Kingdom River

'All costing an absolute fortune,' Charles said.

'And only the first expense, Charles.'

'Meaning what, Sam?'

'Meaning that Howell and the cavalry are not coming back south… Meaning that during the next two to three Warm-time weeks – presuming the Kipchaks intend nothing serious west of the Bend – during the next two to three weeks, all the army, all reserves, and selected militia companies, will gather to march north over the border, up the Gulf coast into Map West-Louisiana, then north again into Map-Arkansas and the Hills-Ozark.'

Sam finished speaking into a silence that seemed deep as dark water.

'… My God Almighty.' An oath from Jaime Rascob that would have called for burning, a few decades before.

Another silence, then, until Phil Butler broke it. 'About time.' Butler had a rusty voice. 'If the Khan takes the Kingdom, we're next. There's no doubt about that.' One of his tiny dogs – not Poppy – climbed up onto his left shoulder like a cat. 'Yes,' Eric said. 'I suppose… about time. But surely after the winter would be better.'

'After the winter,' Elvin Rascob said, 'with the Kipchaks already campaigned down that frozen river, Middle Kingdom would be dead as me.'

'Right,' Howell said. 'He'll go up into Map-Missouri now, take a river port – and as the Mississippi freezes, send his tumans down the ice. Split the Kingdom, East-bank from West… and the whole thing will be in his hands.'

'And then,' Jaime said, 'he'd come for us.'

Lamplight seemed to waver slightly in Sam's sight, move to the rhythm of his heartbeat. Relief… relief and a deep breath no one must see him draw. These men, and Margaret, might have said, 'No. No war. We won't have it unless we're invaded. The army won't have it. The people won't have it!'… They might have said so, knowing he would never stand, take his sword from the rack, and walk out to gather loyal soldiers, order the hangman to stretch and grease his ropes.

'Once in the Hills-Ozark,' Sam said, 'we'll threaten the Khan's lines of supply and communication with Caravanserai, and with his ports on the Ocean Pacific. Very long lines of supply. Everything for his army will have to come through broken country just north of us.' Sam picked up the carving knife, stroked its edge across mutton bones on the serving platter. 'He will not be able to let that stand. He'll have to turn from the Kingdom's river to strike us.'

Howell nodded. 'And when he turns…'

'We fight him, and hope Middle Kingdom strikes the rest of his army, in the north, at the same time.'

'Their armies are supposed to be good enough,' Ned said, 'and if, as we hear from Eric, those warships are truly capable, skating around on the ice…'

'My people have reported on those ships, Ned. And what they report is so.'

'No offense meant, Eric. But we would be depending on those people. What's the guarantee of their fighting hard enough in the north to tie down half the Khan's army?'

'As yet – none.' Sam tapped the carving knife's point on his plate. A soft ringing sound. 'But it makes good sense for them to do it. Together, we'd have the Kipchaks in a toothed spring-trap, with jaws even Toghrul might not be able to break.'

'If you can persuade the Boxcars – and then, as Ned says, depend on them.' Eric smiled. 'And they've always been slow at war. Strong, but slow. Two armies, Left- and Right-bank – always kept separate – and the Fleet, and the river lords, don't make for quick response.'

'Ah…' Butler stroked a dog. 'But if Middle Kingdom will move, we can play kickball with him. Toghrul campaigns north to the river, is heavily engaged – then has to turn south to us, while hoping the rest of his army still holds in the north. We've given him two chances to lose.'

'Yes,' Sam said. 'The Kingdom to his front, and us coming up his ass right across his lines of supply. We'll see how Kipchak tumans enjoy campaigning with enemies north and south of them. We'll see how they enjoy fighting us in hills and forest, our kind of country. And they'll have to fight us, or winter-starve.' Sam examined lamplight gleaming down the carving knife's blade. 'Which reminds me; our dear Catania said there were likely still the old Trappers, though only a few, in North Map-Texas. Perhaps, Eric, if you sent a person riding far north now, to ask in her name and mine, they might sled down to interfere with those supply lines here and there. Teach the Kipchaks lessons in deep-snow fighting.'

'That can be done.'

'All very nice,' Ned said, 'if Lord Winter and Lady Weather cooperate. Nice, if everything goes perfectly.'

'Almost perfectly will do, Ned.' Sam put the carving knife down. 'I know no other way to beat him.'

'He could withdraw early,' Howell said. 'Take his losses… plan to deal with us next year. And after that, go back to the Kingdom.'

'He could,' Sam said, 'if his pride can bear a thousand-mile retreat, his tribesmen swallow it. And after that, he'd find us and Middle Kingdom firmly allied, and the more ready to deal with him… Truth is, the Khan has made a mistake. He's sent a small force against us, thinking we'll be concerned about our border, and will only deal with that – for instance, by return-raiding up to Map-Fort Stockton – while he passes us by in his campaign against the Kingdom. I don't think it will occur to Toghrul that Map-Fort Stockton might be only cover for positioning Howell's cavalry to screen our army as it moves north past the Gulf and up through Map-Louisiana and Map-Arkansas.'

'That is nice.' Ned blew gently on his bandaged stump, as if to cool it.'

'So I hope,' Sam said. 'The Khan's made a serious mistake, but I doubt he'll make another. Our time against him is now… or never.'

Consideration to that was given in silence around the table. It seemed to Sam to have become an evening of silences.

'I agree,' Jaime said, and Elvin grunted behind his bandanna.

'Yes,' Ned said. 'We go for the son of a bitch.'

'Keeping in mind,' Howell said, 'that if the Boxcars aren't with us, don't fight in the north – then we are fucked, and the Kipchaks will chase us all the way to Map-Mexico City.'

'Phil?'

Butler sighed, and bent to set a dog on the floor. 'Seems an opportunity to me, Sam. Man spreads his legs – your pardon, Margaret – why not kick him in the nuts?'

'Still' – Charles shook his head – 'still… organizing this in a matter of days. And paying for winter campaigning, Sam. The whole army, for Nailed Jesus' sake!'

'I know, Charles. I know. But we couldn't prepare properly for war without the Khan knowing it. It's important he feels free to move east to invade the Kingdom, commit most of his forces to it.'

'And will our soldiers appreciate this short notice, Sam, when they're freezing, starving in winter hills?'

'What they will appreciate, Charles, will be those supplies that you and Eric see come up to them, at whatever cost.'

'And if – even supplied, even aided by the Boxcars – the army loses this war?'

'… Then, Charles, I suppose some young officer will gather new cavalry – draft-horse cavalry, wind-broken cavalry – and skirmish over the foothills while new infantry gathers in the Sierra.' Sam smiled. 'Old-man infantry, young-boy infantry, girl infantry, thief-and-bandit infantry. And our people will raid out of those mountains, and suffer the Kipchaks' raids, while the Khan Toghrul grows old and dies. And while his son lives, and his son's son, until finally a weakling rules at Caravanserai, and the Khanate breaks apart. Then, our people will come down from the mountains, and make North Map-Mexico again.'

The evening's fourth silence.

'Well…' Charles stared down at his plate, as if the future might be read in mutton bones and remnant potato. 'It will mean no relief of taxes. Not for years.'

'And, speaking of taxes,' Sam said, 'any pigeon from Sonora?'

'The tax thing?' Lauder made a note with charcoal pencil on a fold of paper.

'What tax thing?' Howell said.