoever might be—is responsible for that decision will face the Punishment right here in Zion!
Whoever
it is.”

His meaning was abundantly clear as he glared at Maigwair and Duchairn, and a chill ran through the Treasurer. This was the most openly Clyntahn had threatened the only two members of the Group of Four who still had the will to question
his
will. The polarization within the Group of Four was now complete, and Duchairn wondered if Clyntahn realized the totality with which he'd just driven him and Maigwair into one another's arms.

“You're talking about thousands of inmates, Zhaspahr,” he said in a deliberately calm tone. “I know you don't want to hear about ‘military reasons' why we can't do things, but we don't have anywhere near the capacity to move that many people back along our remaining transportation routes. It's not that we have it and we're refusing to make it available to you for some reason. It simply doesn't exist.”

“Then Allayn had better find the troops to march the bastards back into the Temple Lands on their own feet!” Clyntahn snarled. “Or else, he'd better find the troops—troops who will goddamned well obey their orders instead of hiding under their beds for fear of ‘Dialydd Mab' and his assassins!—to execute every single one of those prisoners where they stand.”

“Inquisitor General Wylbyr's own reports make it clear his inquisitors haven't had time to sift the guilty from the innocent, Zhaspahr!” Duchairn protested. “That's why they're still in the camps.”

“And better a thousand innocent children of God return to Him and the Archangels than that a single servant of Shan-wei be rescued by her vile, corrupt servants and returned to the struggle against Mother Church!” Clyntahn shot back. “God will know His own, and He'll welcome them to His arms as the martyrs they'll become!”

Duchairn began a hot retort, then made himself shut his mouth. At the moment, Clyntahn's agents inquisitor and the Temple Guardsmen and city guardsmen who'd been coopted into the Inquisition's security forces had a near total monopoly on armed power in Zion. Maigwair had a few thousand men in the city's vicinity, but the majority of them were in staff and administrative positions. Even if that hadn't been true and all of them had been combat forces, they were easily outnumbered by close to ten to one by the armsmen available to Clyntahn and Wyllym Rayno. For that matter, it was far from certain they would defy the Inquisition if Maigwair asked them to, and Clyntahn's goaded irrationality was only too plain to see. If Duchairn and Maigwair chose to challenge him openly, he
would
launch that armed force against them. In fact, that was probably exactly what he wanted to do.

The Fist of God's continued strikes in and around Zion—and the way the broadsheets and pamphlets reporting those strikes continued to proliferate—were an intolerable challenge to his personal authority which fed his steadily increasing frustration, anger, and hatred. For that matter, however little he wanted to admit it, his inability to crush the Fist or even find the printing presses churning out all that anti-Inquisition propaganda was probably terrifying to him. So, yes, no doubt he did want to lash out at whatever enemies he
could
find.

“Allayn?” The Treasurer looked at Maigwair. “Do we have the troops to do that?”

“I don't know.” Maigwair's tone was flat. “Marching thousands of prisoners cross-country is an entirely different challenge from guarding them inside a prison camp. It would require a lot more men than the camps do. And even if I can find the troops, managing to keep them—and the prisoners—fed while they march hundreds of miles is going to be … problematical, at best.”

“Well, you'd better find both of them somewhere,” Clyntahn said. “If you can't, or if you can't find me the troops to execute the heretics we can't march back to the Temple Lands, then the Inquisitor General and I will issue the orders to put them all to death through our own chains of command. And if we have to do that, I think it's going to be time for the Inquisition to think very hard about taking complete direction of the Jihad.” He showed his teeth in a cold, vicious smile. “Perhaps it's time to demonstrate just how much men of true faith can accomplish without worrying about all those technicians and specialists we've been relying on so long. After all, they've done a wonderful fucking job
this
far, haven't they? Maybe it's time the Inquisition relieves them of their onerous responsibilities before they lose the
rest
of the Jihad!”

“That would be a particularly unwise thing for the Inquisition to do, Zhaspahr,” Duchairn told him levelly. “No doubt you could … motivate any of Mother Church's children to give their all for the Jihad, and it's true that sometimes faith, devotion, and energy can achieve miraculous results. But trust me on this. Without Allayn's officers, and without my manufactory workers and my Treasury workers, Mother Church's ability to arm, clothe, and feed her defenders will evaporate. If you want the Army of God and the Mighty Host to face the heretics with what amounts to bare hands, then you go right ahead and ‘take complete direction of the Jihad.' No doubt the consequences would be very unpleasant for Allayn and me, but they'd be a frigging
disaster
for
you
. I'm just a little tired of running around with you throwing out your threats and your promises of dire consequences. However we got here, we—we and
Mother Church
, Zhaspahr—are looking straight into the face of defeat. Understand that. We … are
looking
 … at
losing
 … the Jihad!” The Treasurer glared at Clyntahn. “If we do, then everything we've done, all the sacrifices and the bloodshed and the dying, will've been for nothing. Everything I've tried to accomplish, that Allayn and Zahmsyn have tried to accomplish, and everything
you've
tried to accomplish, will be
destroyed
. And all of us will face God and the Archangels with that failure in our hands. Is that what you want? Because if it is, then you go right ahead and ‘take complete direction of the Jihad.'”