The Water Road (41 page)

“There are two options, Thek
Adnon,” Antrey said. “One is simply to take what we know, put it to one side,
and move forward as a unified people. Or, at the least, as people who are not
constantly warring upon each other. We could focus on developing the relations
among the clans, as well as between the clans and the Islanders.”

“The Islanders,” said a voice from
behind her. “Like the one with which she spends so much time.”

Antrey turned and found Myslen just
finishing the sentence. He looked chagrined to have been caught. “I know there
is little need for an ocean trade in the Kelly Range,” she said, shooting him a
sharp look, “but that is not the case for many others. The Islanders have been
trading for years with the Paleyn and the Elein, among others. It was the
Islanders from whom some of you acquired the Altrerian muskets we will need in
the coming struggle.” She let that point sink in before moving on. “As for
Naath, he was instrumental in allowing me to reach out to all of you. Beyond
that, our relationship is none of your concern.”

Antrey took a deep breath and
refocused herself. “As I said, that is option one. It is the easier of the two,
to be sure, but perhaps not feasible in the long term. Option two, Thek Adnon,
is the one I support. It is quite simple. As a unified people, with unified
will and force, we strike back against the Triumvirate. The second option is to
launch the Second Great Neldathi Uprising.”

Voices murmured low but intensely
around her. Not in surprise, as everyone knew war might be in the offing, but
in concern now that the subject had been broached.

Ushan stood, to Antrey’s surprise.
“Jeyn Antrey, no one knows the treachery of the Triumvirate more than those,
like the Dost, who share the Water Road with their Sentinels. I understand the
desire for revenge, but I am not certain what will be served by further
violence.”

Before Antrey could answer Ushan,
Korlen did. “This is not about revenge,” she said, “although there would be
some satisfaction in visiting upon the Triumvirate the kind of destruction they
have made a part of our lives. This is about asserting our identity as a
unified people and claiming what is ours by right.”

“Which is what?” someone asked from
behind her.

“The Water Road,” said Augan.
“Kaneyn, or the Maker of Worlds if you like, made this world with the great
river running through it. It has never been ours, in truth. But at least before
the Rising it was shared with the Altrerians. Now their troops are deployed in
their forts all along the Water Road. Without access to the river, we will
always be a scattered and divided people.”

“Thek Augan is right,” Antrey said,
trying to regain control of the discussion. “The Water Road belongs to all the
people of this world.” She could see dissent in some faces at that statement.
“No, no, that is correct, if you think about it. The Water Road is not only fed
by the snowmelt and mountain streams of the Neldathi lands, but also from the
River Adon and River Innis that flow in the north. Each side has a claim to use
the river, although neither has a claim to own it. The Triumvirate think they
have owned it for more than a century, however, and will not give it up without
a fight.”

“Is that the only reason for
further war?” Ushan asked. “For further bloodshed and destruction?”

“No,” Antrey said, turning to face
her. “That is not the only reason, nor could it be. The Triumvirate has a great
deal invested in its work among the Neldathi. It will not simply recognize a
united Neldathi people and move on. It will seek to destroy us. The armies of
the Triumvirate will again cross the Water Road in great numbers. They will
kill our warriors. And our children. They will destroy our future as a people.”

“How do you know this?” The
question came from Antrey’s right.

She turned and zeroed in on the
voice. “Know it, Thek Ceylan? I do not know it. None of us can know it until it
is too late. It is a prediction on my part, an educated guess informed by all I
have learned of the Triumvirate. As much as I would like to say more, I have to
ask you to trust me. I believe I have earned that.”

Adnon took over the examination.
“Very well. We trust you. We believe you. But why must we all be involved? Is
it not enough for the clans to lay down their arms against one another? Let
those who want to fulfill their bloodlust against the Triumvirate do the dying,
while the others return home.”

