Assessments
They met in a sunny third-floor room, one of the odder meeting spaces in the Citadel. The style of furniture was two centuries out of date: ornately carved pieces draped in silk brocade in as many bright colors as could be gathered in one place without permanently searing the eyes. Zaid could hardly bear to look at it, but the others pretended not to notice the rioting palette. Refreshments were on the table beside stacks of boards and rolls of parchment. The room was cleared of servants, and the meeting was seated: the Tyrant first, followed by Zaid, Gobert, and Guardian Maia. If Maia hadn't been present, Father would have excused them all to do as they wished, but instead they had to follow the usual order of these things: who poured tea for whom, and in what order they all drank and then helped themselves to the delicately constructed bites of food. They dispensed with the ritual as quickly as they could without anyone giving or taking offense. At least the woman had good manners and could behave according to her (normally male) position.
"As you imagine, the mercenaries and disciples are not gifts," said Ormaz. His good pronunciation was the product of a lifetime of hard work. It was difficult to speak clearly through large canines and a beastly snout. "They were offered with conditions, but I have allowed it since they align with our goals. First, all of Nexus must be put to the sword. No exceptions. Second, destroy the gardens with fire — all except Sand Castle. As for the rebels, kill every male over five years old and any woman beyond childbearing age. Capture the remainder and hand them over to Hyskos. We will profit when they go on the market. You may ask questions."
Zaid, who remembered his mistake at Vanush, asked, "Tyrant, there won't be anything left to rule except some roads. Do
"Hadith's Line has captured Sand Castle twice and lost it twice. The desert dwellers have proven themselves impossible to rule. So, we won't rule them. The South will be a new regional authority under the Princeps, with Sand Castle at its center, populated by loyal Northerners. It will be good practice for taking my place."
Prime Minister Gobert nodded in understanding. "And the rebels can't return without shelter or men to protect them."
"And Kashmar will control transportation by land and sea," added Zaid, "which adds to profit. Faith in Hadith's Line will only increase, once we unify the country." Faith and profit were less obvious sources of power than men under arms, but they were equally crucial.
"This chance will never come again. Return victorious, my son, or do not return."
Tyrant Ormaz left to tend to other business.
"If I may," offered Guardian Maia, with her palm on one of the stacks of boards, "these are official Enclave reports on the heretic and his Nexus. You may find them useful."
Her tone of voice carried a discordant doubt, live bait for an inquisitive mind like Gobert's. "What's wrong with the reports?"
"It's fashionable these days to prove one's loyalty to Enclave with long, unnecessary paeans to Heritage. It can be distracting. You'll be served best by reading past it."
"I see. And, what happened to Phillip's entries in the Luminous Histories? I checked the temple's archives, and many lines from the last year are blacked out."
"Recently, doubts were cast over his past deeds. The Histories have been updated." To Zaid's blank expression, Maia explained, "The Luminous Histories is a record of disciple Works. Copies of that log are promulgated downward each year to the major temples. Lately, the deans have issued waves of corrections. We'll need to republish the last few years in their entirety."
Zaid had covered a blunder or two at the Tyrant's behest. Even when the truth was well-known among princes, sometimes it had to be hidden from the serfs. He had never heard of anyone re-issuing years of public record. "What's your opinion of the young, heretical Pasha? I take it you're not in the majority?"
"Enclave's official opinion is he's a peacock, all noise and feathers. It would be treason against my Vow to speak well of him in any way. It's forbidden to note The Enemy's strange intelligence and outrageous achievements or to suggest we erred by not bringing him into the fold when we had the chance. My report is at the bottom of the pile. It's been updated by the deans in light of new events.
"Do not ask me any more on the subject of Phillip the Younger. A smart ruler has their own sources of intelligence and I suggest you use them to augment our own. My final purpose today is to give you this." She pushed forward a flat, rectangular box made of gray metal. It was surprisingly light when Zaid touched it, and its lid opened easily on silent hinges.
"An identical box is on its way to Hyskos for your mercenary commander. Put something in the box, a message for example, and close the lid. In time, the contents of the two boxes will be exchanged: what was in your box appears in the distant one, and whatever was in that box will appear in yours. You'll know when the exchange happens because the box rattles. The timing is somewhat unpredictable. If you haven't used it in several days, it happens immediately. Otherwise, it can take a while.
"These are exceedingly rare devices, and they are on loan. We expect them to be returned in good condition."
She sounded like Zaid's mother, scolding him over broken stoneware. Normally, he would bristle at such a tone, but his attention was on his wondering fingers as they explored the ancient device. Coordinating forces over long distances was always a gamble. One never knew if the other army would be in place or on time, if they ran into trouble or achieved their objectives. The uncertainties grew rapidly with distance, and Kashmar was more than a gurantor week from Grand Company's headquarters in Hyskos. A command mechanism like this removed much uncertainty.
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The guardian rose to leave, but Gobert still had questions. "Guardian Maia, will you come to my house for dinner tonight? You haven't received proper hospitality since your arrival, and I'd like to make up for that lack."
"The temple is more than adequate, thank you. I return to Enclave first thing in the morning." She left with only the slightest of bows and made good her escape. The minister would have kept at her for hours if she hadn't.
