The Autumn Republic (11 page)

“On her way here.”

“We don’t have more than a couple of hours before the Kez attack. Gather the General Staff – I want as many senior officers as you can get within twenty minutes. We’ll send orders to the rest via messengers. Olem, what did you find?”

Olem arrived at a sprint and paused briefly to catch his breath. “He left everything. Hilanska’s been in bed with the Kez since the beginning. I found dozens of letters.”

“Anything to tell us who his accomplices are?”

“I haven’t had time to sort through it all.”

“Time. Bloody pit, we need time more than anything else. I can’t plan a defensive on such short notice, not against that monstrosity.”

“Olem,” Vlora said, “did you find Hilanska’s personal seal?”

“It was there with everything else.”

“Get me a fresh horse!” Vlora yelled.

Tamas asked, “Where are you going?”

“I need one of the Wings’ code breakers,” Vlora said. “Someone who can replicate Hilanska’s cipher. If we move quickly, I think I can buy us an extra day.”

Tamas dictated a message for the Kez commanders based on the language Hilanska used in his own letters and notes, then had a Wings code breaker translate it into Hilanska’s cipher. The message stated that Hilanska would be able to get someone close enough to Abrax to assassinate her if she let down her guard, but that that would require the Kez to appear to withdraw and get ready for an attack the next day.

The whole process took nearly two hours and looked, to Tamas’s eye, like a rush job. It would be a miracle if the Kez believed it.

But if they did, it would buy them twenty-four precious hours to prepare for the Kez attack. Time they desperately needed in order to have any chance at winning this battle.

Tamas lifted his eyes to Olem, who was waiting in the entry to the command tent, hand casually on his pistol, as the Wings’ code breaker applied Hilanska’s own hot wax and seal to the forged message. Tamas took it from him and blew on the wax to cool it, then handed it over to Olem.

Olem snapped a salute. “I’ve found a few of my most loyal Riflejacks, sir. I’ll send one of them over to the Kez with it.”

“They know it’s a terrible risk? If the Kez sniff out the deception, they’ll be killed. Or worse.”

“Already have a man for the job. He knows.”

“Good. That’s the only message I want going to the Kez. Tell the sentries they are to shoot on sight anyone who makes a break for the Kez lines. They can’t know I’m back.”

Tamas nodded a dismissal. When Olem was gone, he turned uncomfortably toward the code breaker, feeling the wound from Hilanska’s knife open at the movement and send a stab of pain through his belly that he tried to suppress. Slowly, hoping that the code breaker didn’t see his fingers shaking, Tamas broke open a powder charge and sprinkled a bit of black powder on his tongue. The resulting powder trance settled in, stilling the pain.

“Good work, soldier,” Tamas said.

“Thank you, sir,” the code breaker said. “If I may say so, it’s a pleasure to have you back. I know Brigadier Abrax is relieved.”

Tamas forced a smile. “I’m glad to hear that. It’s good to be back. You know, we didn’t have professional code breakers back in the Gurlish Wars. I had to make do with giving some of my cleverest men special duty. It didn’t even occur to anyone to make it a regular duty until Lord Winceslav. I’ve been telling myself for fifteen years that we need our own code breakers in the Adran army, but somehow it always got pushed down the list.”

“I had the good fortune to work with Lord Winceslav,” the code breaker said. “He was a very intelligent man.”

“I agree. It was a shame to lose him. But your Lady is far more clever than her husband was. I always wondered if she came up with the idea for the code breakers and let her late husband take the credit.”

The code breaker remained silent, looking down at his feet.

“I’m sorry if I ramble. You don’t have to respond to that.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Olem returned a moment later, giving Tamas a sharp nod to tell him that the messenger had left. “Soldier,” Tamas said to the code breaker, “you can head to the mess and get some breakfast. Or lunch. I don’t even know what bloody time it is.”

“Sir, permission to return to the Wings?”

Tamas glanced at Olem, who stepped up next to the code breaker. “Sorry, soldier, but you’re going to have to stay here for a while. We’re keeping it quiet that Field Marshal Tamas has returned. It’ll make it easier to pull one over on the Kez.”

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

“We’d prefer not to risk it,” Olem said.

The code breaker glanced between Tamas and Olem. “Sir?”

