On Shippen the fact that there was a war on, that men were dying as great religions strove to resolve their relative merits in trial by combat, no longer seemed due much interest.
There was a dearth of determined true believers on both sides, on that island. No one demonstrated any special interest in making sure his God would be the sole survivor of the contest.
Brother Candle enjoyed his time on Shippen thoroughly, loafing and debating nonsense with anyone who felt like bothering. Elsewhere, though, if overly dramatic dispatches could be credited, cataclysms were being brewed.
No one on Brother Candle's side of the Strait of Rhype much cared to find out what those might be.
30. Alameddine and Calzir
All things move slower and take longer. In most cases they also cost more. The Grail Emperor hoped to push through the Vaillarentiglia Mountains in time to distress the Calziran harvest. Only a few of Vondera Koterba's companies
made it. A handful of Imperial scouts went with them. They were feeble but had little difficulty fending off the few ragged, undisciplined Calzirans they encountered. They encountered none of the dreaded Praman sorceries they had heard about since childhood.
Calzir's political landscape was as chaotic as elsewhere in Firaldia. Several minor warlords offered to change sides if they could retain their holdings. That availed them nothing. Sublime did not want Unbeliever allies.
The Lucidians and Dreangereans dealt harshly with Calzirans they suspected of unstable loyalties. I
Forces like Else's Brothen City Regiment, swollen to more than four thousand men, with attendant animals and hangers-on, were much delayed. Practicalities and political infighting hamstrung progress.
Else and his staff performed miracles of organization and training. Their efforts received universal kudos. Even Ferris Renfrew offered the occasional grudging nod during brief respites from spying on Calzir.
No matter how well prepared the City Regiment became, it never marched. The orders to do so never came because of squabbling on high.
Similar petty behavior hampered volunteer formations throughout the Patriarchal States.
The Five Families all wanted more than a fair share of what might be gained in Calzir. On a lesser scale, the Patriarch, the Collegium, the Brotherhood of War, and every city raising forces, were equally driven by greed. There was so much confidence in a Chaldarean victory that none of the players concerned themselves about the cost of impeding progress.
'My patience is exhausted,' Else said. 'We have to get away from these insane, overgrown children.'
'And here we go,' Pinkus Ghort told him. The occasion was a small, private staff meeting more than a month past the target date Hansel had set for first operations. 'We send the ready companies south now. One a day. Titus has the transit stuff set. It's going to fall apart if we don't use it.'
'Interesting.' Moving single companies was something Else could do without getting approval from a dozen interfering Brothes. 'How long before the bigwigs start squawking?'
'That'll depend on who's paying attention. Renfrow ought to catch on first. But he spends most of his time in Calzir. Spying. The Deves down there have been producing some great intelligence. But they're getting nervous. We're taking too damned long. The Lucidians and Dreangereans have gotten real active, lately. The Deves are scared they'll figure out what's going on and deal harshly with the infidel community.'
Else asked, “Titus, what do you think about that?'
'He's right. Calzir's Devedians are scared. Devedians everywhere are scared. It's part of being a Deve.'
'I'm in no position to reassure anyone.'
'You don't concern them much, sir.'
The Devedian community had given him no cause for disappointment. Though their efficiency at pulling things together stirred old, deep suspicions. Was there any truth in those old tales of secret Devedian brotherhoods out to control the world surreptitiously?
Gledius Stewpo always mocked that notion. He could spark off scores of plausible arguments against it, but there were times when one had to wonder. As, say, when one found Deves armed with firepowder weapons capable of bringing down the most powerful sorcerer.
'Don't be silly,' Stewpo told Else. 'If we had a quarter of the power those stories claim we'd never suffer the kind of crap that happened in Sonsa.'
'Uhm?' Else grunted.
'Whenever you bump noses with the notion that Deves are the secret masters, ask yourself why all the Deves you know live the way they do when everybody else lives the way they do.'
Else confessed, 'I don't care about the religious business. I don't care who believes what as long as the job gets done.'
Stewpo grinned. He lacked a front tooth, on top. A bit more hair, Else thought, and the dwarf would bear a striking resemblance to a creature out of a tale where runt folk spun straw into gold.
Stewpo's whole race hailed from a land where fairy tales reigned, though.
'No secret overlords,' Stewpo promised. 'If every Devedian agreed that that was the best idea since the Creator declared us His Chosen People, it would fall apart as soon as you pulled four Devedians together to make it happen. You think pettiness, vanity, and envy are exclusive to your world? Try being part of the Devedian underclass. Where every carat of status is jealously nurtured — and becomes a target for anybody who thinks he can profit if you lose.'
Else nodded. He could pretend to believe anything 'Titus. The companies have to move south. Now. Advise your correspondents. Gledius. I know you don't speak for Brothe's Deves. But you're the big bull Deve who's here right now. Is there going to be a Devedian company or not?' For weeks the Deves had muttered about adding a company of their own to the city regiment. But their leaders never seemed quite sure what they wanted. Nor was Else sure that the Patriarch and his henchmen would permit it. Though it was common knowledge that King Peter's combined Navayan and Connecten force including not only Chaldarean heretics but Devedians and Pramans, with the latter more numerous than right-thinking pro-Brothen Episcopals.
'There will be a small force of specialists. Men with the technical skills to help you solve your special problems.'
Else supposed that meant clerks and accountants whose most important function would be to serve as the conscience of the regiment.
The summons was so long coming that Else hoped he was being overlooked. A dozen companies had gone south, headed for an encampment near the border town Pateni Persus. One of those companies was Bruglioni. Two hundred strong, it included a dozen actual members of the family. The Arniena force, commanded by Rogoz Sayag, was as large. The well-armed Devedian contingent, gone early to blaze the way, numbered more than three hundred. Quite a lot of specialists.
Eight Principatйs sat behind a long table. Else recognized them all. One represented each of the Five Families. Principatй Doneto undoubtedly stood in for his cousin. A senile octogenarian did nothing but make strange noises and drool while a thirtyish bishop read his mind and spoke for him. Finally, there
was Principatй Barendt from Smoogen in the New Brothen Empire. Hansel's man.
The Madisetti Principatй was blunt. 'What do you think you're doing, General Hecht?'
Else stifled impulse. After all, he had just been promoted. In one man's mind. 'Could you be specific, Your Grace? I was hired to train and command a regiment that the City would place at the Holy Father's disposal. I've done that. The Holy Father has often said that he wants Calzir's punishment begun. First, it was before the harvest. Now it's before winter. But we're still here, far from Alameddine and the Vaillarentiglia Mountains, while the Five Families squabble over loot that's still in Calziran hands.'
To Else's astonishment Grade Drocker made a surprise appearance while he spoke. Drocker interjected, 'Presenting this sort with the accomplished fact is the only way things get done, Hecht. Listen up, Your Graces. I
