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The portal between the previously Sharonian-claimed universes of New Uromath and Thermyn was located in the flat plains of northwestern Elath in Central Andara, but the portal between Thermyn and Nairsom lay a good twelve hundred miles south of there. That put it in a deep, narrow, inconveniently placed valley in the mountains near what should have been the city of Gerynth in the Kingdom of Yanko, where the co
The good news was that it was only a little more than six hundred miles from Drekon to his next portal, located in the Kingdom of Lokan's Duchy of Kanaiya. The bad news was that it lay at the northern tip of Lake Kanaiya, and while the weather at Drekon was only pleasantly crisp, the temperature in Kanaiya was going to be quite another matter. And from Five Hundred Neshok's prisoner interrogation, it looked like a leg of well over three thousand miles once he'd crossed over from Nairsom to Resym.
Yet those were merely logistical details, to be taken in stride, he reminded himself as he climbed down from the dragon. To be sure, those "details" meant there was no way in any world that he could possibly hope to reach Traisum before Harshu. He'd simply had to accept that he'd been turfed out of any of the glory for the conquest of that universe and that that miserable Air Force puke Toralk was going to get credit for it, instead. Still, by the same token, he'd been given an independent command, whereas Toralk was going to be right under Harshu's eagle eye.
The question in his mind was why Harshu had arranged things that way. Several hypotheses suggested themselves to him, ranging from the possibility that Harshu had such unbridled trust in him that he was the only man suitable for the task (which Carthos rated as only a little less likely than holding the wi
That was the possibility that worried the thousand. On the face of things, it wasn't very likely anyone knew, given how carefully both he and mul Gurthak had covered their tracks. But if Harshu had figured it out before he decided to send Carthos clear out here on the "flanking sweep," as he'd called it in his orders, then several thoroughly unpleasant possible futures presented themselves to Carthos' scrutiny.
The fact that it was illegal for a senior officer to cosign a loan for one of his subordinates could lead to ugly repercussions if Harshu reported it to the Inspector General. It happened from time to time, anyway, as everyone perfectly understood, but seldom if ever on the scale of Carthos' dealings with mul Gurthak. Or, rather, with the Central Bank of Mythal, upon whose Loan Board one of mul Gurthak's i
If it came to a formal investigation, Carthos would be lucky if he was allowed to resign his commission without additional (and probably painful) disciplinary action. Even prison time was entirely likely, if only as a horrible example to discourage others from following in his footsteps. He knew that. But what worried him even more than that was the possibility that a thorough investigation would also discover all the small favors he'd done mul Gurthak over the last few years. Although there'd never been anything quite so crude as an openly demanded quid pro quo, there'd also never been any question in Carthos'
own mind that those "favors" constituted the true interest on his past-due loans. He was quite certain the IG would see it that way, at any rate. And if the private memos mul Gurthak had sent to him at the same time the Mythalan two thousand had ordered him forward to join Harshu ever came under public scrutiny, things would get very, very ugly.
And if Harshu had already become aware of them ... .
Stop it, Tayrgal! the thousand told himself sharply. If he knows, he knows. And if he did know, he probably wouldn't have settled for just sending you off to the backside of nowhere.
"Sir! Welcome to Nairsom!"
"Thank you, Five Hundred Eswayr." Carthos returned Commander of Five Hundred Pahkrys Eswayr's salute. Eswayr—a wiry, fair-haired Inkaran—was his senior ground forces battalion commander.
Carthos found his accent rather hard to follow (the islanders seemed to take a perverse delight in massacring the pronunciation of Andaran), but the five hundred seemed a reasonably competent sort, if a bit on the overenthusiastic side.
"I see Hundred Helika's reds were reasonably effective," Carthos continued dryly, looking past Eswayr at the blazing wreckage Commander of One Hundred Faryx Helika's 5001st Strike had left where the small Sharonian portal fort used to be.
"Yes, Sir." Eswayr turned to survey the same scene, and grimaced. "I know you wanted it intact, Thousand. I'm afraid it was just a bit more flammable than our pilots assumed it would be."
"I see." Carthos hid a grimace of his own. Somehow, he doubted the Air Force would have made the same mistake if Toralk had been here to ride herd on them. On the other hand, to be fair (not that he particularly wanted to be), Carthos himself had emphasized to Five Hundred Karth Mala, his senior Air Force officer, that it was essential that the fort be taken out fast and hard. And since Harshu had retained both of Toralk's yellows ... .
"May I assume the Voice chain has been cut?" the thousand asked after a moment.
"Yes, Sir. The strike teams located the relay station and took it out last night. And it appears that the portal Voice was killed in the initial strike on the fort."
"So there's something to be said for overkill, after all," Carthos observed with a desert-dry smile. Then he shrugged. "To be honest, Pahkrys, I'm just as glad Hundred Halika's opening strike leveled the place."
He twitched his head at the demolished fort. "I was never too happy about the distance to the next portal.
I know there was a relay station, but it's only about six hundred miles. If the information we have on these Voices is accurate, quite a few of them could reach that far without a relay."
"I know, Sir." Eswayr seemed to relax just a little.
"Well, then!" Carthos said, straightening briskly and planting his hands on his hips. "I suppose it's time I had a few words with Five Hundred Mala and we started getting the troops forward again."
"Yes, Sir," Eswayr said once more. Then he seemed to hesitate for a moment. "Uh, Sir, I did have one other question."
"Question?" Carthos looked back at the infantry officer, one eyebrow arched.
"Yes, Sir. We have a few prisoners, Sir. I was just wondering what you wanted me to do about them."
"Prisoners?" Carthos repeated with a frown. "What sort of prisoners? How many of them?"
"There are only about fifteen of them," Eswayr said. "Three of them are pretty badly burned."
"Any officers?"
"No, Sir. Mostly enlisted, with a couple of noncoms."
"I see." Carthos gazed unseeingly into the crackling flames consuming the fort for several heartbeats, then returned his gaze to Eswayr.
"Has anyone questioned them?"
"Yes, Sir. They ... didn't seem to know very much."
"And you believed them?"
"According to the verifier spells they were telling the truth, Sir."
"Then they're not very useful, are they?" Carthos observed.
"Apparently not," Eswayr agreed. "On the other hand, Five Hundred Neshok might be able to get more out of them by asking the right questions."
"But Five Hundred Neshok is the better part of three thousand miles from here with Two Thousand Harshu," Carthos pointed out. "It would take us just a while to get the prisoners to him. And by the time any information he got out of them got back to us, it would probably be hopelessly out of date."
Eswayr nodded, and Carthos' nostrils flared. He didn't much care for these Sharonians. He wouldn't have under any circumstances, but even if he'd been inclined to, there were those memos from mul Gurthak to consider.
"I don't see any point tying up a transport on that sort of useless shuttle mission, Five Hundred," he said.
"It's not like we have all that many of them to spare, after all."
"No, Sir," Eswayr agreed.
"And if they don't have any useful information for us, then I don't really see much point in hauling them along with us, either."
Carthos looked levelly into Eswayr's eyes. For a moment, he thought the five hundred was going to balk.
But then the Inkaran drew a deep breath.
"Yes, Sir. I'll ... take care of it."
"Good." Carthos patted the smaller man on the shoulder with a smile. "I'll leave it in your hands, then.
Now, where can I find Five Hundred Mala?"