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Authors: David Weber

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“That's my opinion, as well,” Hektor agreed, and inhaled deeply. “Which means that whenever Haarahld gets around to us, we're not going to have a navy to fend him off.”

“If the reports are accurate, no conventional galley fleet would be able to stop him anyway, Your Highness,” Tartarian said.

“Agreed. So we're just going to have to build ourselves a ‘new model' galleon fleet of our own.”

“How likely is Haarahld to give us the time to do something like that, My Prince?” Coris asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine, Phylyp. In fact”—Hektor's smile was alum-tart—“I rather hope your guess is
better
than mine.”

Coris didn't quail, but his expression wasn't particularly happy, either. Phylyp Ahzgood, like his counterpart in Charis, had not been born to the nobility. He'd received his title (following the unfortunately deceased previous Earl of Coris' involvement in the last serious attempt to assassinate Hektor) in recognition of his work as Hektor's spymaster, and he was probably the closest thing Hektor had to a true first councilor. But he'd slipped considerably in the prince's favor as the devastating degree to which Haarahld of Charis' naval innovations had been underestimated began becoming painfully clear. It was entirely possible that his head was still keeping company with the rest of his body only because everyone else had been taken equally by surprise.

“Actually, I think we may have at least a little time in hand, Your Highness,” Tartarian said. The admiral seemed blissfully unaware of the undercurrent between his prince and Coris, although Hektor rather doubted he truly was.

“As a matter of fact, I think I may agree with you, Admiral,” the prince said. “I'm curious as to whether or not your reasoning matches mine, though.”

“A lot depends on Haarahld's resources and how focused he can keep his strategy, Your Highness. Frankly, from the reports we've received so far, it doesn't sound as if he lost very many—if any—of those damned galleons. On the other hand, he didn't exactly have a huge number of them before the battle, either. Let's say he has thirty or forty. That's a very powerful fleet, especially with the new artillery. In fact, it could probably defeat any other fleet on the face of Safehold. But as soon as he starts splitting it up to cover multiple objectives, it gets far weaker. And despite what's just happened to all of our navies, he has to take at least some precautions to cover his home waters and protect his merchant shipping.

“As I see it, that means he
probably
only has the capability to launch one effective offensive at a time. I'd love for him to try to conduct multiple campaigns, but I don't think he's stupid enough to do that. And while we're thinking about the sorts of campaigns he can fight, let's not forget that he doesn't really have an army at all, and Corisande isn't exactly a small piece of dirt. It's over seventeen hundred miles from Wind Hook Head to Dairwyn, and more like two thousand from Cape Targan to West Wind Head. We may be a lot less densely populated than someplace like Harchong or Siddarmark, but that's still a lot of territory to cover. He can raise an army big enough to meet his needs against us and Emerald both, if he really tries, but that's going to take time and carry Shan-wei's own price tag. And it's going to cut into his ability to continue his
naval
buildup, as well.

“Even in a best-case situation—best case from his perspective, I mean—it will be five-days, or even months, before he's prepared to launch any serious overseas attacks. And even when he is, Emerald is much closer to him than we are. He's not going to want to leave Prince Nahrmahn unneutralized in his rear while he sends the majority of his fleet and every Marine he can scrape up to attack
us.
That probably means he'll deal with Emerald first, and while I don't think much of the Emeraldian Army, it does exist. If it decides to fight, it's going to take him at least another couple of months, minimum, to take just the major ports and cities. Subduing the entire island, assuming Nahrmahn's subjects decide to remain loyal to him, is going to take even longer.

“So, if he pursues a conventional strategy, I doubt very much that he's going to be able to get around to us at all this year.”

“Cogently argued,” Hektor said. “And, overall, I find myself in agreement with you. But don't forget that Haarahld of Charis has already demonstrated that he's perfectly prepared to pursue
un
conventional strategies, Admiral.”

“Oh, I won't, I assure you, Your Highness. No one associated with the Navy is likely to forget that anytime soon.”

“Good.” Hektor smiled frostily, then waved one hand.

