Enlightened Empire-Chapter 397: Keeping it Together

Compared to the cold outside, the air inside the command tent of the southern kingdom’s army was warm and heavy. Not only did the large, burning braziers around the tent’s periphery heat up the place, but so did the many bodies inside. At the helm of them all, furthest into the tent, sat their king. At this very moment, he was receiving a report about their struggle to prevent another damming incident.

“As a result of the men’s efforts and the fast reaction of Corporal Quisuyupanqui, the hill has been successfully retaken, despite heavy resistance from the traitors. For now, Corporal Quisuyupanqui will be spending some more time to reinforce the defensive facilities along the river’s shore. With Corporal Quisuyupanqui’s great command, the traitors will never again get another chance to cross the river and endanger King Corcopaca’s glorious army.”

Sounds like I should just leave my job to this Corporal Quisuyupanqui, huh?

“Right. Okay, good. Thanks for that, good job. You can go write your report now, and hand it in later.”

Although he was annoyed by the messenger who had clearly been instructed to mention and praise his commander as much as possible, Corco didn’t complain about the little tricks. Instead, he just sat on his fancy, uncomfortable chair, with one hand holding his head. With the other, he waved away the messenger.

“Yes, my king.”

Once the man had bowed and left, the inside of the command tent turned quiet. To hear this important report, all the leading figures of Anila’s siege were present. That included Corco, Fadelio, Pahuac Villca and Lord Huaman, as well as the remaining twenty-six squad commanders of Corco’s army, and the sixteen representatives of the southern noble houses who were in charge of leading the army's warriors.

“Alright. Fadelio, once the report comes in, have someone replace every other mention of the glorious Corporal Quisuyupanqui’s name in the paper. I don’t wanna get annoyed and punish him for being ambitious.”

Some of the lords laughed knowingly, while Fadelio bowed and jotted down some notes. With that, the tense and heavy atmosphere within the command tent was lifted slightly.

“At last there is some good news,” Huaman said in a joyous voice. “It seems there is nothing more to worry about on our north-east.”

“I already said that those Anila traitors have no spine." Pahuac added, though his face still looked a bit grim. "None of this was any problem right from the start. Now all that is left to do is crush Anila's walls and take the city.”

“Right. So does anyone here have anything to add?” the king interrupted the beginning of a celebration. They were still in the middle of a war after all, and he didn't have so much time to waste with self-congratulatory nonsense. “Otherwise I’ll consider the issue of dams and rivers over for now, and we can focus on the siege again.”

For a second, everyone looked at each other, with nothing to add. Though to Corco, it looked like Pahuac Villca wanted to talk, before Fadelio spoke up first.

“I believe it might be prudent to spread news of this victory among the men.”

“Yeah, that’s right,” Corco ceded. “We’re long overdue a proper victory, so morale has been a bit flat. Take out some meat and wine, and organize a small celebration tonight. Is that possible?”

As Corco asked, he looked at Lord Huaman, who had officially been put in charge of the camp’s logistics. Though of course, the lord himself did little of his own organizational work. Instead the work was mostly overseen by Corco’s people, and some of Huaman's own men to show the king's trust towards his old ally. Still, even though he wasn't involved in the day-to-day affairs, he had a basic idea about the state of their logistics.

“Not a problem, King Corcopaca," he could thus answer with a raised chest. "Tonight, the camp’s coffers will be wide open, to celebrate another great victory on the kingdom’s path to full control over Medala.”

Before Corco could answer and encourage the lord, Pahuac finally spoke up, with something he had no doubt been long eager to get off his chest.

“You celebrate as if we are already out of danger. But rather than waste time with banquets and arrogance, I believe we need to assess our position more calmly.”

“And what is our position, General Pahuac?” Lord Huaman asked, seemingly unhappy that his shining moment had been soured. However, Pahuac didn't flinch at all and spoke in a low tone that filled the room and made the air heavy one more.

“Alone in enemy lands, that is our position. So long as we are downstream from this river, we are at the mercy of our foes. We cannot stay here like this, and we cannot waste our time on celebrations. We are far too vulnerable here.”

“Antila is an obstacle that cannot be circumvented,” General Scolo refuted, far more logical than Huaman. “We have to take the city if we want to reach Port Ulta. And without taking Port Ulta, the Arcavians will always have a nail stuck in Sachay. If we cannot take the port, the war will never truly end.”

“Could we not get supplies from House Llasto?” another commander asked and began to trace his thoughts on the map that was positioned in the center of the tent. “In that case, we could simply march south to circumvent Antila. Then march south-east until we reach Rufalasta on the south-eastern coast, and then attack north towards Port Ulta. This way, we circumvent their toughest defenses. And once the port falls, Antila would be isolated.”

