And there were the row upon row of graves, including, he thought with a pang which had become familiar without becoming one bit less agonizing, the imperial crown prince who’d stayed to fight beside the fort’s defenders, knowing he would die, to warn them of what was coming.
It was Arlos chan Geraith’s duty to see that none of those men had died in vain. Janaki chan Calirath had entrusted him with that responsibility, and he intended to meet it.
“According to Lisar here,” he said, looking up from the map and nodding in the direction of Company-Captain Lisar chan Korthal, his staff Voice, “your heavy artillery should to be arriving by mid-week, Braykhan.”
“Yes, Sir,” Regiment-Captain Braykhan chan Sayro replied with a small grimace. “I wish we were in a better position to make use of it.”
“Patience, Braykhan. Patience!” Chan Geraith smiled grimly at his staff artillerist. “Your ‘cannon-cockers’ will have their chance. I promise.”
Chan Sayro nodded, and chan Geraith turned his attention to Regiment-Captain Therahk chan Kymo, his staff quartermaster. Chan Kymo was considerably taller and fifteen years younger than his division-captain, with a pronounced Delkrathian accent and the dark hair and eyes common to the majority of the Narhathan Peninsula’s people. He was also good at his job, which was handy, given that the 3rd Dragoons were at the far end of a thirty thousand-mile supply chain.
“Lisar also tells me Brigade-Captain chan Khartan will be arriving along with Braykhan’s guns,” the division-captain said.
“Yes, Sir. I already had that information,” chan Kymo acknowledged. “Exactly where I’m going to park them all’s going to be something of a puzzle, though, I’m afraid.”
Chan Geraith snorted. Shodan chan Khartan commanded the 3rd Dragoons’ 2nd Brigade, which would add better than three thousand men to his current troop strength when it arrived. An infantry brigade was almost twice that size, but an infantry division had only two brigades, whereas a dragoon division had three, for a nominal total of just over ten thousand men, not counting the inevitable attachments. True, no unit was ever fully up to the numbers in its official table of organization. That was certainly true in the Third Dragoons’ case, at least! But moving even a slightly understrength division was a mammoth task, and a staggering total of locomotives and rolling stock would be required to move chan Geraith’s entire command down the Trans-Temporal Express’ rail line from Sharona.
“I realize space is more than a little tight,” he told chan Kymo with massive understatement. “That would be true under any circumstances, and having Engineer Banchu’s work trains parked all over the sidings doesn’t help.”
“We were lucky to have the sidings to park them on, Sir,” chan Kymo pointed out, and chan Geraith nodded.
The Traisum Cut’s narrow slot had been blasted through the heart of a three thousand-foot sheer cliff to connect the universes of Traisum and Karys, which had cost well over four billion Ternathian falcons and taken more thousands of man-hours-and tons of explosives-than the division-captain cared to think about. In the process, Fort Salby and Salbyton, the town spreading out beyond the fort, had been heavily built up as thousands of construction workers and hundreds of thousands of tons of supplies and machinery had been shipped in for the task. TTE had since removed the temporary housing which had been thrown up for those workers, but the miles upon miles of rail sidings remained.
Under other circumstances, those sidings would have provided ample space in which to park the train which had delivered chan Geraith’s First Brigade to Fort Salby. Under the circumstances which actually obtained, however, space was once again at a premium. Gahlreen Taymish, TTE’s First Director, had sent his senior engineer, Olvyr Banchu, forward to push the railhead across Karys as rapidly as possible as soon as word of the Chalgyn Consortium’s survey team’s disastrous first contact with the Arcanans reached Sharona. Banchu had been with his work crews when the Arcanan invasion bypassed them on its way to Fort Salby, but the Arcanan commander had been more than willing to exchange Banchu and his civilian workers-over two thousand of them-and the bulk of their heavy equipment for the prisoners Regiment-Captain chan Skrithik’s men had taken during their successful defense of the fort. Chan Geraith very much doubted Two Thousand Harshu had any clear idea of just how valuable all that equipment and all those trained workers were going to prove, and he was delighted to get them back. Yet happy as he was, the massive work trains Banchu had brought back from Karys had already packed much of the sidings’ available room solid.
And they’d go right on using up that parking space…unless someone found them something else to do.
“I think we’ll be able to do a little something about the congestion,” the division-captain said now. “First, of course, we don’t have much choice but to send our own train back. We’re lucky TTE had already allocated so much heavy lift capability to Traisum, but Director Tyamish didn’t know we were going to need to supply a major military deployment this far from home. He’s building up for it as quickly as he can, but it’s not as if he can just turn off the tap on TTE’s other needs, especially if he’s going to build up the nodal infrastructure the Army needs out here. It’s going to be two months-at least-before we can get enough rolling stock this side of the Salym water gap to meet our requirement anything near what I’d call adequately. Until we do, we’re going to have to make the best use we can of what we have, which means getting the men unloaded and under canvas as quickly as we can.”
“That will help, Sir,” chan Kymo agreed, “but we’re still going to be putting fifty pounds of manure into a twenty-pound bag, if you’ll pardon my saying so.”
“Nonsense!” chan Geraith said bracingly. “It can’t possibly be much worse than trying to put fifty pounds of manure into a forty-pound bag! And unless I miss my guess, we should be able to clear out a little more space, as well.”
His staff looked at him, and Regiment-Captain Merkan chan Isail, his chief of staff, raised one eyebrow silently. It wasn’t much of a change in expression, but chan Isail had been with chan Geraith a long time-certainly long enough for the division-captain to recognize a silently shouted question when he saw one.
“I’m seriously considering pushing an advance down the Kelsayr Chain,” he said. Chan Isail’s other eyebrow rose, and chan Geraith snorted again.
“I’m fully aware of the potential problems, Merkan.” The division-captain’s tone was almost as dry as the hot, motionless air outside his headquarters car. “All of them combined, however, can’t hold a candle to the problem of getting through the Cut against active resistance, and this entire portal’s so damned small-and the approach terrain’s so godsdamned bad-that the only option we’d have would be to bash straight down the Cut. Even with Braykhan’s heavy guns in support, that’d be a frigging nightmare.”
“That’s true, Sir,” chan Isail agreed after a moment. “But given these people’s ability to move troops and supplies by air, they’ll have an enormous mobility advantage whichever way we finally go at them. That’s going to be especially true in unimproved terrain without any road net or rail lines, and they’ve obviously been coming up the Kelsayr Chain as well as this one.”
Chan Geraith nodded, his eyes dark. Traisum was one of the half-dozen or so “triples” the Portal Authority had explored-universes which possessed three portals rather than the customary two. The Chernoth portal, linking Traisum and Kelsayr, and the Salbyton Portal, linking Traisum and Karys, had been discovered within a year of each other. Unfortunately, Chernoth lay in the heart of New Ternath on the far side of the Vandor Ocean, which had made getting to it just a tad difficult. By the same token, however, the Salbyton portal (only there hadn’t been a Salbyton then, of course) had been one of the most inaccessible ones ever discovered, lying as it did in the heart of the Narshathan Mountains. Given their sheer distance from home and all the manifold difficulties inherent in their development, the PA and TTE had given both of them relatively low priority, at least initially.