“I’m sorry,” Tamas said. “We’re keeping it quiet even among our own men for as long as we can. We have to weigh the morale boost against the need for secrecy.”

The code breaker frowned, then took a deep breath and straightened, snapping out a salute. “I understand, sir.”

“Good. I’ll let Abrax know how well you did here today.”

Olem led the man outside and then returned a moment later with Vlora. She looked dusty and tired, but her step was crisp. He could tell by the smell of her that she had been burning a powder trance all morning.

“How goes it over in the Wings’ camp?” Tamas asked.

Vlora saluted, then dropped into a chair across from Tamas. “If the Kez still attack today, it’s going to be a rough thing. The Wings have three brigades pointed toward us. Abrax says if this ruse works, she’ll have time to wheel them around and be able to throw everything she has at the Kez by the middle of tomorrow morning.”

“And so we wait,” Tamas said.

Vlora nodded. “We wait.” She and Olem exchanged an unreadable glance. Tamas had been too focused on walking the line between going powder blind and managing the pain of his aching body with a powder trance during the mad ride from the Deliv border to Adopest. But whatever they had seemed to have cooled. “Has any word of my presence reached the Wings infantry?”

“Abrax is keeping it to herself and just two of her brigadiers. She agrees that we need to keep it a secret for as long as possible. A couple of the officers may have recognized me, but she’s keeping a tight lid on it.”

“Good.”

“Word’s already starting to spread here,” Olem said.

“Can’t be helped. They saw us ride in.”

“I’ve sealed the camp,” Olem added. “No one in or out without orders until morning.”

“Excellent work.”

Tamas noticed that Olem was fingering the colonel lapel pins that Tamas had given to him outside Alvation. He was going to bring it up again.

“Sir,” Olem said.

Tamas snorted. “I’m not going to demote you, Olem.”

“I would prefer if you did, sir.”

“It’s not like I’ve given you your own command – at least, not beyond the Riflejacks. You’re a colonel on special assignment. It’s not unheard of.”

“But still…”

Tamas raised his hand in a gesture that he hoped would put an end to the argument, though he knew that hope was vain. Olem was utterly convinced he was not colonel material. “I like having you in a position where you can give orders,” Tamas said. “Try not to be so glum about it. I won’t give you a large command until you’re ready for it. Mark my words, you’ll be a general – a proper one – within ten years.”

Olem looked as if he were about to laugh in Tamas’s face. He seemed to quell the urge. “I won’t shave, sir. Not even to make general.”

“I like the beard,” Vlora said. “More soldiers should have them.”

“Now, don’t you start.” Tamas pointed at her. “I’ll take that shit from him because he’s my last line of defense against assassination. I won’t take it from you.”

“Fine job he did with Hilanska.”

Olem bristled at that, his back stiffening and his face going slack. Tamas glanced at Vlora. That had been coldhearted – she knew Olem had been away, following orders. And Olem took his duties very seriously. Tamas opened his mouth for a rebuke, but closed it when he saw the look on Vlora’s face. She had paled slightly and was looking at the floor. She already regretted saying it.

“Sir, is there anything else I can do?” Olem asked woodenly.

“Stay close,” Tamas said. “But, speaking of Hilanska…”

“I’ve got a whole company after him already. They’ll catch him and his cohorts and bring them back in chains.”

“You did well, Olem. And this minor thing” – he gestured to where the knife wound was hidden beneath his coat – “will heal in time.” He felt a twinge of pain when he moved, despite his powder trance.

“Yes sir.” The words were stiff.

Tamas rubbed his eyes. He usually used this time before a battle to meet with his commanding officers and plan backup strategies, but he’d already given the orders he’d needed to give, and everything was banked on the Kez answer to his fake communiqué. If it worked, they’d have an extra day in which to plan. If it didn’t, battle would commence within the hour.

He knew he should be doing
something
. But he just couldn’t bring himself to get moving. He tried to tell himself it was just exhaustion from the road – a few moments of quiet and he would be ready to take on the road. But he wasn’t just exhausted. His bones ached; every wound new and old hurt; and his mind longed for sleep. Age had caught up with him over these last few months.

And the fact that he couldn’t focus on the task at hand meant that he was ignoring something more important.

“Sir,” Vlora said quietly, “what of Taniel? We know where Hilanska sent his men.
P
erhaps…”
S
he trailed off.

