The treasurer’s gloomy train of thought came to a sudden halt as the council chamber door slid unexpectedly open.
“Forgive me for interrupting, Your Graces,” Wyllym Rayno said quickly, addressing all four of the vicars, although his attention was obviously focused on Clyntahn. “I’m afraid we’ve just received some … disturbing news.”
“What sort of ‘disturbing news’ would that be?” Clyntahn demanded. “Schueler knows we’ve already heard enough of it without your bursting in to deliver still more, Wyllym!”
“I realize that, Your Grace. Unfortunately, I saw no option but to bring this to you immediately.” The Archbishop of Chiang-wu drew a deep breath and braced himself visibly. “Your Grace, it appears Duke Fern has resigned and King Rahnyld has named Earl Thirsk to replace him as First Councilor.”
“What?!” Clyntahn shot upright in his chair, his face darkening. “Thirsk?!”
“I’m afraid so, Your Grace.” To his credit, Rayno met his superior’s suddenly fiery eyes without flinching. “We have only fragmentary information at this point, but according to first reports, he’s placed Bishop Executor Wylsynn and Father Ahbsahlahn under arrest. Many of our agents inquisitor in Gorath have also been seized, apparently by Dohlaran Army troops under Sir Rainos Ahlverez’ command. And—” the archbishop’s eyes wavered finally “—Thirsk has negotiated a cease-fire with the heretic Sarmouth.”
“I knew it!” Clyntahn slammed both fists on the conference table. “I frigging well knew it! I’ve been telling the rest of you for months that that gutless bastard would turn his coat the first moment he could! But this—this!” He pounded his fists up and down, his face purple with rage. “The whole damned kingdom’s turned against Mother Church—betrayed God Himself! Shan-wei must be cackling in hell, and you three are the ones who kept me from hauling Thirsk back here and dealing with him before he could sell his entire kingdom to her! What do you think’s going to happen now that he’s gotten away with it? You think some of the other weak-kneed gutless wonders out there won’t be thinking about doing exactly the same thing? Of course they will!”
Duchairn glanced at Maigwair from the corner of one eye, but neither of them spoke, and Clyntahn’s lip curled in contemptuous fury. Then he turned back to Rayno, jabbing the air with an emphatic forefinger.
“I want every Dohlaran in the Temple Lands taken into custody—immediately!” he snarled. “Every one of them, Wyllym—do you understand me?! I want them arrested, and I want them sifted, and any of them—any of them—with any connection to Thirsk or the other traitors to Mother Church will face the Question and the Punishment! I don’t give a spider-rat’s arse who they are, what they are, or who they’re related to. I want every one of them in custody within twenty-six hours!”
“I’ve already directed our agents inquisitor to bring in the most prominent of them, Your Grace,” Rayno replied. “There are a great many Dohlarans in the Temple Lands, however. Many of our foundry and manufactory supervisors are Dohlaran, in fact, and so is quite a bit of our labor force. I’m not certain we have enough manpower to arrest all of—”
“Don’t frigging tell me we don’t have enough manpower!” Clyntahn barked. “Find it! Transfer whoever you have to transfer, but get it done, Wyllym!”
“Of course, Your Grace!” Rayno bowed deeply. “I’ll see to it immediately.”
“See that you damned well do. Now go get started!”
“At once, Your Grace!”
Rayno bowed again, deeper even than before, and vanished, and Clyntahn settled back into his chair. Fury continued to radiate from him, and the council chamber’s very air seemed to quiver with it.
“I told you this would happen.” The words came out remarkably quietly, but they were wrapped around a core of white-hot rage. “I told you, but would you listen? No, of course you wouldn’t!”
“We don’t know for certain yet what’s happening,” Duchairn said very cautiously. Clyntahn’s furious glare focused on him, and the treasurer shrugged. “I’m only saying that Wyllym himself said his reports were fragmentary, Zhaspahr.”
“Of course we know!” Clyntahn snapped. “This is what the miserable prick’s been planning from the beginning—from the first time he didn’t want to surrender his precious heretics to the Punishment!”
Duchairn started to reply, then stopped himself, and a deadly silence fell as the implications of a complete Dohlaran collapse went through all of their minds.
In many ways, it really changed nothing, Duchairn thought. Charisian control of the Gulf of Dohlar had already severed both South Harchong and Dohlar from the Temple Lands and the northern front, where the decisive grapple was underway. A Dohlaran withdrawal from the Jihad would free Earl Hanth’s Army of Thesmar to reinforce High Mount, making Silken Hills’ withdrawal even more urgent, but it would take time, and probably a lot of it, for Hanth to redeploy. Not that it really mattered how long it took—not in the end.
Mother Church had been reduced to the resources of the Temple Lands, whatever minor contribution the Border States could make, and North Harchong. And what that really meant was that her field armies had been reduced solely to the Temple Lands for their support.
The Mighty Host might still be in the field, and additional troops might still be on the march from the Empire, but Charisian control of the Harchong Narrows had already cut off every North Harchong foundry, mine, and farm west of the Chiang-wu Mountains from the day they’d retaken Claw Island. Now, with the entire Gulf closed, the only remaining Harchongese water transport to the Temple Lands was down the St. Cahnyr River out of the Langhorne Mountains or along the Hayzor-Westborne Canal out of the extreme eastern edge of Maddox Province. Those routes served less than five percent of the total Empire; everything else might as well be on the moon for all the good it did the Jihad.
And the Border States won’t be able to supply anything remotely close to our requirements, Duchairn thought. For that matter, how many of them will even try to? Because Zhaspahr has a point, damn him … especially if Charis and Siddarmark are smart enough to offer Thirsk generous terms. With Charisian and Siddarmarkian armies marching steadily deeper into their own territories, the Border State rulers will be looking at the example of Dohlar—and Chisholm, and Emerald, and Corisande, and Tarot, and every other realm that’s made its peace with Charis or simply dropped out of the Jihad, like Desnair.
It’s over.
The thought went through his mind softly, quietly, with something almost like a sense of … relief. No, not relief. That was the wrong word. But he couldn’t think of the right word for the strange empty, singing silence deep within him.
It doesn’t matter what Brygham or Walkyr or Rainbow Waters can do in the field, he thought. Not anymore. There’s simply no physical way we can haul enough food, enough ammunition, or enough men forward to support them. They could fight like Chihiro himself come back to earth, and it wouldn’t change one damned thing in the end.