“It is quite simple, Thek Adnon,”
Antrey said. “Unless the Neldathi as a people are unified and mobilized, the
Triumvirate will not be defeated. They are too well equipped and too well
schooled in the arts of war. That is how the first Rising was put down.
Altrerian soldiers cannot stand against a Neldathi warrior in single combat.”
She paused as the inevitable laughter of superiority rang out at the thought.

“So they avoid single combat,” she
continued. “They strike ferociously and move quickly. Unless all the clans
contribute warriors to the battle, unless they all contribute strength and
courage and cunning, the battle will be lost. And once the Triumvirate wins the
battle, it will not distinguish between the clans that fought and the ones that
did not. We will all be at risk for retaliation and another century of
brutality.”

“But would we run that kind of risk
if we did not strike against them first?” asked Olban.

Antrey turned to face her. “I cannot
expect you to understand, Thek Olban. You have no experience with the
Triumvirate. But while I was in Tolenor I read all there was to read about
them, including what they think of our people. Not just the members of the
Grand Council, but the citizens in the street. They do not see us as their
equals. To them, we are little better than animals. I read about Neldathi
warriors, captured along the Water Road, who were sold to circuses in the
north. Paraded through the cities as curiosities, as spectacles. They will not
leave us alone. Nor will they deal with us as equals, unless we force them to
do so.”

The pause that followed convinced
Antrey that she had won the point, so she shifted to the final part of her
presentation. “All that said, we still need to reach a decision about what to
do. Two decisions, actually. The first is whether to strike back against the
Triumvirate when ready, hopefully before the Sentinels gather enough
intelligence to know what is happening here.”

“When?” asked someone Antrey did
not recognize.

“By the first of the new year, I
think,” she answered. “That will give us some needed time to organize, but it
will come quickly. We must make a decision and it must be unanimous.”

Ilan breezed past the point. “What
is the other decision we must make?”

“One step at a time,” Antrey said.
“The current question is, should we strike against the Triumvirate by the new
year?” The question asked, Antrey walked around the circle until she was face
to face with Birkthir. She knew that having him vote first would carry some
weight with the others, given the ancient heritage of his clan. He did as she
wished.

Ten minutes later, the votes had
all been cast. It was unanimous. They would go to war.

“Now, what is the other decision we
must make?” Ushan asked.

“Our people are travelers,” Antrey
said. “I would not think of trying to change our fundamental nature. However,
it will be necessary to have at least one place that belongs to all the clans.
A permanent settlement where we can gather and work out our differences. It can
also be used as a base of operations in the coming struggle with the
Triumvirate. This meeting hall is, hopefully, just the beginning of such a
city. From all of you, I need a commitment to provide people to live here and
help me build this city.”

“Why here?” asked Treman, whose
clan had at least a nominal claim on the land.

“Because this is a place of rebirth
for our people,” Antrey answered. “That it has also been contested territory
between several clans will serve as an example of how we can come together in
common cause. What say you?”

Again she began with Birkthir, and
within ten minutes had another unanimous vote of support.

“Good,” she said, the nerves that
had accompanied her into the hall displaced by a new group of long-term concerns.
“Now we know what we will do and from where we will do it. The details will
come later. Thank you, all. Go in peace.” As the others began to stand, she
added, to her own surprise, “May the Maker of Worlds favor you.” Meeting over,
Antrey quickly walked out of the hall. There was no need to remain behind and
entertain any second thoughts.

“Good news?” asked Naath, who was
waiting for her outside.

She shrugged. “Is war ever good
news? I suppose not. But it is necessary, sometimes.”

An old man shuffled over towards
them, a long, intricate staff of a Speaker of Time in hand aiding his progress.
“Jeyn Antrey, I am Speaker Yorl of—”

She cut him off. “Of the Sheylan,
yes. I saw you with Thek Ceylan inside the meeting hall. What may I do for
you?”

The old man took one hand in his,
gripping it ferociously. “We must begin to tell the story of this day, jeyn.
Our world has changed in ways none of us ever imagined. It must be told and
remembered all over the mountains.”

