Wexler, Django - The Shadow Campaigns 04 - The Guns of Empire by Wexler Django

Author:Wexler, Django [Wexler, Django]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Penguin Publishing Group
Published: 2016-07-18T10:11:02+00:00

RAESINIA

Raesinia had never seen Marcus so agitated when there wasn’t actually shooting going on. He paced the length of her tent, turned, and retraced his steps, ignoring the meal on the table.

“Horses are the real problem,” he said. “With the army in tents, we could cut rations, at least for a while. But we don’t have enough fodder to go around, and with everything snowed under, we’re not getting any more except from the depots. We need the horses to haul the wagons from the depots to get the fodder to feed the horses! We’re using everything we have, and it’s still not enough. The weakest are dying already. The more we lose, the harder it’ll be to keep up the convoys.

“We’ve got fevers and coughs spreading fast, and probably flux to follow. The white riders are pouncing on anyone that leaves the camp, and yesterday some idiot chopped a hole in the river ice because he wanted a bath! We’re running out of deadwood to burn, and green wood won’t dry fast enough. Every general is telling me his men are raising hell. We can’t stay here. Much longer and the whole army will fall apart.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” Raesinia said. “I’ve seen it.” She’d made a few tours of the camp, trying to keep up morale.

“He hasn’t,” Marcus said. “He hasn’t come down off his hill for days.”

“You’ve tried to tell him this, I assume?” Raesinia said.

Marcus nodded wearily. “He just insists that the weather will change in time. He’s calculated it, somehow. Something about how much power a demon can have.” Marcus looked over his shoulder. “Ordinarily, I try not to meddle in the . . . strange side of things. Janus knows what he’s doing. And I don’t pretend to be able to understand what he’s talking about, but it feels wrong. Like wishful thinking.”

“So what are you going to do about it?”

“What can I do?” Marcus ran a hand through his hair. “Sit here and hope he’s right. Hope the weather changes before we get mass desertions or have to start eating each other. It won’t be the first miracle he’s pulled out of his hat.”

Raesinia let out an inward sigh. Even now, staring disaster in the face, Marcus couldn’t conceive of a world where he disobeyed Janus. If the First Consul ordered his troops to stand and die to the last man, Marcus would be the final one to fall.

“Is there anything I can do?” Raesinia said. “We know he’s not likely to listen to me.”

“That’s what I came to talk to you about,” Marcus said. His voice was grim. “You’re not going to like this, I know, but please listen to me. I think you should go back, at least to Polkhaiz.”

He can’t be serious. “How will it look if the queen abandons the army?”

“What’s going to happen to Vordan if the queen and the First Consul freeze to death in the middle of Murnsk?” He looked guilty at just voicing the thought out loud.

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