As the man talked, he continued to look over to Corco, eager to show off his ability in front of the king. Clearly, it was a strategy that the commander had considered for a long time, something he was now ready to use for his advancement. However, Scolo shot down his idea immediately.

“Impossible.” the veteran mercenary shook his head. “It would be far too easy for our enemies in Antila and Aywabamba to harass us on our way south. We’d be exhausted long before we reach Rufalasta.”

“And Lord Llasto simply does not have the supplies to feed such a large army. The lord has been isolated, because he has sided with the crown in this civil war. Surrounded by enemies, he has had a hard time defending his lands, we cannot expect more from him,” Fadelio added. “Don’t forget that we can only stay here because of the roads we have built over the past three years. In case we leave our established supply lines and cannot force a quick decision, we would be in real trouble.”

As usual, Fadelio said the things Corco couldn't. With his current influence, the king had to be careful when he spoke in public meetings, so the attendant had become his voice ever since the lightning miracle.

“As I said, Antila cannot be bypassed.” Scolo repeated with a satisfied smile on his face, clearly happy that Fadelio was on his side. “We have to force a decision here to win the war.”

“So all we can do is stay patient and vigilant.” Corco concluded the discussion. Although he saw that the other commander was unhappy, he wouldn't put his men in danger just to make one subordinate happy. “Make sure there are no more tricks like the attempt with the dam. So long as we work steadily and don’t make mistakes, we’ll grind them down eventually. Which brings us right back to our starting point: The matter of the dam is handled for now, right?”

Usually, discussions were considered over once the king made his remarks. This time however, Pahuac still wasn’t done.

“I don’t like it,” he said. “We should do something, anything, to speed up our siege. We have wasted far too much time here, and the men are getting restless. Now we are wasting precious supplies just to keep them happy. And we now have to worry about getting flooded, which will further split our attention.”

“So what shall we do then?” Lord Huaman asked.

“Use fire, smoke them out of their damned stone box. Those Antila cowards are so scared that they always build their houses huddled together, to cram it all into their little walls.” Pahuac snorted. “A single bit of good kindling and all our problems are gone.”

“We’re trying to conquer the city, not destroy it.”

Fadelio frowned in response. Of course Corco himself couldn’t just openly feud with his allies, so he was forced to just sit and listen again. At least Fadelio was there as his representative, to help him express his ideas. Though of course, even Fadelio couldn’t reveal the whole truth. House Villca of Cashan and House Sucopia of Antila had been neighbors for centuries, and they had never been friends.

Throughout the generations, they had feuded over control of the Anticasa mountain range, and the lucrative mountain pass that led through it. To the Villca general, this would look like a chance to finally destroy their old enemies completely. If he could, surely Pahuac would want to raze the city and replace it with a little fort under Cashan’s control.

Thus, even though he found no allies for his radical ideas, Pahuac continued to prod.

“Then if you want to keep the walls, we throw some diseased goats or corpses over the wall. Once disease spreads in the city, they will have to capitulate.”

“But we are trying to conquer the people as well,” Scolo said. “We should avoid another tragedy like Kapra.”

“Our finances are already strained from supporting all the survivors of Kapra through the winter. If we need to add refugees from Antila, as well as the potential spread of a deadly disease, our economy might collapse.” This time, Fadelio’s frown deepened. Corco understood why. This plan of Pahuac's was no longer just reckless, it was obsessive.

“And what if the disease spreads to our armies? Our camp is built in a compact manner as well. A disease could hit us harder than our foes,” Huaman added.

“This cannot be done, and that cannot be done!” Pahuac shouted. His fist landed on the table with enough force to scatter the paper. “We have been sitting here for half a moon, with no progress! While we sit, our foes gather more reinforcements in Port Ulta. The longer we sit, the weaker we look! Maybe the two northern kingdoms will decide to join the traitors any moment now. I say we turn the damn city into a coffin if we have to! Just end the war now, and reduce our losses before they can try any more tricks!”

“Lord Pahuac, what more tricks can they try? There is only one river near Antila,” Huaman laughed.

“That’s right. We cannot-”

Before Scolo continued his complaint, he was interrupted by a shout.

“Stop.”

Finally, Corco intervened. Although he had no plans to massacre one of his kingdom’s cities, he also didn’t want to see one of his allies isolated and bombarded by his own people. They would have to work together for a long time in the future, so he would rather not let Pahuac leave his tent with a grudge. As soon as Corco spoke, everyone else went quiet. This time, no more interruptions would be permitted, that much should have been clear from the king's stern face and tone.