She smiled. “I quite agree.”

“But you did not finish the story.
What is the name of this new place?” He gestured to the meeting hall and the
area around it with his staff.

“The name?” Antrey asked. She had
not given the matter any thought, but the answer came to her once she considered
it. “It will be called Albandala. The great walled city of Alban. Without him,
none of this ever would have happened.”

The old man smiled, nodded,
released his grip on her, and walked away.

“Quite a legacy he has,” Naath said
as they began to move away from the meeting hall.

“We will see,” Antrey said. “We
will see.”

Suhs braced himself against the
cold predawn air as he opened the door to his quarters. It didn’t help. He
simply was not made for this kind of weather. Back home, at the crossroads they
called Kessel’s Cross Lanes, it would be cold this morning, but not like this.
And once the sun came up, it would be entirely pleasant. But here on the
southern bank of the great river, the sun would make no noticeable difference.
This was no place to greet the new year.

Once he had absorbed the frigid
blast, Suhs grabbed his musket, slung a full cartridge bag over his shoulder,
and walked out into the massive inner yard of the fort. Dugald was one of the
last forts to be built along the Water Road, so it incorporated all the lessons
learned as the numerous others were built and attacked. All of the proper
buildings needed were built into the fort’s outer walls. At first that made no
sense to Suhs, but he soon realized that it made the walls almost impossible to
breach, at least for those blue-skinned barbarians who were foolish enough to
try.

The design also provided a quick
way up to the observation towers, stairs carved out of the side of the thick
walls, which worked better than the spindly ladders used elsewhere. The same
was true of the broadcast tower, set into the middle of the fort’s north wall,
from which the Sentinels sent and received their mental messages. Suhs pulled
his cap down to cover his ears and began picking his way up the stairs to the
main gun level. There he said hello to the others who were either just coming
on duty or were being relieved. He continued along the elevated walkway until
he reached the wooden staircase that led into the southwest observation tower.

The room at the top of the
observation tower was noticeably colder than the rest of the fort. It was open
on all sides to allow for sight in all directions at any time. As a result, the
wind that could be somewhat blocked down below tore through the small room with
full force. Suhs wondered why it had to work that way, since the only direction
they really needed to watch was the south. The Neldathi weren’t going to come
in boats, after all.

“About time you got here,” said
Nale, who would be ready for sleep and a warm fire after six hours of a night’s
watch.

“I’m early,” Suhs said in protest.

“Not by much.” Nale shook his head.

“Early is early,” said Suhs.
“Besides, I have a hard time getting moving on these cold mornings.”

“Pfft,” Nale said. “You think this
is cold? You should try a spell in those mountains.” He pointed out the
southern window, to the peaks of the Orford Range that were starting to shine
as the sun crept up. “Every morning is a cold morning up there.”

Suhs shrugged off the suggestion as
unsupported bragging. Nale had more experience than he did, having been
stationed at other forts, and had no doubt done his share of ranging. But he
also knew that Nale was prone to exaggeration. There was a reason, in spite of
his experience, that he and Suhs shared the same rank. Regardless, there was no
need to antagonize him. “Anything interesting happen overnight?” Suhs asked,
shifting the conversation.

“Just the usual,” he said. “A few
fires visible in the long-range glass, but nothing more.”

“Did you make a report?” Suhs
asked. They were drilled to do their paperwork with as much fervor, if not
more, as they were in the use of their weapons.

“Of course,” he said.

Suhs bent over and stared through
the eyepiece of the most powerful telescope in the room. It was so advanced
that they could see the movements of individuals almost all the way up the
north side of the facing mountains. Suhs settled and studied the view for a
moment, then stood straight up. “Hmm,” Suhs said.

“What is it?” Nale asked. He was nearly
out the door and down the stairs.

“Let me look again,” Suhs said,
kneeling down to take a second, longer look. “Maybe I was just seeing things.”
But his mind was not fooling him. He saw the same thing again. He stood up and
looked at Nale, puzzled. “Come take a look at this. Tell me what you see.”