“For the moment, though, let's assume your analysis is reasonably accurate. Even if it's not, we undoubtedly have at least a month or two before Haarahld's going to be able to come calling. Oh, we may see some cruisers prowling around the coast, snapping up any merchant shipping foolish enough to cross their paths, but it's going to take him longer to put together a serious expedition. And if it takes him long enough, we may have a few nasty surprises of our own for him when he gets here.”

“What sort of surprises, My Prince?” Coris asked.

“At least Black Water's dispatches with the sketches of the new Charisian guns got here safely,” Hektor pointed out. “It's a pity the actual prize ships managed to end up in Eraystor for some mysterious reason, but thanks to his sketches and Captain Myrgyn's accompanying report, we know about the new gun mounts and carriages and the bagged powder charges. I'd love to know more about this new gunpowder of theirs, as well, but—”

Hektor grimaced amd shrugged slightly. That was the one part of Myrgyn's report which had been less than rigorously complete.

“I think we can still take advantage of what we do know about their artillery improvements even without that, though,” he continued after a moment. “The question is how long we'll have to put them into effect.”

“I've already discussed the new guns with the Master of Artillery, Your Highness,” Tartarian said. “He's just as upset as I was that the same ideas never occurred to us. They're so damned
simple
that—”

The earl stopped himself and shook his head.

“Sorry, Your Highness.” He cleared his throat. “The point I was going to make is that he's already making the molds for his first pour of new-style guns. Obviously, he's going to have to do some experimenting, and the new guns are going to have to be bored and mounted. All the same, he's estimating that he should be able to deliver the first of them within a month and a half or so. I told him”—Tartarian looked Hektor in the eye—“that I understood it was only an estimate and that there'd be no repercussions if it turned out that, despite his best efforts, his estimate was overly optimistic.”

Hektor grimaced again, but he also nodded.

“While the Master of Artillery is working on that,” Tartarian continued, “I've already started looking at ways to modify galleons to mount the new weapons. I don't think it's going to be as simple as just cutting ports in their sides, and I'm not prepared to even guess at this point how long it's going to take to actually refit a ship with them. We'll do the best we can, but we're not going to be able to build a fleet to meet Haarahld at sea in less than at least a year or two, Your Highness. I'm sorry, but that's just the way it is.”

“Understood. I'm not any happier about the numbers than you are, Admiral, but we'll just have to do the best we can in the time we have. What I think that's going to mean, at least in the short term, is that as the new guns come from the foundry, they'll go first to our more critical shore batteries, and only then to new naval construction.”

“If I may, Your Highness, I'd prefer to modify that slightly,” Tartarian said. “I agree that the shore batteries have to have immediate priority, but every gun we can put afloat to support the batteries will be well worthwhile, as well. I'm of the opinion that we could probably build floating batteries—I'm talking about what would basically be nothing but big rafts, with bulwarks to protect their crews against small arms fire and light artillery—relatively quickly to help cover our critical harbors. And every galleon we can fit out with the new guns will be very valuable in terms of harbor defense.”

“I see.”

Hektor pursed his lips, considering the argument carefully, then shrugged.

“You may well be correct, Admiral. I rather suspect that the point is going to be moot, initially at least, though. Once you begin producing galleons to put the guns aboard, we'll have to reconsider our priorities, of course.”

“Yes, Your Highness.”

“Which brings us to you, Lyndahr,” Hektor continued, turning to his treasurer. “I'm fully aware that we don't begin to have the money to pay for an entirely new navy. On the other hand, buying a new navy will probably be cheaper than buying a new princedom. So I need you to be creative.”

“I understand, My Prince,” Raimynd replied. “And I've been giving some thought to that very point. The problem is, there's simply not enough money in the treasury to begin to pay for an armaments program on this scale. Or perhaps I should say, there's simply not enough money in
our
treasury to pay for it.”

“Ah?” Hektor cocked an eyebrow, and Raimynd shrugged.

“I believe, My Prince,” he said in a rather delicate tone, “that the Knights of the Temple Lands aren't going to be … excessively pleased by the outcome of our recent campaign.”