That
couldn’t be more important than the task at hand. Taniel might be his son, but he was merely one man. This day determined the fate of an entire country. “I know my duties, Captain,” Tamas said.

Vlora looked as if she wanted to say more. Instead, she crossed the room to where Olem stood by the entrance. Olem eyed her, but did not stop her, when she reached inside his jacket for tobacco and rolling paper. She rolled a cigarette slowly, her eyes never leaving Olem’s face, then struck one of his matches and lit the end, inhaling deeply. The smoke rolled out of her nostrils and she offered the cigarette to Olem.

Tamas thought of telling them both not to smoke in the tent, but he wanted to see how this played out. It was a peace offering, something to take the sting off of what she’d said a minute ago.

Olem took the cigarette and clenched it between his lips. Tamas felt himself letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

The tent flap swung open and someone whispered to Olem. “A moment, sir,” Olem said, stepping outside.

Tamas found himself alone with Vlora. He knew she wanted to say something about Taniel. He stared at her, hoping that his expression brooked no argument, but as the silence went on, he almost wished she
would
say something. He could deal with her accusations and disappointment. He could fight that.

He couldn’t fight his own.

Olem stepped into the tent once more, letting in a breeze tinged with the smell of cigarette smoke. “Sir,” he said, “our man is back. The Kez didn’t send back an answer, but their brigades are already leaving the field. We have until tomorrow.”

Tamas got to his feet, coughing into his hand to hide the grimace of pain. “Then let’s hope the Kez haven’t gotten more cunning since we left. How many of your Riflejacks have you found so far?”

“Hilanska sent them all back to their own companies. I’ve tracked down about two hundred of the picked men.”

“Gather them up, would you? We have work to do.”

K
resimir – or rather the doll used to control him – couldn’t be moved yet.

Taniel had been fighting a growing panic all night. He hadn’t slept. He’d barely eaten. The arrival of morning had only deepened his anxiety.

“We have to go,” Taniel said.

Ka-poel shook her head adamantly. She crouched over a casket made of sticks and dried grass. It was a box, no bigger than a soldier’s kit, meant to contain a god.

“They’ll be here by midday,” Taniel said.

Ka-poel didn’t respond. She’d finished the casket only a few hours ago. Every moment since had been spent painting thin, perfectly straight lines on the outside using a horsehair brush she’d produced from within her rucksack. She used her blood for ink and it dried as a surprisingly bright crimson, not at all the dark rust of dried blood.

The whole thing made Taniel uneasy – more so than usual.

“Half a company of Adran infantry armed with air rifles are camped less than two miles away,” he said. “They’re climbing from their tents now and breaking camp, ready to continue their search. They’ll find us by midday, if we’re lucky. We can’t possibly fight that many. They’ll kill us both and then free Kresimir. We
have
to go.”

Ka-poel didn’t seem to agree with him. She kept painting, her hand steady and slow, as if she’d not heard a word.

Taniel touched her shoulder. “Pole…”

She whirled suddenly, throwing the brush across the cave and leaping to her feet. He found himself retreating from her advance. Her face was twisted into a scowl and her fists were clenched at her sides. She backed him up against the very edge of the cave and leaned toward him, managing to loom even though she was so much smaller than he. She tapped her hand against her chest, then the side of her head, and made a negative motion. She repeated the series of gestures two more times and then pointed to the casket.

I don’t know what I’m doing.
 

Taniel noticed for the first time that her hair and shirt were soaked with sweat. Her shoulders shook. Unshed tears shone in the corners of her eyes, and Taniel finally realized how much this was taking out of her. He knew that Bone-eyes could create enchantments. They had made enchanted bullets called redstripes for the colonists in Fatrasta, and Ka-poel had even done it once for him – though he’d never witnessed the process. This must be like that.

He glanced at the casket and remembered the thin line of red that encircled the bullets and gave redstripes their names.

Of course. This was
exactly
like redstripes. She had to use her own blood in the enchantments.

Was that what she had done the other day when she wiped her blood on his cheeks? Enchanted him? How much energy did this take? He saw her again with new eyes, saw the depth of her exhaustion and how her eyes seemed sunken and her cheeks hollow. Her clothes hung off her as if on a tailor’s mannequin.

