In fact, the closer they’d come to Vordan City, the more she’d found herself wishing the voyage could last forever. No sooner had the thought occurred to her, though, than she banished it. I’m still the queen. My people need me. And we’re going to win, damn it, and then Marcus and I will marry and the hell with anyone who tells me it’s inappropriate. Then, at least for a few years, they could be together. Until people start to wonder about me.
The boat hit the water, and the rowers pushed it away from the Dominant, breaking Raesinia’s reverie. The big ship was anchored just below the row of pilings that were Vordan City’s first line of defense against a seaborne attack from the south. The huge stone pillars were anchored to the bottom of the river in a line from the north bank to the south, and mammoth iron chains could be threaded through metal loops atop them to close off the river.
All the contrast of Vordan City was on full display here. On the south bank, a small creek emptied out of a swampy stretch of land known as the Bottoms, a dumping ground for the very poorest of the city’s rejects, those who couldn’t find a place in even the cavernous, crime-?ridden streets of Newtown. Shacks built out of scraps and driftwood stood on the few bits of solid ground.
On the north side, the riverbank below the pilings was home to what the public had dubbed the Fairy Castles, products of a trend among the Vordanai nobility to build their palatial homes in a style that suggested medieval fortresses. They had crenellated walls, big stone keeps, and tall, slender towers too thin for anyone to actually live in, combined with decidedly unmartial touches like huge colored glass windows and wide, well-?tended gardens. Having recently been in the Keep, which had been an actual fortress, Raesinia found herself raising an amused eyebrow at these parodies. They were dark and shuttered, for the most part, the nobility having fled the city for country estates during the revolution and not yet returned.
Above the pilings, on both sides of the river, were the water batteries, brick-?walled embrasures stocked with heavy cannon. The last time Raesinia had been there was when they’d boarded the Rosnik, sinking the Thousand Names in the river under the noses of Maurisk and his Black Priest allies. It hadn’t been an entirely successful expedition, since Raesinia herself had been captured by Ionkovo. Temporarily. She permitted herself a small smile. I got one up on him in the end.
The longboat was rowed between two pilings where the chain had been lowered; it passed into the harbor proper and headed for the docks on the north side, beside the battery. Behind them were the South Docks, the riverbank lined with quays and piers that ought to have been bustling with traffic but were instead nearly empty. Obviously, the news of Janus’ approach was not inspiring confidence. To the east, Raesinia could see the ugly spire of the Vendre, the prison where the revolutionaries had won their first victory. Which I managed to fall off the top of, after Faro shot me in the head. In terms of memories, coming into the city like this is a seriously mixed bag.
A short pier had been cleared for their arrival. At the foot of it were a score of blue-?uniformed soldiers accompanying several civilians. When they got closer, Raesinia recognized Deputy d’Andorre, still in his blue suit with silver piping, though he was now wearing both his deputy’s sash of office and a wide belt that glittered with gold thread.
A dockhand, looking overawed, rushed forward to tie the longboat up and then hurried out of the way. The Borelgai stayed put—?Raesinia had talked to Duke Dorsay, and they’d agreed that she and Marcus should handle this on their own. Barely hopped nimbly out of the boat and lent her hand to Joanna, and then the pair of them assisted Marcus and Raesinia. The rest of the soldiers followed. D’Andorre and his men waited until they approached, and then the deputy offered a shallow bow, while the men behind him saluted.
“Welcome back, Your Highness,” d’Andorre said. “The entire kingdom rejoices to see you safe.”
“It’s good to be on Vordanai soil again,” Raesinia said. Her eyes went to the gold belt, which had the look of a badge of office. D’Andorre caught her gaze and smiled thinly.
“In your absence, the Deputies-?General have done me the honor of naming me chief minister. They felt that the ministries required a... guiding hand, in the crisis.”
“I see.” Raesinia kept her face blank. Is that a grab for power? Or just a reasonable precaution? “Very well, Chief Minister. Our Borelgai allies require access to the harbor, so we can unload General d’Ivoire’s army.” She glanced at Marcus. “General d’Ivoire is hereby appointed to command of all Vordanai armed forces and particularly the immediate defense of Vordan City.”
D’Andorre shifted his attention from Raesinia to Marcus. “Welcome, General. How many men are in your force?”
“Twenty thousand, give or take,” Marcus said. “If you’re worried about quartering them, rest assured we don’t plan to remain in the city long—”
“It’s not quartering that concerns me,” d’Andorre said. “Are you aware that Emperor Vhalnich’s approaching army is said to number nearly a hundred thousand men?”
“I seriously doubt that,” Marcus said. “My information puts it closer to sixty thousand.”
“Either way, it seems clear that we are not strong enough to engage him with a hope of success,” d’Andorre said. “At least from my admittedly civilian viewpoint.”
“There are more troops gathering in the city, are there not?” Marcus said.
“And the Borelgai are our allies,” Raesinia added. “The fleet is here, and an army will join us as soon as it’s able.”
“Which will be too late,” d’Andorre said. “The men in the city amount to perhaps ten thousand, and they are the sweepings of the depots and the greenest recruits. That brings the odds to a mere two to one. It’s not enough, General.”
“Unless you have a suggestion for securing more men,” Raesinia said, “then I suggest you leave military matters to General d’Ivoire. He has already considered alternative plans—”
“The alternative is not a military one, Your Highness. It is political.” D’Andorre had the grace to lower his head. “The Deputies-?General has dispatched representatives to Emperor Vhalnich to request terms.”
“Terms?” Raesinia blinked. “You’re going to surrender?”
“It seemed to the representatives of the people to be the prudent course, for the good of the Vordanai nation,” d’Andorre said.
“Obviously the situation has changed,” Marcus said. “The Borelgai alliance—”
“Will not be enough,” d’Andorre said. There was real emotion in his voice. “The emperor will be here before aid can arrive. Do you know what will happen if he takes Vordan City by storm?”