Devil's Due (Destroyermen #12)(109)
“It is good that they do, but why does the enemy still avoid bombing Old Sofesshk?” the Chooser wondered aloud, breaking the silence.
“I have no idea,” Esshk grated back. Then he considered. “Perhaps the previous Celestial Mother was right, in a way: they dare not harm it. Even they must know by now that it is the most ancient, holiest cradle of civilization. It’s possible, I suppose, that she was only mistaken in her certainty that its protection extended to the Celestial City—and her—on the island the enemy calls Mada-gaas-gar.”
“Perhaps,” the Chooser reflected. “The tree prey—‘Lemurians’—originated on Mada-gaas-gar. The Celestial Palace was an invasion of their most sacred home, and could not be holy in their eyes.”
Esshk snorted frustration, confused thoughts mingling with the vapor that sprayed from his snout. “As much as we learn about this enemy, we still know far too little. I must ask Kurokawa about that in the next dispatch.”
The Chooser looked at him. “Indeed. And we must find our answers soon. To that and other things. Though they’ve suffered no personal harm, our esteemed Hij delegates from the various old houses of Old Sofesshk see the holocaust across the river and imagine it on their heads. Their respect for, and fear of, you remains strong, but they will not support us forever in the face of this.” He waved across the water.
“They urge me constantly to do something about it,” Esshk agreed sourly. “I argue with them—and myself,” he confessed, “that, in the broader scope of things, it’s just as well the enemy concentrates his attention here. The material loss in ships and facilities to make them—as well as all the other things the Final Swarm requires—has not been negligible, but is not crippling either. More ships and industry lie beyond the enemy’s apparent sight.” He took a deep, long breath and his crest lay flat. “But as you so often warn, I’ve waited too long for more and more troops to arrive from the far corners of the empire. We had enough to reconquer the Celestial City long ago. Only my ambition to sweep the enemy away entirely, in a single stroke, stayed my hand. Now, if the rumors of a battle beyond the Teetgak Forest, on the Plain of Gaughala, and General Ign’s reports are to be believed, weakening the frontier with the Other Hunters to the south was yet another error.” His crest rose again. “That, at least, I can remedy at once.” He gazed at the Chooser, eyes flickering with reflected fire. “My army is suffering, and one way or another, the time has come to move it.” He considered. “The threat in the south cannot be grave. We know little of the creatures dwelling there, only that they are hunters of similar races to our other enemies. But just as we cannot abide their frigid climate, they cannot possibly thrive in ours. The farther they come, the weaker they must be. They strike now only because they sense weakness. That is my fault,” he confessed again. “Had I not stripped our warriors from the frontier to cross the strait or gather here, they would have never dared attack. So. We will turn all the troops we took from that land back, to face them at Soala, on the Ungee River.” He hacked a laugh. “If any survive to reach that place, we will destroy them.”
“And the rest of the Swarm?”
Esshk was quiet a moment. “That has become more problematic,” he said. “No matter what we do, the enemy will see our movements and know when we are coming. All we can do is shorten the warning they have. Fortunately, Lord Regent Kurokawa”—he spoke the title with heavy sarcasm—“is preparing to amuse the majority of the enemy fleet in some final way. I do not know what he intends, but if we can coordinate our attack with his, all we should have to face is the smaller fleet that lies off the coast.”
“Our great warships should make short work of it,” the Chooser agreed, his enthusiasm growing.
“Indeed. But that is the dilemma as well. Our transports—and the Swarm they will carry—cannot fly across the strait. Not only are they dreadfully slow; they are fragile as eggs. We built them in their hundreds, using designs of the earliest human prey we overcame because of their simplicity, but also in the certainty we would strike with surprise. Now we cannot even gather them here, let alone load them, without giving the enemy air attacks days to destroy them, lined up, immobile. We must find another way.”
“Send our fleet to destroy the enemy! Then they could not harm our transports.”
“Sadly, Lord Chooser, I do not think that will work. If we amassed all our warships, making a larger fleet than they can imagine, the enemy will see that too. They will attack it, even sink some of it, and when it sails, what will the enemy do?”
“They will die!”
Esshk shook his head. “No. They will continue to attack from the air, sinking more and more, while avoiding direct ship-to-ship combat. Our fleet, powerful as it is, cannot match their speed. Nor can it reconquer the Celestial City, or any land, by itself. We would lose many ships to no purpose—without the lure of the transports to make the enemy oppose us directly!”
“But you just said—”
“That we cannot assemble the transports or the Swarm where they can see it, and we will not.” Esshk clacked his toe claws on the burnished stone walkway decisively. “Beginning this very night, we will start to disperse the Final Swarm away from New Sofesshk. It will be arranged by full crews and companies appropriate to the capacity of the transports, and each detachment will march toward where a specific vessel lies hidden. It will be difficult to coordinate,” he conceded, “and there will be much confusion, but I see no other choice.”