Chapter 25

“This feels like information that should have been revealed long ago,” Kaze said, frowning.

She was busy inspecting my commission while the troops, plus volunteers from the city who didn’t feel like running, dug holes across the countryside. Most were empty, but not all. Every tenth hole contained a barrel of gunpowder, the contents of which I transmuted to blasting powder.

Every officer on the continent had a commission token. No matter the army, the token was the same eight centimeter square of gold embossed with enchantments that linked it to a matched token in the controlling legal authority’s house of records. Treaties between the powers that resulted after the Schism mandated that they follow the old Imperial format. In theory, this allowed all officers to be treated with the respect and dignity afforded their rank, no matter where they were or their disposition. Even Lady Flir used the Imperial format. It was the only way to ensure her officers weren’t killed out of hand if captured.

In practice, the tokens were largely just convenient. Automated systems turned administrative work into an afterthought. After a century on the books, seniority, timing, and luck saw me climb through the ranks by virtue of outliving all my peers.

“Truthfully, I didn’t expect it to be relevant. They commissioned me as a reserve lieutenant over a century ago. Imagine my surprise when I checked it and found I was promoted.”

“Seniority comes for us all, in the end,” Lieutenant Colonel Degle said. “I didn’t realize they gave those out to immortal races.”

“They do, they just prorate seniority,” I said. “With that said, I’m just a human with really weird luck. There’s no reg for that.”

I had, of course, used my authority to upgrade her token to reflect her brevet rank. The change would be reviewed in thirty days. Assuming she survived, I was reasonably sure meritorious service would make it permanent. If the board chose to downgrade it, the downgrade would likely only be temporary, until she could complete the mandatory education.

“I could use some of that luck. The mines are buried, by the by.”

“Thank you.”

“Mind if I ask what the empty holes are for?”

“We don’t have enough powder for a proper minefield. The hope is, the enemy sappers get just deep enough in before they realize an ignimancer was at work to say ‘bugger this for a game of soldiers’ and stick to the roads. The laws of war say we can’t mine those.”

“Which will lead them to the gate,” Degle said.

“Which will lead them to the gate,” I confirmed. “Where they’ll have another nasty surprise waiting.”

“That’ll be the cannons, then,” Degle said.

“Cannon,” Kaze corrected. “The plural of cannon is cannon.”

Degle gave her an annoyed look.

“I thought I’d spare you the lecture on the history of field artillery. This one won’t shut up if you let him get started.”

“Ah. Many thanks…”

“Kaze will do.”

“Many thanks, Kaze. I could do without the lecture.”

“Speaking of cannon, how are those coming along?” I asked.

“All but two are sealed and spiked, as ordered.”

“Aren’t you going to ask why?”

Degle shook her head.

“Mine is not to question why,” she recited.

“Even though it’s eating you,” Kaze said.

“Even though.”

“You followed instructions. That’s the important part,” I said. “A few answers are warranted, I think. When you get right down to it, a cannon is just a bomb you can aim at the enemy. If all goes well, the shot flies at the enemy and you still have a cannon. If the shot is obstructed, pressure escapes through other means, usually in a cloud of metal shards. Nasty business, that.”

“I see. The two firing cannons, er, cannon, are bait. Draw the enemy in, the crews abandon their posts, and the enemy assumes they’ve won the position with minimal casualties. They likely won’t bother with the guns until they’ve secured it.”

“At which point they get mowed down,” I said.

“It’ll be hard to avoid killing anyone,” Kaze noted.

“Aye. Mercy is a luxury for the strong,” I said. “We’re fighting from a position of weakness. I prefer to avoid killing if I can help it. That doesn’t mean I won’t. They’re soldiers. They’ll understand.”

“Too bleeding right,” Degle said. “Winning is what matters. Survival is optional.”

“If this works, we’ll blunt their attack and force them to commit their strategic reserve. That’s when we can savage them in truth.”

“Between the guns on the wall and the mortars behind it, they’ll have their work cut out for them,” Degle said.

“You’ll have Kaze and I as well.”

“Where will you be?”

“I’ll be in the tower.”

“I’ll be by the gate,” Kaze said. “If they make it through, they’ll wish they hadn’t.”

“Knife witch,” I said, as if that explained anything.

Judging by the look of horrified comprehension dawning on Degle’s face, it explained everything.

“Gods above,” she murmured, touching her forehead in Aethna’s sign. “What do you even need us for?”

“I can’t be everywhere, and there are limits to my power. What I can do is buy you time,” Kaze said.

“That, and draw out whoever’s leading this shit show. Flir can’t afford to send her troops into the meat grinder by the bushel. She hasn’t the time or the numbers. She needs to take the city and wipe out the defenders quickly. That means sending in heavy hitters to crush any pockets of resistance.”

“I understand,” Degle said. “I take it you have a plan for dealing with whomever she sends?”

“Several. What I don’t have is a means to stop her if she commits her entire host to the expedition. If she does, our only option is to go down fighting. If we slow her down enough for the King to get off his fat ass and send a proper army, that’s job done.”

“Winning is the goal. Survival is optional,” Degle repeated.

“Want that on your headstone?” I asked.

“I was thinking ‘she was a fool, but she died well’. I’m open to suggestions.”

“How about ‘she stood when no one else would’? That sounds more dignified,” Kaze suggested.

“There’s no such thing as a dignified death,” Degle said. “We all shit ourselves. I just hope I do it bad enough to make the bastards retch.”