Helga laid a cold cloth on his forehead, and he held back a groan of relief. “Always thinking of the welfare of the State, eh, Father?”
“If a Demansk doesn’t, who will?”
She nodded. “But Father, what’s to prevent us from using these . . . new devices?” He noted that she avoided the word he’d used. “A city’s a big concentrated stationary target. From what I’ve seen and heard, hellpowder would be hell on fortifications.”
He blinked, startled. “You know,” he said, “there may be something to that . . . I’ve been sort of focused on getting into Preble against the Emerald’s toys.” He thought for a moment. “That bears considering, girl. It certainly does.”
TEN
“All hail to the King! O King, live forever! All abase themselves before King Casull IV, King of the Isles, Overlord of the Western Seas!”
The leather-lunged herald cried out the call as the flagship of the Royal fleet dropped anchor. The vermillion-painted oars of the quinquereme pulled in all together, the crew trained to the precision of dancers. Behind it the hundred and twenty hulls of the Isles’ war fleet—not counting a score or more of transports and storeships—closed in, not quite as precisely, but with a heartening display of fine seamanship.
Especially heartening when you compare it to the Confed fleet’s, Adrian thought, as he went to his knees along with all the other thousands of onlookers. Watching the Confed quinqueremes wallowing into their temporary harbor down the coast had been reassuring, especially when a couple fouled each other in the entranceway, breaking oars and killing rowers. Reassuring, until one saw how many there were.
Standing near Prince Tenny with the high command he had the luxury of kneeling and pressing his forehead to a soft carpet instead of hard slimy cobbles, at least. He still came upright as quickly as he could, looking hungrily at the low turtle-backed shape with the covered wheels on either side that followed along behind a quinquereme, the tow rope coming free of the blue-green water now and then in a shower of spray. That was his particular baby. The warships made a formidable bulk, even in the magnificent circular harbor at the northern edge of Preble, and even with all the merchant shipping that had crowded in to take advantage of wartime prices when it became obvious the city wasn’t going to fall quickly. The docks were black with people, or gray and red depending on the color of turbans and veils. So were the flat roofs of the houses that rose in a three-quarter circle above the water.
Casull came ashore glittering like a serpent in armor washed with silver and gold; the nobles and household troops around him were only a little less gorgeous. The trident banner of the Isles floated above him, and over the gaudy, metal-shining mass of ships and troops behind him. The citizens of Preble cheered themselves hoarse, throwing dried rose petals before Casull’s feet. Priests in white robes and spotted leoger-hide cloaks sprayed scented water and intoned prayers; as the King set foot on land, the knives of sacrificers flashed and greatbeasts and woolbeasts died on altars.
“So,” the King said at last, when the processions and sacrifices and speeches were over. He took off the tall spired helmet with its scarlet and green plumes. “I hate that polluted thing—even heavier and hotter than a war helm, when the sun’s out.”
Adrian smiled politely. The meeting was small: he, Esmond, Sharlz Thicelt, Enry Sharbonow, the admiral of the Royal fleet, a few aides and Prince Tenny, sitting on cushions amid blue tendrils of incense smoke from fretted gold censers.
Casull went on, looking around the round chamber walled in rose marble where the Syndics of Preble had once met: “They do themselves well here—I’m surprised some enterprising Confed didn’t have it shipped to Vanbert!” The smile hardened. “I’ve heard good things of how the defense has gone here, under my son.”
Tenny bowed, smirking.
Esmond bowed and spoke. “Lord King, live forever. Under the Prince’s inspired leadership, we’ve smashed their attempt to build a causeway out to Preble, and we’ve inflicted heavy casualties—several thousand men, as opposed to a few score on our side. Even Justiciar Demansk, second-in-command of the Confed forces opposite us, was badly injured. However, the Confed fleet is now nearly ready to take to sea. The city can’t hold if the Confeds command the seas around it.”