Ships from the West

They all stared at the map and its counters. Now the red blocks laid square across the inked line of the Tourbering river had a distinctively menacing air. Similar blocks were set in a line north-east of the Sea of Tor. Opposing them all was the single blue square of Aras's command.

'If that's their plan, then it buys us some time,' Formio said, breaking the silence. 'The northerners will be almost two weeks marching across the Torian Plains.'

'Yes,' Corfe agreed. 'Enough time for us to reinforce Aras. I plan to transport many of our own troops upon the Torrin, which will save time, and wear and tear on the horses.'

'This is it then, Corfe?' Formio asked. 'The general mobilisation?'

Corfe met his friend's eye. 'This is it, Formio. All roads, it seems, lead to the gap. They may try and sneak a few columns through the southern foothills, but the Cimbriani will help take care of those. And Admiral Berza is liaising with the Nalbeni in the Kardian to protect that southern flank.'

'Bad terrain,' Comillan said. His black eyes were hooded and he tugged at the ends of his heavy moustache reflectively. "Those foothills up around Gaderion are pretty broken. The cavalry will be next to useless, unless we remount them on goats.'

1 know’ Corfe told him. 'They've pushed their outposts right up to the mountains, so we've little room to manoeuvre unless we abandon Gaderion and fall back to the plains below. And that, gentlemen, will not happen.'

'So we're on the defensive, then?' a voice asked. The senior officers turned. It was Ensign Baraz. His fellow subalterns stared at him in shock for a second and then stood wooden and insensible. One moved slightly on the balls of his feet, as though he would like to be physically disassociated from his colleague's temerity.

'Who in hell—?' Comillan began angrily, but Corfe held up a hand.

'Is that your conclusion, Ensign?'

The young man flushed. 'Our forces have been brought up thinking of the offensive, sir. It's how they are trained and equipped.'

'And yet their greatest victories have been defensive ones.' 'The strategic defensive, sir, but always the tactical offensive.'

Corfe smiled. 'Excellent. Gentlemen, our young friend has hit the nail on the head. We are fighting to defend Torunna, as we once fought to defend it from his forefathers - but we did not win that war by sitting tight behind stone walls. We must keep the enemy off-balance at all times, so that he can never muster his strength sufficiently to land a killer blow. To do that, we must attack.'

'Where, sir?' Comillan asked. 'His outposts are well sited. The Thurian Line could soak up an assault of many thousands.'

'His outposts should be assaulted if possible, and in some force. But that is not where I intend the heaviest blow to fall.' Corfe bent his head. 'Where could we do the most damage, eh? Think.'

The assembled officers were silent. Corfe met Formio's eyes. The two of them had already discussed this in private, and had violently disagreed, but the Fimbrian was not going to say a word.

'Charibon,' Ensign Baraz said at last. 'You're going to make for Charibon.'

A collective hiss of indrawn breath. 'Don't be absurd, boy,' Comillan snapped, his black eyes flashing. 'Sir—'

'The boy is right, Comillan.'

The commander of the Bodyguard was shocked speechless. 'It can't be done,' someone said.

'Why not?' Corfe asked softly. 'Don't be shy now, gentlemen. List me the reasons.'

'First of all,' Comillan said, 'the Thurian Line is too strong to be quickly overrun. We would take immense casualties in a general assault, and a battering by artillery would give the enemy enough time to bring up masses of reinforcements, or even build a second line behind the first. And the terrain. As was said earlier, our shock troops need mobility to be most effective. You cannot throw cavalry, or even pikemen, at solid walls, or over broken ground.'

'Correct. But forget about the Thurian Line for a moment. Let us talk about Charibon itself. What problems does it pose?'

'A large garrison, sir?' one of the ensigns ventured.

'Yes. But don't forget that most of the troops about the monastery-city will be drawn eastwards to assault Gaderion. Charibon is largely unwalled. What defences it has were built in the second century, before gunpowder. As fortresses go, it is very weak, and could be taken without a large siege train.'

'But to get to it you would have to force the passage of the Thurian Line anyway,' Colonel Heyd of the cuirassiers pointed out. 'And to do that, Charibon's held armies would have to be destroyed. We have not the men for it.'

'I had not finished, Heyd. Charibon's man-made defences may be weak, but her natural ones are formidable. Look here.' Corfe bent over the map on the table. 'To the east and north she is shielded by the Sea of Tor. To the south-east, the Cimbrics. Only to the west and north are there easy approaches for an attacking army, and even then the northern approach is crossed by the line of the Saeroth river. Charibon does not need walls. It is guarded by geography. On the other hand, if the city were suddenly attacked, with its forces heavily engaged to the east in the Torrin Gap, then the enemy would have an almost impossible time recalling them to her defence. The problems bedevilling an attacker would suddenly be working against the defender. The only swift way to recall them would be to transport them back across the Sea of Tor in ships. And ships can be burnt'

'All well and good, sir,' Comillan said, clearly exasperated, 'if our troops could fly. But they can't. There are no passes in the Cimbrics that I know of. How else do you suggest we transport them?'

'What if there were another way to get to Charibon, bypassing the Thurian Line?'

Dawning wonder on all their faces save Formio's.

'Is there such a way, sir?' Comillan asked harshly.

'There may be. There may be. The point is, gentlemen, that we cannot afford a war of attrition. We are outnumbered, and as Ensign Baraz pointed out, on the defensive. I do not want to go hacking at the tail of the snake -I intend to cut off its head. If we destroy the Himerian Triumvirate, this continent-wide empire of theirs will fall apart.'

He straightened up from the map and stared at them all intently. 'I intend to lead an army across the Cimbrics, to assault Charibon from the rear.'

No one spoke. Formio stared at the map, at the line of the Cimbrics drawn in heavy black ink. They were the highest peaks in the world, it was said, and even in spring the snow on them lay yards deep.

'At the same time,' Corfe went on calmly, 'Aras will assault the Thurian Line. He will press the assault with enough vigour to persuade the enemy that it is a genuine attempt to break through to the plains beyond, but what he will actually be doing is drawing off troops from the defence of the monastery-city. A third operation will be a raid on the docks at the eastern end of the Sea of Tor. The enemy transport fleet must be destroyed. That done, and we have him like a bull straddling a gate.'

'But first the Cimbrics must be crossed,' Formio said.

'Yes. And of that I shall say no more at present. But make no mistake, gentlemen, we must win this war quickly. The first battles have already begun. I have communications from the west to the effect that the fleet of the Grand Alliance is about to go into action. A Fimbrian embassy has been reported at ,

Charibon. It is likely that Himerian troops have been granted passage through Fimbria to attack Hebrion, and we know they are massing on the borders of eastern Astarac. We are not alone in this war, but we are the only kingdom with the necessary forces to win it.'

Formio continued to stare at his king and friend. He drew close. 'No retreat, Corfe,' he said in a pleading murmur. 'If you fail in front of Charibon, there is no retreat.'