Chapter 262 – Siege

Akana Praediar’s attacks on Torrviol had been blunted initially, but as the 243rd loop proceeded, they redoubled their efforts, now coming from the south instead of the west. Presumably, that meant Cairnmouth had become occupied. Occasionally, Mirian would negotiate with a leadership figure and agree to halt attacks on Torrviol, only to have something happen and the attacks redouble.

It didn’t make sense. How much blood is worth the Gate? Who is behind undermining the negotiations? The continued attacks didn’t make logical or political sense. The most powerful people in Akana’s leadership had to know the stuff about the Gate being a secret weapon was bullshit. There was no rational motivation to throw so many soldiers’ lives away. Then there’s another hand at work. There must be. Scebur? she wondered. They would have been unhindered by Liuan this cycle. But if Scebur just wanted to look for relics in Baracuel, throwing the country into chaos and war and blowing up libraries and temples was a stupid way to do it.

Either way, she had work to do, and she was still too stubborn to give up.

The defensive scheme she and General Hanaran worked out was that her soldiers would man fortified strong-points with overlapping fields of fire, each of which was connected by passages in the Torrviol Underground. This would force any Akanan forces to commit a large number of soldiers and sorcerers to overwhelm the defenders, but then those concentrations of force could be more easily wiped out by Mirian.

The problem was that she had to sleep sometime. Eventually, the Akanans seemed to settle on a strategy of probing attacks every few hours to try to trigger a response. They’d gotten better at hiding their artillery in the thick forest south of town, then better at scattering after a probing attack. If Mirian didn’t respond, sometimes they then concentrated their forces and assaulted a strongpoint. Torrviol was cut off from reinforcements as long as she kept the Gates aligned as they were, so a war of attrition worked in their favor.

Then, Hanaran’s diviners noticed a new build up of forces, a clear indication of an incoming attack.

One of the intelligence officers briefed Mirian. “Our divination caught glyphs found only in levitation wands and magebane rifles. A lot of them. That means they’ve deployed their Sorcerer Elite. That’s Akana’s equivalent of the Praetorians.”

“Something special about these ‘magebane’ rifles that goes beyond spellpiercer ammo?”

“Someone high up in the Deeps might be able to tell you more. We just got the need-to-know intelligence.”

If it’s secretive, it’s probably orichalcum bullets. The Church has less centralized power than the Luminates, so they’ve had an easier time using the holy metals as a secret weapon.

“How many?”

“Sorcerer Elite groups deploy as half-companies. Twenty high-myr sorcerers, backed by ten rifles, ten battlemages, and the last ten are communications and officers to coordinate. Given what we’ve picked up on, there’s at least three companies deployed, though there could be more in the rear. The diviners have also picked up glyph mixes that don’t align with any military group we know about.”

Interesting. Does that mean a unit they’ve managed to keep hidden, or some kind of irregular? “Are there Baracueli units that match the glyphs you’re picking up?”

That thought clearly disturbed the intelligence officer. “I don’t believe so, but we’ll double check. You think…?”

“General Corrmier is a traitor. It’s possible some of the Baracueli Army is assisting this operation.”

The officer’s face contorted briefly with rage before he could hide it again. “Yes, Prophet,” he said, and withdrew.

Mirian looked out from the battlements of Bainrose Castle at the smoldering wreckage that surrounded Torrviol. Months of fighting had filled the fields and woods with broken spell wagons and shattered artillery. The castle’s west wall had become a pile of rubble, and the southern farms were blackened.

There is no beauty in this, she thought, and wrinkled her nose. When the airship dreadnoughts had burned, the air had become acrid, and the stench had lingered. Nothing seemed to clean it.

Mirian levitated down from the wall and to the courtyard. She blinked beneath it, then went through the Gate.

She emerged, only slightly damp, from the Mahatan Oasis and went to the palace.

