Mitchell Smith - Kingdom River

There was a small stove in a distant corner, with a small fire in it, and the thick, blurred glass of four arrow-slits down the room had been opened just enough for a steady, bitter little breeze to enter, and fans of powder snow.

Introductions had been made. Sam had noticed few friendly glances.

His chair had diagnosed his bad back at once, and was making it worse.

Only the Queen, bundled in lynx and wolverine, with her ax-girl standing behind her, sat in comfort on a minor throne plumped with pillows. Her daughter sat to her right, then Brady, the chamberlain. Then Generals Parker, DeVane, Lenihan – and Bailey, just arrived, his greenwool uniform as food-stained as his chamber-robe had been… Then Sam, at the foot, and on around to two admirals, Hopkins and Pearce, wearing storm-gray – both exactly the ocean whales Bailey had described, so Sam had had to be careful not to grin when introduced. Then, sitting side by side, though with careful space kept between them, Lords Sayre and Cooper. Cooper, almost elderly, and just returned to Island from up-river, sat tall, thin, and slightly bent in gray velvet and gray fur – looking, Sam thought, like a friendly grandfather, though perhaps a grandfather very close with money.

The last person around the table, sitting to the Queen's left, was a moneyman, Harvey Sloan, treasurer, looking more of a tavern tough than a book-keeper.

Each of these men had brought an officer or aide, and those – holding folios of fine paper, ink bottles, and steel-nib pens in narrow boxes – sat in more of the uncomfortable chairs, behind their principals and well back from the table. Margaret Mosten sat behind Sam, and Pedro Darry tended the cloakroom by the chamber entrance – though, since the room was near freezing, no coats or cloaks had been handed over.

Harvey Sloan had just spoken for peace – for discussions toward it, at least, with payments of silver promised for the Khan's withdrawal.

"Harvey," the Queen said, "the Khan Toghrul is not some nose-ringed savage down off the ice at Map-Illinois. We won't buy him with beads or banjars or silver pieces."

"How does it harm us, Majesty, to try? He can only say no. And if he should say yes, we have bought a year or more to become stronger."

"Harvey, for Jesus' sake use your head for more than a fucking abacus! He would say no, because he doesn't want us to have a year to grow stronger!"

"Sloan," General DeVane. "Sloan, this is not a money matter."

"Well, it will swiftly become so, General! Wars are fought with money as well as soldiers, and the financial affairs of the Kingdom remain uncertain, since I'm not allowed a central bank – which we sorely need to regulate the currency. Warm-times had one, I understand, and so should we! And also, land taxes have been in arrears four years running. So, how is this war to be paid for?"

The chamberlain, Brady, called across the table, softly as he could and be heard, "We also still have a treasury surplus – or am I mistaken?"

"If there's a time to spend," Sam said, speaking up, "it's when a knife is at your throat."

"Oh, understood, milord." The treasurer smiled. "But perhaps in your… realm, barter still holds a place. In Middle Kingdom, it's cold cash, silver or gold."

"And mostly in mine, as well." Sam smiled back. "Though sheep and stock are occasionally traded… When our Charles Ketch posed the same question to me that you bring to the table, Treasurer, I told him what I now tell you: Spend the fucking money. And if more is needed later, the Emperor will provide it."

"The Emperor?" General DeVane again. The general, slightly fat, was an amiable-looking man, except for his eyes. They were dead black as dug coal-rock. "Now why should Rosario e Vega send any treasure to your people, or ours?"

"Because, General, once we win this war he will either send us gold and silver, if we need it, or we will go down to South Map-Mexico and ask again."

Both admirals said, "Piracy!" speaking almost together, and seemed pleased with the notion.

DeVane said nothing, only stared at Sam a moment, then nodded. Pedro had mentioned that the DeVanes of Baton Rouge still ate talking meat at festivals…

"Well," Sloan said, "that may be, then. This is now."

"Harvey," the Queen said, "shut up."

As if a voice in his head had said, "Keep Harvey Sloan," Sam determined to do it, whenever that choice was his. A Charles Ketch, but tougher, slower to back off where income and outgo were concerned.

"Monroe…" General Parker, uniformed in blue wool, was a strikingly handsome man, tall, with clear blue eyes and perfectly graying hair perfectly trimmed. "Monroe, I confess to some puzzlement why you, rather than Her Majesty, called this meeting, for which senior officers were threatened with arrest for non-attendance. I'm curious where you found the authority for that – and why now you're in council on matters concerning Middle Kingdom, particularly since no announcement has been made appointing you to command of anything."

"I'll make that announcement, General." Princess Rachel spoke quietly, and did not look at Sam. "Lord Monroe and I have agreed on an engagement to marriage. Also, he has my mother's warrant to pursue this war as commander, whenever his own forces are involved."

"Which," the Queen said, "will be in every important decision. If I thought, Parker, this occasionally annoying young man was a fool, he would already be on his way down-river with my foot up his ass."

Sam saw Rachel begin to smile, then stop. She said, "Are matters now clear to you, General?"

"Absolutely clear, Highness." He turned to Sam with a slight bow. "Milord."

"Generals," Sam said, "Admirals and Lords, Chamberlain, Master Sloan – I'm well aware it can't be comfortable to have a stranger come up from the south and stick his nose into what was only your business. I do it for two reasons. First, what happens to Middle Kingdom in this war will determine what happens to North Map-Mexico. And second, I have found no one better qualified for the work. I am, if you'll permit me, not 'Extraordinary' in anything but battle. There, though no Toghrul Khan, I am very competent."

"And better be." General Bailey shifted in his seat. "Joan, these damn chairs…"

"Want a cushion?" The Queen seemed concerned. "You being so old and frail."

"I see you have cushions…"

"Peter, I'm the Queen. Of course I have cushions. Now, do you have anything to contribute here beyond complaints about your backside?"

"What I have to contribute, is congratulations to our young commander on the performance of his army, since he is apparently too modest to announce it. Word, likely from creek fishermen out of Map-El Dorado, was pigeoned from one of Her Majesty's ships off Greenville, and received here a little more than a glass-hour ago. It appears his man, Voss, has brought their cavalry divisions east to join North Mexico's army near Bossier City. That force is moving north as we speak, and will soon be within striking distance of the Khan's only lines of supply and reinforcement."

"Good news," DeVane said, "if it's followed by more good news."

"My army will be where it's supposed to be – and without delay," Sam said. "Losing St. Louis leaves us little time."

"You have great confidence in your people." The smaller admiral, Hopkins, had lost the tip of his nose in some engagement.

"I have the same, Admiral, that you must have in your veteran captains. But my army can only threaten from the south, until both the Fleet and East-bank army are on the ice below St. Louis… Then, as the Kipchaks face a fresh force attacking in the north, across the river, so they will also face an advance severing their lines of supply in the south. The Khan will have to divide his army and fight both of us at once, unless he chooses an harassed retreat of almost a thousand Warm-time miles to West Map-Texas… likely never to return."