The Chaoswar Saga: A Kingdom Besieged, A Crown Imperilled, Magician’s End. Raymond E. Feist
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up to Sarth, ensuring that help from Yabon would not be forthcoming. The forces on the Far Coast would be insignificant and if brought east through the passes in the Grey Towers, they’d be backed up behind those forces from Yabon halted north of Sarth.
Then Jim stopped. The only part of this that made no sense whatsoever is what Hazara-Khan would do in the South. He did not need to see the Keshian general’s orders and plans to know that every garrison south of the Overn Deep had been marshalled and was now aboard these ships. By conventional logic, hordes of very angry tribesmen should be pouring though the Girdle of Kesh into the lush farmlands of the Southern Empire.
Is this where the Pantathians played a part? he wondered. For something had to convince them to keep the peace without the heel of Kesh’s boot on their necks.
Suddenly Jim was as near panic as he was inclined to get. He had discovered everything possible to discover on this ship, but getting off was problematic. He could use his secret orb to return to his office in Krondor, which was his plan as soon as he knew more. The problem was in learning more. He was anchored near enough off the coast that swimming through the breakers to reach the beach was not a terrible danger. But once on the coast, then what? He would have more than twenty miles on foot before he reached any portion of the bay that would give him any more useful information, or faster transportation, and he would still have no idea what the plan was. There had to be another way.
He moved without thought at the order of the first mate, to start smartening up some lines and cleaning the decks. That meant the captain planned on staying a while. Jim resisted an urge to vent his frustration vocally and instead settled for a repeat of the same thought: there had to be another way.
Two uneventful days went by, which didn’t mean Jim had time to dwell upon his current position; a ship at sea, even one at anchor, required a great deal of attention, and as the Suja was short-handed – as apparently was every other vessel in the fleet – watches were half-day on, half-day off, though the ‘off’ was a matter of definition. After meals on the crew deck, there were sails to mend, ropes to splice, as well as wandering through the guts of the ship with a lantern investigating leaks, and ensuring the storm hadn’t damaged the masts or the keelson. Jim elected to do the hull inspection, hoping to find some cargo or other indication of what this ship’s role was to be, but he was frustrated to the point of madness in discovering the hold was empty. There was cargo on deck, he knew, crates brought aboard by the Pantathians, but they were lashed down under heavy canvas and there was always someone on deck; he stood no chance of being able to investigate the contents.
The third morning, ships began to weigh anchor, the Brijaner longships among the first. Jim took a deep breath to still his impatience; they were the logical first-strike flotilla, as they could outmanoeuvre any Quegan galley in the Bitter Sea, and would most likely run a screen so that heavier Keshian war galleys could come in behind and strike straight for Port Vykor.
More than once Jim itched to grab his teleportation orb and get to Krondor, but he knew he was at the point at which the warning he would bring would be scant days before Kingdom picket ships west of Land’s End caught sight of the foreign sails. A week’s extra preparation would mean little against this onslaught.
Then came the order for the Suja to raise anchor and lower sails. But the trim was for manoeuvring, and the order was to make way towards the city of Caralyan, not head out to sea. Jim got aloft with the top gang and unfurled sails and then got busy trimming them. They were sailing a close reach into a turn that would put a following breeze behind them as the wind was from the south this day, and it would be easy to pick up too much speed if the captain wanted a slow approach. Given the clutter of ships ahead, Jim was certain the captain wanted a very slow, cautious approach. As they neared the harbour, Jim could scarcely believe his eyes, for there were still more than a hundred ships standing off, as cargo barges and small service boats ran back and forth from land; they were not just coming out of the harbour itself, but from along the beaches beyond.
The order was given to drop anchor and reef sails, every man stood to, and the ship came to rest less than a quarter of a mile from a long beach. In the distance he could make out the smudge on the horizon he knew was the city of Caralyan, or at least the smoke from its chimneys. He had never cared for this city, finding it a second-rate port and rarely worth watching, but he had an agent there, anyway.
A longboat came towards the ship, and the first mate shouted orders to get cargo nets ready. Jim manned the boom with two other men and another half a dozen sailors pushed aside the main hatchway, and scrambled below to receive cargo.
The net was lowered and Jim waited on the hoist until the signal was given. He and two other men turned the heavy crank and the winch turned as the net rose into view.
Jim almost let go as a very disturbed-looking cow stared at him. There was another one snug in a sling beside the first, and it was lowing piteously. Jim was no expert on animal husbandry but he had travelled through enough farmland to recognize dairy cattle.
Livestock keeps longer than slaughtered meat, so bringing cattle, sheep or even pigs, which are notoriously hard to herd, along behind an army was not unheard of, especially if good hunting wasn’t anticipated. But dairy cattle?
Then his eyes widened even more as men, women, and children climbed aboard and suddenly Jim understood exactly what was going on. He glanced around to see that everyone else was intent on their job and started gauging when he might get away to his hammock and activate his transport orb; for he now knew exactly what some insane group of Keshian nobles had decided to do.
This wasn’t a mere military adventure. It was more than just an all-out assault on the Western Realm of the Kingdom of the Isles, or even a bid to claim all of the Vale of Dreams after years of border skirmishes.
Before him were men and women from half a dozen dissimilar places: desert people from Dahali-Kapur, swamp-dwellers from the Dragon Mere and E’Ramere, Ashunta horsemen, and Isalani famers, all from the Keshian Confederation.
Kesh wasn’t guarding its borders from the Confederates desperate for better land in the Southern Empire. The Empire was bringing Confederates to the Far Coast and meant to give them Kingdom land.
This wasn’t just another war; it was a wholesale invasion and colonization. They didn’t intend to conquer those lands and rule a fractious population, they were going to displace that population with people who would gratefully obey Imperial law so they could hold on to their new, treasured homes.
Jim glanced around and saw more ships unfurling sails to begin their voyage to the north. Without knowing the exact number of ships he could only estimate, but at the very least the Empire of Great Kesh was bringing over twenty thousand famers, herdsmen, and craftsmen to the Far Coast, roughly three times the entire population of Kingdom citizens. And the majority of fighting-age men had been mustered and were probably now half-way to Krondor. Jim fought the sense of nausea that rose in his gullet.
Jim watched as the last of the ‘cargo’ came aboard. The men among the colonists had moved into like groups, keeping as much distance away from traditional enemies as the confined space below permitted.
He was climbing rigging behind the poop deck when he heard the captain shout, ‘We’re ready. Stand by to weigh anchor!’
Glancing around, Jim saw something over by the next ship that made him pause. As more and more colonists had been boarding the ships, he had considered how Great Kesh was going to seize the Far Coast. It had been a question he could not answer beyond some vague concept of a massive advantage in numbers.
Compared to the Confederacy, the Far Coast was teeming with riches. But it was still sparsely populated after over a hundred and fifty years. Two huge wars in the last hundred years had devastated the Western Realm, and the population had been low to begin with. The only city of any size was Carse, though Crydee was still capital of the Duchy, and those population centres, along with Tulan in the south, were relatively stable, having grown by barely more than a tenth since the invasion of the West by the army of the Emerald Queen.
He could see why Kesh might want to reclaim the Far Coast after all these years; moving a large portion of the population