Gabriel was in his favorite room, now redecorated with his favorite furniture, surrounded by women and wine. Mirian hadn’t asked what he’d done with the prince. She spoke in Cuelsin so that most of the people around him wouldn’t be able to understand. “I’m going to be redirecting the Gate soon. That will cut the cycle short, but it’ll still be longer than the Gate being destroyed.”

Gabriel gave her a pointed, mournful look, then looked around. “Are you sure you can’t just destroy Akana’s armies by yourself? You’ve trashed one army group, what’s a few more?” Then he gave a real sigh, and Mirian saw the flicker of an expression she rarely saw on the man. It was like a dark cloud had passed over his face, just for a moment. A glimpse of the man behind the mask.

“Did you want to talk?” Mirian asked quietly.

His tone was cold and even. “What would be the point? Most days I can forget and live in the moment. I do detest not being able to keep anything I’ve built.” Then he perked up, his emotions back under control. “Well, you’ll have to ask Ibrahim how his little vacation to Mayat Shadr went, because there’s no chance of those nagual making it back across the sea. I think a few of them are making the attempt, but I’d bet thousand florins they don’t make it. No word from the island at all, but I’m sure they’re fine. As far as I can tell, every army group Akana has made the crossing, so there’s none left to harass Tlaxhuaco. Akana took Palendurio easily, had to bleed a bit to get Cairnmouth, but now there’s guerrilla warfare along the farms and villages of the west. That’s screwing up their ability to move east, and without our bloodthirsty friend leading the Rambalda revolt, Alkazaria’s in a much better position.”

Gabriel took a long sip of wine, then continued. “Took a few weeks, but once the remains of parliament got it in their heads what was happening, they gave what was left of Dawn’s Peace and those Naasqual up in Falijmali great deals, then started pulling everything they could north. One of the Baracueli Admirals is moving up and down Persama’s coast on his own sea campaign. He can’t even harass southern Rift Sea logistics, but what he can do is prevent so much as a gram of foss from moving north. I think he also planned on intercepting trade convoys moving north from Zhighua, but joke’s on him, the leviathans already ate them all. Florin City is staying neutral—big shock, I’m sure—but with the rail lines cut, Akana Praediar simply can’t move east. They’re flying sorties with the smaller airships—caught that Baracueli admiral off guard at least once—but I don’t think dropping spellbombs on cities is having the effect they thought it would, and the Baracueli navy quickly learned to stay out of range.”

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“Where are they concentrating forces?”

“Aside from Torrviol? Well, they need a big chunk of the army dedicated to occupation, because Corrmier’s a wildcard and they don’t trust him. There’s a big buildup north of the Casnevar Mountains and in one of the southern passes. I think the one up north is a feint, and they plan to move south, take Rambalda so they can get the foss flowing again. Once they’ve done that, they can start slowly pushing along the Ibaihan River to Alkazara, then grind them down with a siege. Eventually, I think they’d win, but the armies would bleed for a few years.”

Gabiel took another sip of wine, then raised his goblet. “So there you have it! We finally have an answer to what happens with the Akanan invasion. Well, mostly. Those dreadnoughts falling out of the sky threw a flush onto a pile of pairs.”

Mirian raised an eyebrow. “Was that a card metaphor?”

“Hah! Forgot you don’t do those. I still maintain that if the dreadnoughts don’t get turned into refuse piles that Akana pulls through much faster and with fewer casualties. Corrmier slaughtering a bunch of priests in the Grand Sanctum, though… I honestly don’t know why he did that. If he doesn’t do that, I don’t think you get nearly the kind of irregular resistance around the countryside and Akana could get foss flowing through Rambalda.”

That was strange. Corrmier was allied with the noble family that Pontiff Oculo was party of. Without knowing the details of the situation, though, it was hard to say what happened. A falling out between the families? A mistake? Or was Corrmier always going to try to consolidate his power? She thought of what Zhuan had said about elite tendencies.

Mirian mulled over what the other Prophet had told her. “And how confident are you that what you’ve just told me is actually true?”