Cayleb made a harsh sound in his throat, and Sharleyan kicked him gently on the outside of his right thigh.
“You wake her up,” she said, twitching her head in their daughter’s direction, “and you get to sing her back to sleep, Cayleb Ahrmahk!”
“I’ll be good,” he promised with a penitent smile. “But it’s Merlin’s fault for bringing up things like that.”
“Tell me you’re not going to be discussing it with Trahvys, Bynzhamyn, and Maikel first thing tomorrow morning,” Merlin challenged.
“But that’s then, not now,” Cayleb retorted.
“True.” Merlin nodded, leaning back in his own chair deep under the far-off Mountains of Light. “It’s going to be ugly, however it finally works out,” he said somberly, and it was Cayleb’s turn to nod.
“What I’m most worried about at this point, to be honest, is food,” he said. “Clyntahn timed it entirely too well from that respect, damn him to hell.”
“Agreed. But if Stohnar can hold out through the winter, our good friend the Grand Inquisitor may just find the wheels coming off his little wagon.” Merlin’s expression was no less somber, yet there was a note of grim satisfaction in his voice. “I think he actually expected to sweep the board, and it didn’t quite work out that way, did it?”
“Thanks in no small part to your friend Ahnzhelyk. Or I suppose we should call her Aivah, now.” Cayleb smiled in simple admiration. “I’ll guarantee you none of Clyntahn’s agents guessed for a moment that she had fifteen hundred trained riflemen right there in Siddar City. Which doesn’t even count the sixty-five hundred rifles hidden aboard those ships of hers on North Bay. She more than doubled the total number of modern firearms available to Stohnar.”
“Not to mention rescuing the Lord Protector’s august posterior on the very first day,” Merlin agreed. “Without her, they probably would have taken the capital, you know.”
“And massacred every Charisian and Reformist they could get their hands on,” Sharleyan put in grimly, her eyes shadowed. “It was bad enough even with her preparations, and I get sick to my stomach every time I think of what happened in so many other places.”
“I know,” Merlin said softly.
Siddar City’s Charisian Quarter was the largest, richest, and most densely inhabited in the entire Republic, but almost all of Siddarmark’s coastal cities had boasted their own Quarters. For that matter, even the larger inland towns had been home to expatriate Charisians who’d married Siddarmarkians or simply located in the Republic because of the financial opportunities.
Outside the capital, most of those Charisian communities had been effectively wiped out. Even in Siddar City, despite Aivah Pahrsahn’s preparations and Lord Protector Greyghor’s decision to divert over half his own available strength to protecting its Charisian inhabitants, over two thousand people had been killed. Rape and torture had run rampant as the rioters slaked their hatred in the blood of their victims. Nor had they restricted their activities to Charisians. Reformist churches had been burned throughout the Republic. Reformist priests had been murdered-in some cases burned to death inside their own churches-and Reformist congregations had been killed or driven into headlong flight from towns in which their families had lived for centuries.
It had been worst in the Republic’s western provinces, partly because of those provinces’ deep, often bitter resentment of the eastern provinces’ greater wealth, but also because Clyntahn and Rayno had devoted the most attention to making sure they would succeed in the provinces closest to the Temple Lands. There’d been some notable exceptions, however. In Glacierheart and Cliff Peak, the militia had turned on the insurrectionists and rabble-rousers in its own ranks and crushed the uprising within days. The same thing had happened in Icewind Province, although the situation looked much grimmer there. No one was moving any troops now that winter had closed down, but the provinces of Tarikah, New Northland, and Westmarch were all firmly in the hands of Temple Loyalists who’d denounced the Republic’s elected government as a “lackey, tool, and minion of the accursed and excommunicate Charisian heretics.” Between them, those provinces formed a blade thrusting into the Republic’s heart, and Icewind was completely isolated from the rest of the country.
The outcome was still very much in doubt in Hildermoss Province, as well, and what happened there might well be critical. If Hildermoss remained loyal to the Lord Protector, it would shield Glacierheart from any attacks out of Westmarch and protect Old Province from attacks out of Westmarch and Tarikah. More to the point, Mountaincross Province was one of the eastern provinces which had gone over to Clyntahn. If Hildermoss held, a counter-attack out of Northland and Old Province could almost certainly retake Mountaincross; if Hildermoss fell, the rebels would be able to strike directly at the capital all along Old Province’s northern frontier by early summer, at the latest.
Farther south, the Southmarch Lands were a nightmare. Clyntahn and Rayno had devoted special attention to the huge, sparsely populated area, but they’d been less successful than they’d hoped in bringing the regular Army units over to their side. The entire “province” was actually one huge military district, divided into regional commands and administered by Army officers. Indeed, one of the grievances Rayno and Laiyan Bahzkai’s agitators had appealed to was the Southmarch’s resentment that it hadn’t yet been organized into provinces with representation in the Chamber of the Senate. At least a third of the Southmarch commands had remained staunchly loyal to the Lord Protector and the central government, however, and the fighting was turning increasingly vicious.
The rebels had also managed to seize control of the southwestern portion of Shiloh Province, although it seemed unlikely they’d be able to hold on to it if Stohnar survived the winter. Unfortunately, the rebels appeared to be aware of that, and the pogroms and killings in Shiloh were brutal almost beyond belief. If southwestern Shiloh was retaken by the government, it was going to be mostly one huge sea of gutted farms and burned-out ruins.
For the moment, Southguard, Transhar, and Windmoor Provinces were at least provisionally in the Lord Protector’s column, although the situation in Southguard was confused and turning increasingly bloody. Atrocity begat atrocity, and bushwhackers and arsonists stalked one another mercilessly through the cold, rainy winter. The hate those attacks and counter-attacks were generating was going to grow nothing but uglier, Merlin thought sadly. Indeed, it was the kind of violence and brutality that were likely to bequeath a multi-generational legacy of hatred among the survivors and their children.
Malitar Province had gone against the pattern for most of the rest of the Republic-the insurgents inside Marik, Malitar’s provincial capital and Siddarmark’s second largest seaport, had seized control of the entire city, and it had been the militias from the surrounding countryside which had fought their way back into Marik and crushed the rebels. Unfortunately, the city’s entire Charisian Quarter had been burned to the ground before the militias could retake Marik. There’d been very few survivors, and the Reformist churches had suffered almost equally severely.
Markan and Transhar had held successfully for the Lord Protector and the government, and things were actually fairly quiet there. The same was true in Rollings Province, in the extreme northeast, although the coastal area of Midhold Province, between Rollings and Old Province, had been the scene of some ugly fighting. The extreme western portion of Midhold was dominated by the successful rebels in Mountaincross, at the moment, as well, which had to be causing a certain amount of anxiety in Siddar City.