She was killing herself to keep Kresimir from breaking free, and yet she still used some of her power on him.

Ka-poel returned to her project, silent as always.

Taniel collected two knives and a bayonet that he’d taken from the Adran soldiers the other day. He regretted not stealing an air rifle. He could have at least used it as a pike with a bayonet on the end, but in his arrogance he’d broken them all in the Adran camp.

He kissed Ka-poel on the cheek, trying not to be put off by the way she turned away from him, and then left the cave behind, heading up and over the ridge and then following it to the east toward the Adran camp.

It didn’t take him longer than an hour to spot the advance elements of the company of Adran infantry. Six of them worked their way up the canyon slowly, cautiously, their rifles clutched in both hands and their eyes on the ridgelines high above them on either side.

He took up a position about three hundred yards above the floor of the canyon and hunkered down to wait.

The vanguard turned out to be fifty paces ahead of the rest of the company. The company was forced to advance in single file and, unlike the vanguard, they weren’t apprising themselves of their surroundings. They were fresh and overconfident. Some of the men joked, their chipper voices bouncing off the canyon walls. Taniel had hoped that his display to the squad the other day would make them more cautious, but that didn’t seem to be the case.

After all, they were only hunting one man and this was broad daylight.

Taniel knew he couldn’t fight all eighty of them. He didn’t stand a chance.

He waited until the entire company was within sight, strung out as they were along the canyon floor, and the center of the company was directly below his position. Then he lashed out with one foot at the log beside him and dashed out of the way as twenty tons of rubble immediately began to thunder down the canyon walls.

He couldn’t win, but he would damn well take as many of them to the Pit with him as possible.

The canyon echoed with the screams of the dying and the yells of the survivors as the thunder finally subsided in the wake of Taniel’s avalanche.

The sound made Taniel sick. He hadn’t wanted to kill his own countrymen. These men had friends and family. Children and wives and husbands. He might have fought beside some of them. He might have trained beside them.

It was no different from killing any enemy, he reminded himself. This was war. He had to kill or be killed.

Taniel stealthily stuck his head out from his hiding place to examine his handiwork.

The avalanche had cut the Adran company in half. At least ten of them had been buried by the falling rocks and another dozen or so wounded. A captain was pinned to the floor of the canyon by a boulder on his leg, and Taniel could hear his howls of pain. A lieutenant stood above him, directing a simultaneous defense-and-rescue mission. The infantry had scattered to whatever cover they could find, and now everyone had their eyes on the canyon’s walls.

They began to dig out their wounded, and when it became apparent that an attack was not imminent, two squads continued their journey up the canyon.

This was good news and bad news. The good news was that he’d split their forces. The bad news was that those two squads were heading toward Ka-poel’s cave.

He set off at a run just beneath the ridgeline, where he could be plainly seen by the soldiers below. A shout of alarm followed him a moment later and he heard the soft pop of air rifles. The distance was far too great for them to actually hit him, but he ducked behind a boulder anyway and took a moment to look back.

The lieutenant pointed toward him, shouting after the two squads. The two squad sergeants conferred, and then one squad headed straight up the steep incline toward Taniel while the other set about looking for a goat path or some other way to flank him.

Taniel had their attention now, and that’s what mattered.

He led the two squads on a chase along the ridgeline for over a mile. Of the twenty-four men, only three kept up with his pace, outstripping their comrades in their attempt to catch up. After all, they only had to get close enough for a shot with an air rifle to bring Taniel down. Hilanska must have offered a reward for his head. Soldiers normally weren’t this zealous.

The thought hardened Taniel’s heart against his reluctance to kill more of his countrymen. These men would gun him down without hesitation. They were hunting him like a dog.

He risked a dash across open ground, flinching at the pop of air rifles and the sound of bullets skipping off of the stone behind him. They were still just out of range, but a lucky shot aimed high might wound him. He leapt a fissure and continued on for some thirty paces before the ground gave way to rockier terrain and he leapt back into cover.

Out of sight of the squad, he doubled back, running in a crouch beneath the lip of a boulder until he was inside the fissure that he’d jumped only moments ago.

Taniel wondered what his father would say if he saw any of his own men being led into such an obvious trap.

Probably that the damned fools deserved to die.

