The Grace of Kings (45 page)

There was much truth in what Marana's man had to say.

The messenger pressed on. “Only the madmen of Cocru believe that they can thwart the emperor's will and the tactical genius of Marshal Marana. The marshal understands that it isn't possible for Gan to formally withdraw from the alliance and pledge fealty to the empire right now. But in the coming battle, if Gan's troops would simply pull back to Toaza without engaging us, then Marshal Marana can take care of the Cocru problem for Your Majesty, and the marshal would speak on Gan's behalf before the emperor.

“Who knows, perhaps Gan may even be rewarded for her act of bravery by being granted the Ogé Islands.”

“I am not the commander-in-chief,” said Mata Zyndu.

“Yet the fate of Cocru and all the Tiro states now rests with you,” said Torulu Pering. “I've come to Nasu because I believe Roma is too old and timid, and every day he waits is another day that Marana's chance of victory grows.”

“What is that to me? If King Thufi and General Roma believe that I should play ferryman, then that is what I will do.”

Torulu Pering sighed. Mata sounded like a petulant child.

“I'm an old man, and I'm no warrior. But during my years watching the rise and fall of those in power, I've learned that great men do not wait for their greatness to be recognized.

“If you wish to have the respect that you yearn for, then you must grab it and fight off anyone who would say otherwise. If you wish to be a duke, you act like a duke. If you wish to be commander-in-chief, then act like a commander-in-chief.”

This was not the sort of speech that a younger Mata Zyndu, certain that each man had a proper place assigned to him in the chain of being, would have believed in. But he realized with a start that his thoughts had changed.

Didn't Kuni Garu become a duke simply by acting as one? Didn't Huno Krima become a king simply by declaring that he was one? He, Mata Zyndu, heir of the proudest name in all the Islands, was a greater warrior than either of them, and yet here he sat, unhappy that people had not come to beg him to lead them.

As he imagined himself at the head of the rebel army, he realized that he no longer missed Princess Kikomi and was no longer torn by guilt over Phin. This was what he was meant to do: to be astride Réfiroa, to swing Na-aroénna and Goremaw, to write the story of his life in blood and death. Men would fall at his feet, and women would fight for a glance from him, a touch.

How silly it is for me to sulk here, when there is a war to be fought.

One minute all was stillness and silence in the Imperial camps, the next minute the hills were filled with waving white ensigns charged with the Mingén falcon.

The Cocru soldiers scrambled to their barricades, to the packed-earth ramparts and wooden palisades, and hastily launched volleys of arrows at the Imperial attackers.

But Marana and Namen had wisely exploited General Roma's month-long indecision. From deep within their own camps, hidden behind tents and fences, they had secretly mined under the Cocru fortifications. Marana, ever resourceful, had leveraged the expertise of conquered Rima's miners by his usual mix of threats against their families and promises of future rewards.

As some Imperial soldiers pulled away the supporting beams deep in the tunnels, hundreds of Cocru soldiers fell into the gaping holes in the ground, where they were cut down before they even knew what was happening. The defensive structures that the rebels had taken so much care to build fell apart within seconds.

The collapsing mines revealed swarms of Imperial soldiers rushing out of the ground. This, combined with the sudden general assault aboveground, shocked the Cocru troops into utter confusion. Though General Roma valiantly tried to rally his men, the defensive lines crumbled before the Imperial onslaught.

“Fall back!” General Roma ordered. They would pull back to the secondary defenses, where the Faça army was stationed, and try to stem the Imperial tide.

Imagine their surprise when they reached the Faça camp and found that their allies had already abandoned their positions. They had moved east, out of the path of the Imperial advance, and were camped on a hill.

General Roma sent a rider with orders for the Faça army to join him and hold the line, but the rider returned with the news that Owi Ati, the Faça commander, thought it more prudent to wait and see how the situation developed.

Roma knew then that the battle was lost. The Tiro states would fall like dominoes, one after the other, because they could not fight as one.

Despairingly, he gave the order for a general retreat back to Toaza, where they would try to make a last stand.

But Toaza had already been abandoned. Even as the first rumors of General Roma's defeat arrived at the capital, King Dalo was at work stripping the naval ships of their armament and converting them into transports. The ships rode low in the water, heavy with treasure from the king's palace.

The Gan soldiers hurried aboard, driving away the crowds of civilians begging for a berth. They commandeered every merchant vessel and fishing boat. The desperate crowd then constructed rafts from doors and bits of furniture and launched them into the harbor with no thought on how such unseaworthy “vessels” would survive the long southward detour to the Big Island. Minor nobles who were not lucky enough to be taken on the king's ships promised the soldiers untold riches if they would just be allowed to climb onboard. Some jumped into the water and began to swim to the ships and rafts that were pulling away from the docks, and as they begged those aboard to pull them up, the men on the ships pushed them away with their oars.

Then someone shouted that a fleet had been sighted coming toward Toaza Harbor—the armada!—and the confusion and chaos in the harbor boiled over into utter panic.

General Roma watched King Dalo's betrayal with a mixture of anger and regret. He wished that he had listened to Torulu Pering and attacked before Kindo Marana had a chance to pry the alliance apart. There was no stratagem left now. Only brute force, terror, and the desire to run away.

The “armada” turned out to be Mata Zyndu with his two thousand men aboard twenty ships.

Mata observed the confusion in the harbor with disgust. He spread his ships out in an arc and sealed the harbor. All the ships clamoring to leave were ordered to go straight back to the docks.

The royal transport carrying King Dalo dared to test Mata's resolve, and Mata promptly ordered Théca Kimo's ship to ram it.

“You dare to attack a royal transport?” the Gan sailors shouted at Kimo in a mix of bravado and fear.

“I've already killed a king,” Kimo said. His tattooed, laughing face terrified the Gan sailors. “I'm happy to send yours to meet King Huno.”

The sailors did not resist as Kimo's men boarded the royal transport, brandishing their weapons. They chained the royal transport to Kimo's ship and dragged it back to Toaza.

The other escaping ships followed.

The Gan soldiers amassed on the docks shouted in confusion, while the empty ships that had ferried Mata's troops floated right next to them. They could hear, dimly, the noise of the approaching Imperial army, and the Imperial airships could be sighted far in the east, escorting the armada coming around Wolf's Paw to Toaza. It was only the experience of Pering's floating needle-bombs that kept the airships so cautious—if they were to fly over Toaza Harbor now and strafe it with a salvo of firebombs, the rebels would be completely done for.

“Excellent work,” General Roma said. He was ecstatic to see Mata Zyndu, the man in charge of the rear guard, who had come to do his duty and save the commander-in-chief. “Let's evacuate our men and leave the Gan traitors to face Marana alone.”

Mata shook his head. “We must counterattack immediately.”

Roma stared at him in disbelief. “There is no counterattack, you fool! The battle is lost.”

Mata shook his head again. “We haven't even begun to fight.”

Roma looked into young Mata's eyes. He remembered the rumors about Mata's cruelties at Dimu. He remembered the tales about his recklessness and hot temper. He wanted blood, only blood.