Page 175 of The Infernal Battalion

“Whatever the reason,” Winter said, her tone still formal, “it’s clear we can’t count on his assistance. So the situation is this: somehow, I need to reach the core of the Beast and use Infernivore to destroy it.”

“Can you identify the core?” Raesinia said. “What is it?”

“A person. The first one the Beast took over.” There was a faint hitch in Winter’s voice. “I can identify it.”

“Even if it doesn’t think you’re nearby, I assume the Beast will keep the core well protected,” Marcus said, looking at Winter for confirmation. She nodded, a momentary awkwardness as their eyes met quickly smothered under military professionalism.

“It will,” she said. “It’s possible that our best chance would come during a major battle, where the Beast’s forces would have to deploy over a wider area.”

“Which puts things back in the domain of the military,” Sothe said.

“Do you want to go over the situation for everyone?” Raesinia asked Marcus.

“Want is putting it strongly,” Marcus said with a grimace. He couldn’t help darting a glance at Winter. She—​she—​was watching him intently. Focus. Raesinia needs you more than ever. He walked to the table and started to lay small wooden counters on the map.

“After Alves,” he said, “Janus pursued my army south along the Pale for quite a distance. Our garrisons in the Illifen passes were enough to keep his detachments west of the mountains until he gave up the chase and marched his main force to push through. Unfortunately, we now believe he met with considerable reinforcements from Murnsk at this point, more than making good his losses in the campaign so far.

“He took his time reducing the forts on the east side of the pass, giving him a clean line of communications back to Alves that we can’t interfere with. From there, as you can see, he had to deal with the Marak.” On the map, Marcus traced the line of the river Marak, running almost due south from its source near the mountains to where it emptied into the Vor twenty miles downstream of Vordan.

“The terrain is better west of the river,” Winter said. “Nice and flat, plenty of room to maneuver. Exactly what you’d want if you had an advantage in numbers. But...”

“He’d have to cross the river once he got here,” Raesinia said. She grinned at Marcus. “I haven’t entirely forgotten your strategy lessons.”

“Exactly,” Marcus said. “The Marak is wide enough to be a serious obstacle, and the Vor is even bigger. There are only a few bridges north of the city, and none to the south before Ohms. And he has to know by now that we have a Borelgai fleet backing us. Even if we can’t get the men-of-war up the Marak, the frigates would make short work of a small-​boat attack. Without his own fleet, he’d have to try to outmarch us in search of a crossing, and risk our striking at the pass to cut him off.”

“Splitting his army would be inviting an attack,” Winter said. “So he’s coming down the east bank?”

“For the most part,” Marcus said. “There’s some cavalry on the west side, watching the crossings to make sure we don’t slip around to his rear. But the bulk of his forces are coming due south, between the Marak and the Vor. From scouting reports, our best guess is that he has the equivalent of seven divisions, a bit more than sixty thousand men.”

“And we have?” Sothe asked, in the ensuing silence.

This was what had been keeping Marcus up late at night, going over strength reports and recruiting estimates. At least, it was what was keeping me up before Winter got back. “We got out of Alves with two divisions, the First and the Second, plus fragments of other units that escaped the battle. Between depot battalions, garrisons from the south, and fresh recruits, we’ve got enough bodies to fill one more. With the cavalry reserve, that gives us about thirty thousand bayonets and sabers.”

“Meaning we’re outnumbered two to one,” Raesinia said. “I’m not a military expert, but that sounds bad.”

“What about civilian volunteers?” Sothe said. “That worked in the revolution.”

“We’ll use whatever we can,” Marcus said. “But I’m skeptical they’ll be much good against a seasoned army. In the revolution, our skirmishers caught the loyalists off guard, but Janus won’t make the same mistake.”

“We don’t need to defeat Janus,” Winter said. “If I can get to the Beast, that army should fall apart. And if I can’t, then none of this will matter.”

“You’re going to need time to find the core,” Marcus said. “It’s no good if we’re swept off the field at the first charge, which is what would happen if we just deployed in the open and waited for him.”

“It sounds like you have an idea,” Raesinia said, toying nervously with one of the red-​painted counters.

“I see two possibilities, but I don’t like either of them.” Marcus took a deep breath. “The first is that we abandon Ohnlei and fall back to the city itself. Fortify as much as we can, fight house to house. Blow up the bridges to the island, when Janus gets that far.”

There was a shocked silence. The ancient bridges of Vordan City were more than just a means of getting across the river—​they were cultural artifacts, tying the kingdom to its ancient origins. Suggesting their demolition in the name of military expediency was close to sacrilege, especially since they were named for the holiest saints.

“We can’t stop them,” Marcus said after a moment. “Maybe if Vordan City had a proper wall, but it doesn’t. But we can slow them down and make them pay in blood for every street. And it will certainly buy Winter the time she needs.”

“No,” Raesinia said. Her hand gripped the edge of the table, hard enough that her knuckles stood out in stark white.

“I know it seems cruel,” Sothe said. “But if we win—”

“What’s the good in winning if the city is rubble by the time we’re finished?” Raesinia said. “We can’t bring the war into the streets. Vordan City had enough of that during the revolution. I’d rather abdicate.”

“The alternative isn’t abdication,” Sothe said. “It’s losing all of humanity to the Beast.”