The first pursuer leapt the fissure only a few moments after Taniel was in position. As the second set of legs flew overhead, he reached up and grabbed a boot, yanking down. The man dropped his air rifle with a clatter and landed face-first on the lip of the fissure, leaving a smear of blood behind.

The third of the group skidded to a stop and knelt beside his comrade. Taniel made a running leap and grabbed this one by the front of his jacket, dragging him back into the fissure. The soldier let out a strangled scream before Taniel silenced him by slamming his face repeatedly against the rocks. He snatched the air rifle from the dead man’s hands and checked it for damage.

Air rifles were notoriously more unreliable than conventional muskets and rifles. The mechanisms broke easily and the air reserves leaked. This one seemed sound, and Taniel checked the chamber and shouldered the butt.

“Glouster?” The first pursuer had noticed his companion’s absence and turned. “Glouster, are you all right? Allier looks like he’s hurt bad. Pit, Glouster, say something!”

Taniel felt a pang at the panic in the young man’s voice. The fear must be setting in, overrunning his adrenaline. He’d be wondering if his eyes had tricked him. Hadn’t Taniel disappeared into the rocks ahead? How could he possibly be in that dark fissure?

The infantryman came into view, his rifle shouldered, squinting into the fissure.

Taniel shot him in the chest.

He took spare ammunition and air reserves from the dead infantrymen and followed his hidden path back to the rocks. The rest of the squad would catch up any moment, and they wouldn’t be as stupid as their comrades.

He ambushed two more infantrymen in the rocks, and then three more after them, using their bulky kits and unwieldy bayoneted rifles against them in the close confines of the rock formations.

He shot another with his captured air rifle just a few moments later, but the damned mechanism broke before he could fire another round, and he was forced to flee, with the remainder of the two squads hot on his heels.

They stayed in a tight formation now, not letting themselves be led on by his tricks.

Taniel knew he was running out of ground. This ridge went on for a couple of miles before it meandered into one of the thousands of valleys that crisscrossed this mountain range. He needed to be rid of the rest of his pursuers before he doubled back and figured out a way to deal with the remaining infantrymen down in the canyon. There was another fissure along here somewhere that would let him get behind his enemy and…

Taniel swung around a boulder to find himself staring out into the sky. The drop below him must have been more than two hundred feet down a sheer rock face into a barren streambed. He searched about him for another escape route, but there was nothing but bare, vertical rock to be found. A ledge to his right gave way to more such rock and a narrow outcropping that would doubtlessly give them a firing platform.

Somewhere, he’d taken a wrong turn. He was at a dead end.

He looked back around the boulder the way he came. Maybe he had time to get back and find another route before they caught up.

The flash of Adran blues sent him back behind his boulder. He could hear the shouts of his pursuers.

“He went down this path here.”

“Careful on that, no line of sight. He could be hiding anywhere.”

“Cover me from above.”

“All right, you three with me. Try to go around that way, lads.”

Taniel risked a glance to see four soldiers working their way down the goat path he’d followed. They were less than twenty paces away, and would reach him within moments. The other soldiers would find that outcropping sooner or later and he was a dead man.

If this damned air rifle hadn’t broken, he might be able to defend himself at range.

When the first bayonet came within sight around the edge of the boulder, Taniel reached past it to grab the barrel and leveraged his weight against the man holding it. Caught by surprise, the infantryman slid and tumbled several feet and then plummeted the rest of the way down into the gorge, the end of his fall punctuated by the silencing of his scream.

“Bloody pit, he’s right there!”

“Hold it together.”

“He just threw Havin right off the edge! Did you see that? He’s going to…”

Taniel didn’t wait to find out what the infantryman thought he was going to do. He rounded the corner, gripping his broken air rifle like a pike, and shoved the bayonet into the talking man’s chest. The man gave a garbled yell and fell, grabbing the kit of the man behind him as he went and sending them both tumbling over the edge.

Taniel and the last soldier stared at each other for a moment before the man brought his air rifle to his shoulder in one quick move and pulled the trigger.

Click.
 

“They’re so damned unreliable, aren’t they?” Taniel asked.

The man swore and jabbed at Taniel with his bayonet. Taniel danced back to dodge the thrust and found himself slipping. He dropped his own rifle instinctively to grab for purchase and listened with a lump in his throat as his best weapon clattered down into the gorge.