“That's putting it mildly, I'm sure,” Hektor said dryly.

“I assumed that would be the case, My Prince. And it occurred to me that, under the circumstances, the Knights of the Temple Lands might recognize a certain commonality of interest with the Princedom, let us say. Indeed, I believe it would be quite reasonable for us to request them to help defray the costs we've incurred in our common endeavor.”

Raimynd, Hektor reflected, should have been a diplomat rather than a coin-counter.

“I agree with you,” he said aloud. “Unfortunately, the Knights of the Temple Lands are some distance away. Even with the assistance of the semaphore system and Church dispatch boats, it takes five-days to pass simple messages back and forth, much less gold or silver. And if Haarahld gets wind of actual shipments of bullion, I know
precisely
where his cruisers will be deployed.”

“You're correct, My Prince. However, Bishop Executor Thomys is right here in Manchyr. I believe that if you were to approach him properly, explaining the exact nature of our need, you might be able to convince him to bolster our efforts.”

“In exactly what fashion?” Hektor asked.

“I believe that if the Bishop Executor were willing, he could issue letters of credit against the Knights of the Temple Lands' treasury. We might have to discount their face value slightly, but it's more likely they'd circulate at full value, given the fact that everyone knows the Temple Lands' solvency is beyond question. We could then issue our own letters of credit, secured by the Bishop Executor's, to finance our necessary armaments program.”

“And if the Bishop Executor is unwilling to commit the Knights of the Temple Lands?” Tartarian asked. Raimynd looked at him, and the admiral shrugged. “I agree with the logic of every single thing you've said, Sir Lyndahr. Unfortunately, the Bishop Executor may feel he lacks the authority to encumber the Knights of the Temple Lands' treasury. And, to be perfectly honest, if I were a foundry owner or a shipbuilder, I might find myself a little nervous about accepting a letter of credit on the Temple Lands which hadn't
already
been approved by the Knights of the Temple Lands themselves, if you take my meaning.”

“An understandable point,” Hektor said. “But not, I think, an insurmountable one. Lyndahr, I think this is a very good idea, one that needs to be pursued. And if Bishop Executor Thomys proves reluctant when we speak to him, I believe we should point out that while he can't legally commit the Knights of the Temple Lands, he
does
have the authority to commit the resources of the Archbishopric. He has the assets right here in Corisande to secure a large enough letter of credit to cover our first several months' expenses. By that time, we'll undoubtedly have heard back from the Knights of the Temple Lands themselves. I think they'll see the logic of your argument and approve the arrangement. If they don't, we'll simply have to come up with some alternative approach.”

“Yes, Your Highness.” Raimynd dipped his head in a sort of half bow.

“Very well,” Hektor said, pushing back his chair, “I think that concludes everything we can profitably discuss this afternoon. I want reports—
regular
reports—on everything we've talked about. I realize our position is rather … unenviable, shall we say, at the moment.” He showed his teeth in a tight grin. “However, if Haarahld will just take long enough munching up Emerald, I think we ought to be able to accomplish enough to at least give him a serious bellyache when he gets around to Corisande!”

.III.

Tellesberg Cathedral,
City of Tellesberg,
Kingdom of Charis

It was very quiet in Tellesberg Cathedral.

The enormous circular structure was packed, almost as crowded as it had been for King Haarahld's funeral mass, but the atmosphere was very different from the one which had prevailed on that occasion. There was the same undertone of anger, of outrage and determination, but there was something else, as well. Something which hovered like the sultry silence before a thunderstorm. A tension which had grown only more taut and sharper-clawed in the five-days since the old king's death.

Captain Merlin Athrawes of the Charisian Royal Guard understood that tension. As he stood at the entrance to the royal box, watching over King Cayleb and his younger brother and sister, he knew exactly what that vast, not-quite-silent crowd was thinking, worrying about. What he wasn't prepared to hazard a guess about was how it was going to react when the long-anticipated moment finally arrived.

BOOK: By Schism Rent Asunder
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