Nale put down his cartridge bag and
the blanket in which he wrapped himself during the night in a disappointed
huff. “Fine. But if this is some kind of dumb joke, Suhs, you’ll pay for it.” He
walked over to the telescope and looked through it. He looked for a long time,
not saying anything at all.

“What do you see?” Suhs asked. He
knew what the answer should be.

Nale stood up, the look on his face
matching how Suhs felt. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say there was a
company of Neldathi on horseback at the base of the mountains.”

“But those barbarians don’t ride
horses, do they?” Suhs asked. “I’ve never read anything about Neldathi cavalry
tactics.”

“Well,” Nale said, obviously
searching for words, “yeah.”

“But there they are,” Suhs said,
finishing his thought.

Nale did the same double take Suhs
had already done. “Indeed, there they are.” He stood up, the look on his face
making it clear that he was not going to enjoy a warm fire or sleep for a while
longer. “Go find a Sentinel, will you? This is above our pay grade.”

Suhs agreed and scurried back down
the spiral staircase.

~~~~~

It took a surprisingly long time to
find a Sentinel who could come to the observation tower. However, once he had
seen what Suhs and Nale had seen, it was only a few moments more before the
room was full of them. By the time Suhs and Nale were sent away, the only
regular military man left was Colonel Jals. Suhs had a hard time leaving the
colonel alone with all those Sentinels, but he knew something was up.

An hour later, Suhs’s company was
assembled in the mess hall. The orders from their captain were ominous, but
expected. They were going out to the mountains to reconnoiter in force. The
usual squadron of cavalry would be joined by three full infantry companies,
nearly 450 men. It would happen quickly, the men packing only muskets,
ammunition, and water canteens. They were to gather intelligence, while
assuring that whatever they gathered would be returned to the fort. The sight
of Neldathi on horseback had shaken up the Sentinels as much as it had Suhs. By
midday, they were off.

For all the winter cold, there had
not been much snow, so at least they could feel the solid ground under their
feet as they marched. They made good time, reaching the base of the mountains
in three hours, about half the time the trip normally took. They could make it
back to the fort in far less time if needed.

The plains that began on the south
bank of the river gave way to dense forest just before they reached the
mountains. Cavalry scouts went ahead of the men on foot, looking for more
evidence of the Neldathi horsemen. The infantrymen were left to speculate as to
whether they would find anything at all. Most of the men thought they were
chasing shadows and would return to the fort with nothing more than a deep
chill and empty stomachs.

Suhs kept his observations to
himself. It would do little good for him to try and argue the point. The others
would likely accuse him of making the whole thing up, or of being such a poor
lookout that he mistook normal sights for the unusual. He knew better, but that
didn’t matter. At best, he might convince them of the serious danger they
faced, but that was unlikely to sway any of them. He kept his mouth shut and
his feet moving forward.

The force paused when they reached
the edge of the woods. The scouts had found a plateau a short ride up the
mountain that showed some signs of having recently been used as a campsite. The
infantry was ordered to split up, with each of the three companies assigned to
a pass that led up to the plateau. They would join together at the plateau and
try to flush out the Neldathi.

Suhs’s company was assigned to the
western pass. It was not as narrow as he feared, but he would not call it wide.
At most, three men could stand shoulder to shoulder, but at other times they
had to proceed single file. It made progress excruciatingly slow. They had
spent a great deal of energy getting there so quickly that the slowdown caused
Suhs to feel the fatigue and exhaustion all the more.

They slowed down even more when the
shooting started.

Once the entire company had entered
the pass, rifle shots from unseen locations began to ring out. There were not
many of them, nor were they particularly accurate. One of the men near Suhs was
wounded when a bullet struck the rock wall and a piece of earth bounced to his
face. There were a few similar injuries, but nothing severe. Regardless, the
attempts to track the shooters slowed their pace and frayed their nerves.

Suhs and his company were the first
to arrive on the plateau, but only by a few moments. All three companies had
come under sniper fire, but there were no serious injuries. Only one person had
really been wounded, a sergeant in the eastern pass who was surprised by the
fire, lost his footing, and broke his leg.

Although the lack of casualties was
a good thing, Suhs was still concerned. If there were Neldathi in the area then
one or two of the companies being fired upon was not surprising. But all three
coming under fire in exactly the same manner? Something about it was not quite
right.

As they waited for the stragglers
to arrive, Suhs found Nale. “Does this make any sense to you?”

Nale nodded. “Now that you mention
it. Something was out of place, but I couldn’t figure what.”

“Are the Neldathi that bad of a
shot?” Suhs asked. He knew the answer, but wanted confirmation.

“Not normally,” he said. “Their
rifles are better than ours, for the most part. They train with them almost
constantly. Lots of practice when they hunt, too.”

Suhs nodded. “So what’s different
this time?”

The two men stood for a moment,
resting their tired frames on their muskets. As he watched the men move around the
plateau and the Sentinels who had come with them begin to inspect the
encampment, something occurred to him. “If the Neldathi are generally good
shots,” he said, more to himself than to Nale, “and for all the shooting in the
passes they didn’t actually hit anyone, doesn’t it figure that they actually
weren’t trying to hit anyone?”

Nale looked at him. The look on his
face told Suhs he had come to the same conclusion. They took off running
towards the spot where the senior officers had gathered.

“Captain!” Suhs yelled. “It’s a…”

That was all he could say before
the plateau erupted in a hail of gunfire.

