“I want a drink of water,” said Cale. The water was duly brought and he drank it in one go.
“Well?”
“The Materazzi have walled towns and cities. I knew that without much lighter siege engines that could easily be moved from city to city we might just as well blow trumpets and expect the walls to come tumbling down. I told Bosco that the Pontifical Engineers would need to build something much lighter than we had and make them easy to put up and take down.”
“And you designed this yourself?”
“Me? No. I don’t know anything about that stuff. I just knew what was needed.”
“But he didn’t tell you he agreed, that he was actually going to put your plan into action.”
“No. When I heard about the attacks at first, I thought I was going… you know…” He made several circling motions around his head. “A bit loony.”
“But you’re not.”
“Me? Sound as a bell. Anyway, they learned what they needed to learn at York and that’s why they left and took the three Materazzi with them-they wanted the armor, not the men. It’ll be halfway to the Sanctuary by now, with the engineers waiting to give it a good going over.”
“You took a beating at Fort Invincible.”
“Not me, the Redeemers.”
“You refer to them as we sometimes.”
“Force of habit, Boss.”
“All right, then, your plan took a hammering at Fort Invincible.”
“Not really-just bad luck. The Materazzi didn’t intend to attack them from the rear, they just happened to be returning at the wrong time-for the Redeemers, anyway. If you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans-isn’t that what the Memphis moneylenders say?”
“You’re supposed to have a parole to get into the Ghetto.”
“Nobody told me.”
“You’re so sharp you’ll cut yourself.”
“I’m still alive, if that’s what you mean.”
“I still say it all went wrong at Fort Invincible.”
“No, it didn’t.”
“How so?”
“How many Redeemers dead?”
“Two and a half thousand-thereabouts.”
“They fought your cavalry twice and the rest of them got away. They were there to see what you were made of, not to win a battle.”
“And Port Collard.”
“You call it Little Memphis. Why is that?”
“It was built in a natural harbor very like the bay here. The city was built along the same lines. The layout worked once-provincials like to copy things…” He stopped in midsentence. “I see. Yes.” He sighed heavily and sneezed. “Excuse me. So what happens next?”
Cale shrugged.
“I know what was in the plan next-it doesn’t mean that’s what they’re going to do.”
“Why shouldn’t they? It’s been reasonably successful so far.”
“Better than that-just successful. They’ve got everything I planned for.”
There was an unpleasant silence. Surprisingly it was Cale who broke it. “I’m sorry; the sin of pride is very great in me, according to Bosco.”
“Is he wrong?”
“Probably not.”
“Do you know this Princeps?”
“I met him once. He was the military governor along the northern seaboard then. There’s no trench warfare there, it’s all mountains and stuff. That’s why he’s running this campaign, because he’s the best they’ve got at fighting with an army on the move-and he’s thick with Bosco, though from what I can gather he’s not too popular elsewhere.”
“Do you know why?”
“No. But I’ve read all his campaign reports. He fights as if he thinks for himself. That kind of thing makes the Office of Intolerance nervous. Bosco protects him, that’s what I hear.”
“So why does Princeps need you to tell him what to do?”
“You’ll have to ask Bosco.” Cale gestured at the map. “Where are they now?”
Vipond pointed to a spot about a hundred miles from the Scablands at their northernmost tip.
“The view is that they’re going to cross the Scablands to the Sanctuary.”
“It looks like it. But it’s too risky taking an army, even a small one like this, across the Scablands in summer.”
“That’s not part of your great plan, then?”
“It’s exactly part of my great plan that they should look as if they’re heading for the Scablands through the Forest of Hessel and so you’ll try to get there first and wait for them to come on to you. But once they’re in the forest, they’ll turn west and cross the river here at Stamford Bridge and head for Port Erroll on the west coast here. The fleet that burned Little Memphis will take them from the harbor. Failing that, from what I read in the library, the beaches are shallow to this side. They can bring in the rowing boats if need be.” He pointed to a pass on the map. “Even if the weather’s bad and the fleet is delayed, once they’re through the Baring Gap a few hundred Redeemers could hold off even a large army for days.”
Vipond looked at him for so long without saying anything that it began to make Cale uneasy and then annoyed. He was about to speak when Vipond asked him a question.
“Do you expect me to believe you, that someone of your age, whatever that is, would be asked to prepare a plan of attack of this kind and then that plan would be carried out in exact detail? I’d have credited you with something more plausible.”
At first Cale simply went blank, a kind of dead expression that made Vipond begin to regret the tone of his frankness and remember the cold delight with which Cale had dispatched Solomon Solomon. This boy is barely sane, he thought. But then Cale laughed, a short and sudden bark of amusement. “Have you seen the moneymen playing chess in the Ghetto?”
“Yes.”
“There are lots of old men playing but also kids, I mean much younger than me. One of these kids always wins-not even the old rabbite with all the ringlets and the beard and stuff and the funny hat can beat him. So the rabbite says-”
“It’s rabbi, I understand.”
“Oh. I wondered about that. Anyway, so this rabbi, he says that chess is a gift from God to help us see his divine plan and this kid who can barely read is a sign to us to believe in the order that lies under everything. Me, I’ve got two gifts: I can kill people as easy as you could break a plate-and the other thing I can do is look at a map or stand in a place and I can see how to attack or defend it. It just comes at me like the game comes to the boy in the Ghetto. Though I don’t suppose it’s a gift from God. If you don’t believe me, tough. Your loss.”
“And how would you stop them?” He paused. “If you were going to.”
“For one thing, don’t let them reach the Baring Gap or they’ll be away. But I need a more detailed map from here to here,” he said, pointing at a section of some twenty square miles, “and two or three hours to think about it.”
Should he believe this strange creature in front of him or leave well enough alone? It had been a much-loved joke of Vipond’s father that when it came to a crisis, half the time it was better to wait: “Don’t just do something,” he would say, “stand there.”
“Wait in the room next door and I’ll bring the maps to you myself. Stay away from the windows.”
Cale stood up and walked over to the private office, but as he was about to close the door behind him, Vipond stopped him “The massacre, was that part of your plan too?”
Cale looked at him oddly, but whatever kind of expression it was, it was not one of offense.