The Thousand Cities by Harry Turtledove

Author:Harry Turtledove [Turtledove, Harry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fantasy, Science Fiction
ISBN: 9780345380494
Google: qRAlAAAACAAJ
Amazon: 0345380495
Barnesnoble: 0345380495
Goodreads: 101547
Publisher: Del Rey
Published: 1997-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

VIII

If you were going to be in the land of the Thousand Cities, the very beginning of spring was the time to do it. The weather hadn’t yet grown unbearably hot, the flies and mosquitoes weren’t too bad, and a steady breeze from the northwest helped blow smoke away from the cities instead of letting it accumulate in foglike drifts, as could happen in the still air of summer.

Beroshesh, the city governor of Nashvar, did a magnificent job of concealing his delight at Abivard’s return. “Are you going to flood us out again?” he demanded, and then, remembering his manners, added, “Lord?”

“I’ll do whatever needs doing to drive the Videssians from the domain of Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase,” Abivard answered. Casually, he asked, “Have you heard the news? Sharbaraz’ principal wife is with child, and the wizards believe it will be a boy.”

“Congratulations are due her, I’m sure, but why do you—?” Beroshesh stopped the rather offhanded question as he remembered who Sharbaraz’ principal wife was and what relation she held to Abivard. When he spoke again, his tone was more conciliatory: “Of course, lord, I shall endeavor to conform to any requirements you may have of me.”

“I knew you would,” Abivard lied politely. Then, finding a truth he could tell, he went on, “Turan and Tzikas both tell me you have done well in keeping the army supplied through the winter.”

“Even with the ravages of the Videssians, the land of the Thousand Cities remains rich and fertile,” Beroshesh said. “We had no trouble supplying the army’s wants.”

“So I heard, and as I say, I’m glad of it,” Abivard told him. The floodplain was indeed rich and fertile if, even after all the damage it had suffered through the previous year, it still yielded surplus enough to feed the army on top of the peasantry.

“What do you expect Maniakes to do this season?” Beroshesh asked. “Will he come here at all? Will he come from north or south or straight out of the east?”

“Good question,” Abivard said enthusiastically, making as if to applaud. “If you should have a good answer for it, please let me know. Whichever way he comes, though, I’ll fight him. Of that I’m sure.” He hesitated. “Fairly sure.” He couldn’t know for certain the scrying Bogorz had shown him would come to pass in this campaigning season, but that did seem to be the way to bet.

Beroshesh said, “Lord, you have been fighting this Maniakes for many years. Do you not know in your mind what will be in bis?”

That was a legitimate question. In fact, it was better than a legitimate question; it was a downright clever question. Abivard gave it the careful thought it deserved before answering, “My best guess is that he’ll do whatever he doesn’t think we’ll expect him to do. Whether that means setting out from Lyssaion again or picking a new way to get at us, I can’t really tell, I fear.

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