Despite that, there’d been enough redundancy-barely-in chan Geraith’s original planning to compensate for their losses. So far, at least.
“I’ve been following all your Voice reports,” chan Geraith continued, “but it’s not the same as a face-to-face briefing.”
Chan Quay nodded again, his expression neutral. Unlike chan Geraith, the brigade-captain was a Voice, although his range was only a few hundred yards. Had chan Geraith been equally Talented, the two of them could have conferred directly through their staff Voices, despite the distance between them, a point he had no intention of making. The division-captain needed no Talent to read his non-expression, however, and snorted dryly.
“Wasn’t the first time I’ve regretted being deaf as a post when it comes to Hearing reports, Renyl. Won’t be the last, either…I hope. So why don’t you just step over to my office and my maps.”
“Yes, Sir,” chan Quay said respectfully and followed chan Geraith back to the division-captain’s HQ Steel Mule.
Unlike the icy winter in Nairsom, the weather here, about midway between what should have been the towns of Carotal and Simaryn, was clear, dry, and much, much warmer. The early afternoon temperature hovered in the mid-fifties, though chan Geraith’s staff Weather Hound predicted it would drop well below freezing overnight. At the moment, however, it seemed almost balmy to the division-captain, and the windows in the shell covering the Mule’s cargo bed were open to let in the brisk southeasterly breeze.
That breeze ruffled the corners of the map paperweighted down on chan Geraith’s desk as he and chan Quay bent over it.
“We’re here,” the division-captain said, tapping a point roughly two hundred miles west of Chindar and a thousand miles east of the New Uromath portal. The long line of the Sand Rock River, snaking from northwest to southeast, lay a hundred and thirty miles to the south, and the terrain offered firm, relatively easy going for their vehicles as they rolled along, throwing up a vast plume of dust-which he hoped to every Arpathian hell there were no Arcanan eyes to see-from the dry soil.
“Yes, Sir,” chan Quay acknowledged. “As of twelve hours ago, Regiment-Captain chan Malthyn had the rest of Second Battalion here at High Rock City, a couple of hundred miles behind chan Mahsdyr’s Gold Company,” he touched a spot just over two hundred miles northwest of their current location. “Chan Grosvar’s been holding First Battalion here, about ten miles west of us, at Broken Shoe Butte, for the last couple of days.” He tapped another spot. “He’ll be moving up to join Second Battalion tomorrow morning. He’s been waiting for that load of engineering supplies Battalion-Captain chan Hurmahl needs. Assuming nothing untoward happens, he should reach chan Mahsdyr day after tomorrow.”
Chan Geraith nodded slowly, leaning forward to take his weight on his arms, his palms spread on the map while he considered the positions of the rest of his division. The 9th Dragoon Regiment had closed up with Teresco chan Urlman’s 16th Dragoons five days ago, and the 23rd would overtake the main body within another seventy-two hours. At that point, two of his three brigades would be concentrated in a single fighting force, ready to hand.
That was good, but the erosion of his Bison strength meant that Brigade-Captain chan Sharys’ 3rd Brigade had actually lost ground. As of the latest Voice report, his lead regiment remained almost two hundred miles short of the Nairsom-Thermyn portal, waiting out a bitter late-spring blizzard. The Weather Hounds predicted that would take at least three days, and even after the weather cleared, he’d make slower going than the rest of 2nd Brigade, thanks to the newly fallen snow and-even more-to his relative shortage of transport.
Well, two brigades ought to be enough to be going on with, he told himself. And look on the bright side. If we hit a snag getting across Coyote Canyon there’ll be plenty of time for him to catch up with us. Hells, there’ll be time for chan Bykahlar’s infantry to catch up with us!
“Chan Malthyn’s left Battalion-Captain chan Hyul at High Rock City to mind the store while he moved up to Battalion-Captain chan Yahndar’s command group,” chan Quay continued, “and chan Yahndar still has chan Mahsdyr’s Gold Company out in front. According to chan Malthyn’s last Voice message, Gold Company’s actually on the rim of Coyote Canyon now.”
“Ah?” Chan Geraith looked up. “When did that come in?”
“About fifteen minutes ago, Sir.” Chan Quay grinned. “I thought I’d just save that news to give it to you personally.”
“It’s a little late for a Midwinter gift, but I’ll take it,” chan Geraith replied with an answering grin. 3rd Brigade might have been delayed, but chan Malthyn was thirty-six hours ahead of schedule. “Any sign the Arcanans’ve been poking around the bridging site?”
“None, Sir.” Chan Quay shook his head.
“Good,” chan Geraith said. “Good.”
Of course, dragons flying overhead wouldn’t leave any convenient tracks for chan Mahsdyr’s men to spot, but if the Arcanans had noticed the preparation work TTE’s advanced construction parties had done they would almost certainly have landed to inspect it in person. Or that was what Sharonians would have done, anyway. Gods only knew what sort of “magic” Arcanans might use to carry out detailed reconnaissance!
Stop that! he told himself firmly. You’ve already had plenty of evidence that there are limits to what they can do. Don’t start giving them godlike powers at this stage!
“Is the site in good shape?” he asked out loud.
“Chan Hurmahl says it is, Sir.” Chan Quay straightened and propped his hands on his hips as he and his superior gazed down at the crooked blue line of the Stone Carve River.
Coyote Canyon was scarcely the equal of the enormous chasm of Vothan’s Canyon, a hundred miles farther south, but it was still a dauntingly impressive terrain obstacle. Fortunately, the Trans-Temporal Express had realized it would have to bridge Coyote if it meant to run a line across Thermyn to New Uromath. It had already done that in one other universe, and its engineers had chosen to use the same location in Thermyn. It wasn’t at the closest spot to Fort Ghartoun and the New Uromath portal, but TTE was intimately familiar with its terrain. The best news from chan Geraith’s perspective were the steep, rough ramps crews staged through Fort Ghartoun had already blasted down from the lip of the canyon. They’d been intended to get construction equipment down to river level when the time came to build the bridge pylons, and anywhere construction crews could go, his Bisons and Steel Mules could go…when they weren’t broken down, at any rate.
“Has Battalion-Captain chan Hurmahl been able to evaluate the water level?” he asked after a moment.
“He says the river’s a little higher than we’d hoped but not enough to make problems. He’s confident he can throw the bridge across within forty-eight to seventy-two hours once chan Grosvar catches up with Second Battalion and hands over the bridging material.”
Chan Geraith nodded again, stroking his mustache with a thoughtful index finger. The construction crews who’d blasted the gaps into Coyote Canyon’s walls had also surveyed the riverbed itself. The Trans-Temporal Express and Portal Authority had learned the hard way that terrain was never identical from universe to universe. It was usually very similar, enough so that routes could be picked from maps with a fair degree of certainty, but the gods clearly delighted in variations on a theme. Even without the often bizarre effects generated in proximity to portals, each universe enjoyed its own subtly different but always unique geological history. In this instance, the painstaking survey of the Stone Carve had allowed the fabrication of steel supports and a plate steel roadway that would allow chan Hurmahl’s men to throw a bridge capable of supporting Bisons and Steel Mules across the rocky riverbed. Chan Geraith didn’t like to contemplate the amount of labor involved, but in addition to his own battalion of highly trained engineers, chan Hurmahl could draft additional bone and brawn from chan Quay’s entire brigade. In theory, that gave him three thousand more strong backs, and when the rest of the division came up, he’d have the next best thing to ten thousand additional sets of hands available.