After they had gone, Arne and Inskor held a conference of their own. Arne had been meditating the course of the war ever since he returned from Midlow. Inskor was aware of this. He said bluntly, “You don’t think either plan will work.”
“I don’t think the Peer of Lant and her generals are as stupid as they would like us to believe.”
“How will they stop an invasion of Lant?” Inskor asked.
“They won’t. But the peer has left an army at home to defend against that. It will be arranged along the frontier waiting for you. You can count on it. She isn’t such a military dunce that she would march off to war and leave her peerdom defenseless.”
“Do you think the invasion will fail?”
“No. It will succeed because you won’t be an army. You can can break up into small groups and scatter all through Lant fighting like scouts. You can attack towns that aren’t defended and be gone before the army learns of it. Her generals have never had to contend with that kind of war. You will succeed, you will do enormous damage—but not as much as you hope, and certainly not as much as you must to deal Lant a genuine defeat. Eventually that waiting army will begin to understand your way of fighting and track you down. From that moment, you won’t be invaders. You will be fugitives.”
“What about the trek south?” Inskor asked.
“All the Lantiff have to do is set an occasional trap, or attack some part of the column now and then with a patrol. That will disrupt the march, make the scouts form up and fight, scatter the marchers, upset the schedule so they can’t reach the food supplies they must have. I greatly fear it will be a horrible trek. If it doesn’t reach the south before winter, the disaster will be indescribable—but no more than it was in Midlow and the other peerdoms the Lantiff overran.”
“Then you think the war is lost.”
“I’m convinced it can’t be won. We have killed more Lantiff than anyone could count. We have held back the armies of Lant and upset the peer’s schedule for conquest. The only result has been death and suffering for the entire population of the Ten Peerdoms, and Lant is winning anyway. I suspect the Peer of Lant already has launched her southern invasion—at least, she has turned much of her strength south. She knows this war is over, and it will dribble on only as long as our food lasts. Those making the trek south will find an army waiting for them, just as you will find an army waiting for you inside Lant.”
He clapped the old man on the shoulder. “This isn’t a war, my friend. It is a siege. The Lantiff are simply keeping us occupied until we run out of food and have to surrender.”
“Are you going south with the peer?”
“My part in the war is finished. I did everything I could possibly do to help win it, and I failed. In the next phase, once the planning is finished, I won’t be needed. Your scouts will handle the march south and the invasion of Lant. I am going west. I must find out what has happened to Egarn and help him if I can. If he has failed, or the Lantiff have taken him, then I will circle back and meet the group traveling south.”
Inskor nodded regretfully. “I think you are right. Not about not being needed—you always make yourself invaluable. But I have no doubt that Egarn needs you worse than we do—if he is still alive.”
“His supplies will be running low,” Arne said. “There are flour, grain, and tubers in hidden storage bins that can keep his little group eating well for sikes, but not even old Marof knows about them.”
“Go and see Egarn, then. Return when you can. Things aren’t quite as hopeless as you think. If we can persuade the southern peerdoms to attack Lant instead of waiting for Lant to attack them, we may accomplish something yet. Our raid over the mountains might panic the Peer of Lant into rushing home with her army, which would give the southern peerdoms the opportunity to attack it on the march. They just might destroy it.”
“The Peer of Lant doesn’t panic,” Arne said dryly. “Also, there is something about this war that puzzles me mightily. We know the peer has Egarn’s weapon again. By my own count, the Lantiff have captured eleven of them. One example is all their len grinders need to make copies. So why don’t they use it on us?”
Inskor shrugged. “The peer’s generals always have been notoriously slow to change their tactics—the Peer of Lant doesn’t encourage resourcefulness in her commanders. She doesn’t worry about the lives of her Lantiff because she has so many. She may not want to make changes while she is winning.”
Arne shook his head. “I think the peer’s generals are shrewd tacticians. They don’t use it because they know it wouldn’t be effective. Our one-namers fight from cover, and they use the weapon far more accurately than the Lantiff could. They aren’t going to flee in panic the first time it is used on them. So Lant’s generals aren’t using it. They will change their tactics the moment it will give them an advantage. When you invade Lant, the Lantiff may cut their way through the mountains and follow you. If the southern peerdoms attack the Peer of Lant with a massed army, both sides will use it. They will inflict horrible damage on each other and on whatever land the battle is fought in. Don’t you see what this means?”
Inskor looked puzzled.
“The Honsun Len is about to destroy Earth a second time,” Arne said sadly. “Egarn told us that would happen if it were put to military use. He has been right all along. His plan is the only way to save humanity, and I want to do what I can to help him.”
“I see what you mean. I don’t agree that our cause is hopeless, but by pursuing the war and keeping the Lantiff occupied as long as we can, we may be giving Egarn important help. What are you going to tell the Peer of Easlon?”
“There are many refugees still hiding out in the conquered peerdoms. Every village had food reserves stored in underground bins. The League of One-Namers had secret stores of food in each of the peerdoms. I will take one-namers who know local conditions, and we will search for refugees and pick up as much food as can be carried. I also will take a few of your scouts along, and they can guide the refugees and supplies back to meet those going south. I will remain with Egarn—if he is still at work.”
“It will be risky.”
“What isn’t risky these days?”
Inskor nodded. “Very well. The refugees are needed. The food will be critically needed. I will suggest it, and I am sure the peer will approve. There is no need to tell her or anyone about Egarn. What about Deline?”
“Surely she would rather go east,” Arne said. “Fighting defensively bores her. She should have a glorious time leading her guard through Lant.”
“When do you want to leave?”
“Not until everything is ready. Until then, I have a job to do here.”
The war ground on. The Lantiff charged, maneuvered, and died while their army continued to edge forward. Again and again they attempted to fold themselves around the flanks of the elusive defenders, who killed Lantiff and more Lantiff and slowly withdrew. Arne tabulated every bit of food that anyone could find in Easlon, apportioned it, and sent south all that could be spared. The plan—still known only to Arne and Inskor—was to withdraw suddenly in darkness and leave the Lantiff with the puzzling impression that their foe had disappeared. It would take time for them to to collect themselves and begin to move forward. If they had forgotten their lessons in caution, widely scattered scouts firing Egarn’s weapon would remind them. These bold individuals could harrass the Lantiff for a dae or two and then withdraw—to repeat the process over and over until the southward trek had traveled too far to be overtaken.
Finally everything was ready. Arne selected the one-namers who were to travel with him. A squad of scouts led by Bernal would accompany them and guide back the refugees and supplies. Far to the rear, those taking the southern trek had already left, and the entire group was safely in the mountains. Inskor had announced another withdrawal to the army. This surprised no one; their entire war had been a war of withdrawals.