As both divisions of the Southern Army moved closer to the center, Venka’s correspondence had come back faster and faster. Now Venka and Cholang were merely a week’s ride away—close enough to converge on Arlong in a joint attack.
“This is from six days ago.” The messenger handed Rin the scroll. “She wants a quick response.”
“Understood,” Rin said. “Wait outside.”
The messenger gave a curt nod and left the command tent. Rin checked that he was out of hearing range, then ripped the scroll open with her teeth.
Change of plans. Don’t move yet on Arlong—my scouts say he’s taking forces north to meet us between the mountains. Rendezvous at Dragab? Please confirm as soon you can; we’d rather not walk alone into a massacre.
“Dragab?” Rin asked. “Where’s that?”
“Little outpost south of Xuzhou.” Kitay had been reading over her shoulder. “And Xuzhou is, I assume, where the Republic intends to meet us.”
“But that’s . . .” Rin trailed off, trying to work through her mental map of Southern and Republican troop placements. This didn’t track. All this time they had assumed Nezha would keep his forces in Arlong city proper, where the Red Cliffs and canals offered him the clearest advantage. “Why would he push north?”
“I can guess three reasons,” Kitay said. “One, Xuzhou’s situated over a narrow mountain channel, which restricts the fighting terrain to the opposite cliffsides and the wide ravine beneath. Two, it’s monsoon season, and the water locks into the pass when the rains get heavy. And three, it’s on our only route to Arlong.”
“That’s not true,” she said. “We could cut around it, there are forest passes—”
“Yes, with roads so bumpy we won’t be able to move any of our heavy artillery, and then we’ll still have to scale down mountain faces that leave us wide open for their archers. Nezha knows we’re coming through for him. He intends to choke us off in the mountains, where your shamans can’t strike with discrimination, which forces the battle into a conventional bloodbath.”
“So this isn’t some last, desperate feint,” Rin said. “It’s an invitation.”
Then why on earth should the Southern Army accept?
Even as the question rose to her lips, the answer became obvious. They should take Xuzhou as their next battleground, purely because it wasn’t Arlong.
Nezha’s power amplified the closer he was to sources of water. Under the Red Cliffs, where the Murui filtered into canals that surrounded every inch of Arlong, he’d be nearly unstoppable. He’d be right on top of the Dragon’s grotto. Xuzhou was their last, and best, chance to fight him while separating him from his god.
Rin saw the grim press of Kitay’s mouth, and knew that he’d realized the same. Xuzhou might be Nezha’s dominant strategy, but it was theirs, too.
He nodded to the scroll. “Shall we give him what he wants?”
Rin hated that phrasing. This choice was frustrating. Unanticipated. She didn’t like meeting their opponent on a terrain of his choosing, under the least favorable strategic conditions possible.
And yet, deep in her gut, she felt a hot coil of excitement.
Until now, this had not been a true war, only a series of skirmishes against cowards in retreat. Every win so far had meant nothing except as instrumental fuel for this moment, when at last they’d meet true resistance. This was the final test. Rin wanted to go up against Nezha’s best-prepared strategy and see who came out on top.
“Why not?” she said at last. “Nezha’s finally putting his pieces on the board. So let’s play.”
She stepped outside the tent to summon the messenger. He extended his hand, expecting a written reply, but she shook her head. “I’ll be brief. Tell Venka to route to Dragab quick as she can. We’ll be waiting.”
Chapter 27
“I see you found some seamstresses.” Venka’s eyes roved over the Southern Army’s neat brown uniforms as she dismounted from her horse to clasp Rin’s hand in greeting. “Do I get one?”
“Of course,” Rin said. “It’s waiting in the tent.”
“General’s stripe and everything?”
“Is this your way of asking for a promotion?” Kitay asked.
“I’ve just handed you the north,” said Venka. “That’s half a fucking country, mind you. I think the title General Sring is a little overdue, don’t you?”
“Honestly,” said Rin, “I thought you’d just take the title for yourself.”
“Honestly,” said Venka, “I did.”
They grinned at each other.
Venka and Cholang’s troops filed into the southern camp at Dragab, falling eagerly on the prepared meals by the campfires. They’d emerged from their northern expedition with close to their original numbers—an impressive achievement, given that the Dog Province’s militia had historically only waged battle against underequipped raiders from the Hinterlands. They also came bearing gifts—wagon upon wagon of spare armor, swords, and shields carted down from the forges in Tiger Province.
After Venka and Cholang had eaten, they joined Rin and Kitay on the floor of the command tent with a map spread between them to piece together their joint intelligence.
“It’s an odd play.” Venka marked Republican columns in blue ink along the eastern end of the Xuzhou ravine. “I really don’t know why he’s not just committing all his defenses to Arlong, especially if he can control the fucking river.”
“Agreed,” Kitay said. “But we think that’s the point. He wants to take the Phoenix out of the equation.”
“Why, just because we’ll be fighting in close quarters?” Cholang asked.
“And because of the rain,” Rin said. “He can call the rain, can make it fall as hard or as thick as he likes. Bit hard to sustain a flame when the sky keeps putting it out.”
They all regarded the map for a few seconds in silence.
The battle for Xuzhou had become a game of warring tactics, a puzzle that Rin had to admit was highly entertaining. It felt like the sort of exam question she might receive from Master Irjah. Xuzhou was the field of engagement. The limiting conditions were known: The rain disadvantaged them both by damping down fire and fire powder alike. Nezha had superior numbers, better artillery capabilities, and fresher troops due to a shorter march. Nezha had the rain. But Rin had shamans Nezha didn’t know about, and she could get to Xuzhou first.
Given the circumstances, piece together a winning strategy.
After a moment, Venka sighed. “What’s this coming down to, then? Pure attrition? Are we just going to slug it out in the mud?”
None of them wanted that. No good commander ever left an outcome to the chances that sheer, mindless friction produced. The brunt of the fighting might very well come down to swords, spears, and shields, but they had to find some gambit, some hidden advantage that Nezha hadn’t thought of.
Suddenly Kitay began to chuckle.
“What?” Rin asked. She didn’t follow; she didn’t know what he’d seen that she hadn’t. But that didn’t matter. Kitay had solved it, and that was all she needed.