"This pile is my latest intelligence," Gobert pointed his chin at a larger stack of boards and a pyramid of rolled-up parchments. "He splits his time between the city and the field, where he runs the rebels through maneuvers. We think they're practicing specific scenarios, but it's hard to be sure. Any scout that gets too close disappears. We've updated the list of known watering holes."
Gobert pulled the top board from the pile "One item of note: they're funding their war efforts with gems. We've known for a while he's had surveyors all over the desert. Now we know what he was looking for. Rebels are selling raw stones in the eastern markets at absurdly low prices."
Zaid took the offered report and scanned it. "Part of the payment has to be in goods, doesn't it? Lavradio and its neighbors are paying token amounts. They must be sending him food and bronze."
"There's a list in there of caravans that've visited and whatever's known about their cargo. A fair quantity of goods have been offloaded into rebel warehouses instead of the exchange."
"Aren't you going to tell the Guardian about the gems?"
"I would have if she'd stayed and told me more of what Enclave is holding back. We'll have a location on the mine soon, but it will cost us. We don't give out that kind of information for free."
A functioning mine implied nearby water for its workers and a potential hiding place for the enemy. It could be profitable in the future, too. Kashmar's only involvement with the gem business was providing transport and, sometimes, security. But the Princeps could profit from a mine without digging up the gems. Enclave might lease the land from him or pay him to collapse the mine and erase its existence from living memory.
They sat together for a while, digging through Enclave's reports. Maia hadn't lied about the amount of ink wasted on puffery, but that didn't change the reporters' evaluation of Phillip the Younger. He had no Heritage and was insufficiently trained. His ideas about the 'sun cycle' were outlandish. The training methods he used on his followers were perverse. The young man's successes were owed to his unusual charisma and low cunning.
The Prime Minister's reports described someone who enjoyed the counsel of better, more experienced people. He was constantly guarded, even among the Nexus faithful. When girls played the Calique kissing game with him (foreign women were famously loose, and rebel women doubly so) they only escaped him in tears. He seldom performed any prayers except Benediction, which he gave during eighth-day services.
His best attribute was a good work ethic: he trained with weapons regularly and made most of his appointments on time. But, disciples were supposed to have prayers and bulwarks to protect them, so why the daily expense of sweating behind a spear?
"So," prompted Gobert, "what do you think?"
"I think he's a puppet, held up by better men. Not the Calique, of course: their men aren't that clever. But these high-ranking people in Nexus are all defectors. They're using him to take down Enclave. They must have some collective grudge against their old church."
"I think he's a better practitioner than Enclave is telling us." Gobert was starting an argument, and Zaid was supposed to take the other side.
"Blood is everything. Hadith's Line rules the Free City because we have the fang and brains for it. The Five Families are blessed with spirit. You can't have strong practitioners without Heritage."
"So they claim. What if it isn't true?" An uncertain silence stretched between them, weighted with implications. The Five Families were recognized by Saint Bahram, the same saint who blessed Hadith's Line. If Bahram's foresight was in doubt …
"This sounds suspiciously like treason, Uncle."
"What would happen if, in some unthinkable future generation, the princes of Kashmar took their rule for granted and stopped trying? If your grandchildren didn't study governance, didn't arm themselves, didn't prune the weak from our line, what would happen then?"
"They would fail Destiny." Zaid's head bobbled derisively. "They would not be true Hadith."
"I went to the temple the other day to look up this Phillip character. The priests had just finished blacking out the ex-communicated disciples from the past three years. Do you know what's left? Most of it is one disciple who does nothing but build roads. They've killed or excommunicated their best talent, and now that talent has been anointed by Phillip the Younger."
"Impossible," Zaid said flatly. "Only Enclave can bestow prayers."
"And yet Darkmaw is dead," Gobert reminded him, "that's a tangible, incontrovertible fact. Phillip the Younger killed her with music and lightning." Zaid scoffed, but Gobert continued, "There were hundreds of witnesses. And there was that disturbance in Kashpam a while ago, remember? Enclave tried to cover it up, but my sources say Dean Katerina was killed. And a battalion of Dacian cavalry was decimated by a force they never saw.
"All of this points to an adversary who is more competent than Enclave wants to admit. Or, they've grown so complacent that a below-average disciple of sufficient wit is a threat to them."
"But they want him dead. They want it badly enough to empty their vaults, send their disciples, and give us this!" Zaid gestured at the metal box. "Why would they lie to us?"
"It's not just us they're trying to convince, is it? Your imaginary, lackluster grandchildren wouldn't want to think poorly of themselves, would they?"
Gobert let him think on that a minute, but he wasn't done. "Then there's all these new inventions. Paper, mechanical printing, glass, sounding boards, all came from Nexus. We should assume he's been channeling that talent into warfare."
Zaid felt the first twinges of worry. If his opponent could use the sounding boards in both directions, his tiny force could scatter and re-form on command.
"At least he's a child," Zaid said finally. "He lacks experience."
"And so do you." Zaid almost gave his uncle a sharp reply. Minister or not, he shouldn't talk down to someone like that, especially the Princeps. Anyone whose banner hung in the Citadel's Great Hall deserved some respect, even from the Prime Minister. But, Gobert held out a pacifying hand. "This war you're undertaking … nobody has commanded fifty thousand troops in the field since scripture's final pages were written. In that sense, it is just as new to you as it is to him."