“General Pahuac. Your plans are all feasible in theory, and I understand your urgency.” As the king tried to pacify his ally, he slowly stood up. All eyes were on him. Some looked unhappy with his conciliatory words, but he couldn’t be too one-sided here, or Pahuac would never listen.

“However,” the king continued, “we cannot afford another blow to our kingdom’s reputation. All this time, for years, we have been considered weaklings, or heretics, or barbarians, or traitors. All of those stories have been spread straight from Arguna, straight from within the Moonlight Zigurrat.”

Normally, the king would simply give his orders at the end of a discussion and leave it at that, but since Pahuac had to be pacified, Corco took his time to explain his thoughts in detail.

“Now, we finally have the chance to fight back. We’ve won over a significant portion of reformers within the priesthood, and the open rebellion of some of our lords and their subsequent slaughter of Kapra finally gave us the moral high ground. At least for a while, no one can smear our good names, not even the elders in Arguna. At least this time, no one can deny that we are the good guys. That’s important diplomatic capital. It allows other lords in the north to work with us without being ostracized. It also makes us even more attractive to immigrants from the north. Even if the walls of Antila are tough to crack, these are advantages that I’m not willing to give up for a quick victory.”

Corco paused for effect. When he saw that Pahuac was about to say something, he quickly interrupted him. Clearly, the younger Villca still wasn’t convinced.

“Plus, if we take the city over intact, we can use it as a supply point to march east more quickly. At that point, we would have broken the enemy’s main force, and we would stand right in front of Port Ulta, with a stable supply line behind us. So the war will be decided right here, one way or another. Anything after that will be an encore at best.”

“I understand. However, it would still be to our advantage to solve Antila as quickly as possible. The longer we are stuck here, the more chances there are for matters to go awry, here or elsewhere. Any changes could endanger our assured victory.”

This time, Pahuac was no longer screaming. However, he was still insistent. Yet in the time he had been talking, the king had come up with a solution that would make both sides happy, at least he hoped it would.

“That’s exactly right. We can’t wait forever,” Corco agreed immediately. “But there’s at least one area in where time is our advantage, rather than theirs. Just look outside. Winter has finally come to an end, and the snow has started to melt.”

“Is that an advantage?” Huaman asked. His confusion was understandable. After all, the southern kingdom’s army was better supplied, and even wore white winter coats that made them almost invisible against the snow. In open combat, their advantage would shrink once the snow was gone. Still, Corco was optimistic.

“Sure.” He shrugged, pretending a surety he didn’t quite have. “Once we’ve drained all the water, our digging work will become much easier in the defrosted earth. We’ll be able to get deeper too. The ground is finally ready for some proper projects.”

Of course, there were other strategies, mostly weapons he could employ to win the battle more quickly. However, there were many more wars ahead of them, and he didn't want to give his enemies any ideas before he was ready to face them. For now, this plan would have to do. Thus, Corco forced a natural looking grin again, to pretend certainty, and then turned to the stubborn Villca general.

“Pahuac Villca, you will be my general in charge of our general attack. Get us close to the walls and keep our enemies busy. Don’t give them time to think. In the meantime, General Scolo will get to work underground. Dig under the walls, and use gunpowder to collapse them from below.”

Immediately, Scolo laughed. “One good boom and their precious wall will be nothing more than rubble.”

“So then that’s the plan for now," Corco concluded as he sat back down. "If we can keep our purpose hidden for long enough, this war will end in a month at most. Can you help us achieve our goals, General Pahuac Villca?”

Although it was a question, Corco's strained tone and stern face should have made it clear to everyone that he wasn't asking any more. He had already done a lot to pacify the general. If Pahuac still made trouble at this point, the king would just send him back to Cashan. However, it seemed like the general had finally received the memo.

“Of course. You do your dig. I shall play with those Sucopia bastards as long as you want to. And if we happen to kill all of them before you are done with your tunnel, you should never complain.”

At last, Pahuac had a smile on his face, which let Corco sigh in relief. At last, he had managed to pacify his retainer and refocused their efforts on what was important. Thus, the commanders of the southern army spent the next four hours working out the details of the plan, until everyone had concrete orders to relay to their subordinates.

Finally, with their new plan set, Corco could end this strategy meeting. After the commanders had left his tent, the weary king continued to sit on the uncomfortable chair that was ‘necessary to show the king’s prestige’ and ‘not that bad’. Fadelio’s words, not his.

With his hands still restrained by his heavy gloves, the king picked up the reports from his wife back home in Saniya. Since the ‘lightning miracle’, he had learned that there was never enough time during a revolution, and always more to do. Now, he couldn’t even meet his own wife anymore.

Maybe I should have just let Mayu take over and retired. He couldn’t have been that bad, right?

As he mused idly, the king of the south got back to work.