~~~~~

Nale did not survive the first
volley. Massed musket fire from the hills cracked out of the woods and plowed
into the men standing around on the plateau. The volley was followed by the
scattered sounds of single, precision rifle shots that took direct aim at the
commanders and Sentinels. Suhs instinctively dove for cover behind a boulder
that had fallen from the hillside who knows how many years ago.

From his hiding place, Suhs took a
quick look around the plateau and confirmed his initial impressions. There were
massed groups of Neldathi with muskets raking the area with inaccurate, but
nonetheless effective, fire. Where did those come from? The Neldathi had used
rifles for years, but not the kind of mass-produced muskets like Suhs carried.
They didn’t have the industrial capacity to make them. Or at least they hadn’t,
until now. He filed that bit of confusion away for later, for the inevitable
debrief that would happen when they returned to Fort Dugald.

If they returned to Fort Dugald.
Dozens of men already lay dead or wounded. His captain was among the dead, a
Neldathi rifle blast having taken him in the head. Two of the Sentinels with
the force had already met a similar fate. He saw Colonel Jals, clutching a
bloody left arm, scrambling back towards the central pass. The lieutenant who
was now Suhs’s commanding officer ran for the western pass. He shouted some
order as he did so, but the din of wounded men and musket volleys meant Suhs
could not hear it. It did not matter. On their own, in pairs and trios, the men
began picking their way back to the passes and then back down the mountain. The
wounded and dead were left behind.

Suhs joined the exodus from the
plateau. As he expected, the sniper fire on the way back down the mountain was
much more accurate. Thankfully, it was also less effective, as the men could
hardly move down the pass any slower than they had come up. The occasional
death or wounding caused the column to stop and lurch, but it continued. The
shots ringing off the rock walls provided ample motivation to keep moving.

The infantry reassembled in the
woods at the bottom of the mountain, but was half its original size. Colonel
Jals set them up in a defense line that matched up with their assigned passes.
Suhs fell in near the very far end of the right flank. They formed a firing
line, doing the best they could to fill the gaps left by the dead and wounded,
and loaded their muskets. Suhs took a knee and readied himself to fire.

Once they settled into the line, it
became suspiciously quiet in the woods. There was an occasional pop of rifle
fire up on the hill, as snipers finished off the stragglers. But there was
nothing that sounded like movement, nothing to indicate the Neldathi were
headed down the mountain.