WHEN THE TIDE RISES – snippet 9:
"I think she's beautiful," Miranda said softly. "Generally I think Kostroma-built ships look stumpy, but the Sissie's lines are perfect."
"I'm glad you think so, dear," Daniel said, choosing his words carefully.
BY SCHISM RENT ASUNDER – snippet 11:
VI.
Royal Palace,
City of Eraystor,
Princedom of Emerald
Prince Nahrmahn of Emerald was not a happy man.
There were many reasons for that, starting with what had happened to his navy, followed by the fact that he no longer had control even of Eraystor Bay, beyond the reach of the waterfront's defensive batteries. And by the fact that he could hardly expect King Cayleb to overlook his own attempted assassination or the part one Prince Nahrmahn had played in arranging it. Then there was the way in which he and his entire princedom had been forced to become the junior partners — almost the vassals — of Hektor of Corisande under the Group of Four's master plan for the destruction of Charis.
And, of course, there'd been his morning's delightful interview with Bishop Executor Wyllys.
He stood gazing out the palace window at the vast blue expanse of the bay. Emerald's merchant marine had never been very large, compared to that of Charis, or even Corisande, but these days the waterfront wharves were crowded with merchant ships which dared not put to sea, and more of them lay to anchors and buoys further out. The naval yard's anchorages and slips, on the other hand, were virtually empty. Nine galleys — the total surviving strength of Nahrmahn's navy — huddled pathetically together, as if for some sort of mutual comfort.
There were two additional galleys anchored off to one side, and Nahrmahn glowered at the big, twin-masted ships. They were the only prizes the Duke of Black Water's fleet had managed to capture before Haarahld and Cayleb of Charis annihilated his own ships in return. They'd just happened to be here in Eraystor when the hammer came down on Black Water, although Nahrmahn didn't expect any of his erstwhile "allies" to believe in the coincidence which had "fortuitously" left him in possession.
Nahrmahn had gone down to examine the captured ships personally the day they'd arrived. He was no experienced naval officer himself, but even he'd been able to follow the explanations about the peculiar Charisian artillery mountings and the reasons for the new weapons' effectiveness. Not that understanding made him feel any better, especially when he reflected upon the fact that as the geographically closest member of the alliance against Charis, he was virtually certain to be the first recipient of King Cayleb's attention. As, indeed, the seizure of his capital city's outlying island defenses only emphasized.
He turned as the chamber door opened and Ohlsyn Trahvys, the Earl of Pine Hollow, and Commodore Hainz Zhaztro came through it.
Pine Hollow was Nahrmahn's cousin, as well as his first councilor, and one of the relatively few courtiers whose loyalty the prince truly trusted. Zhaztro, on the other hand, was the senior — in fact, the only – Emeraldian squadron commander to have returned from the Battle of Darcos Sound. There were those, Nahrmahn knew, who cherished suspicions about Zhaztro — about his courage, as well as his loyalty — simply because he was the most senior officer to come home again. Nahrmahn himself, somewhat to the surprise of many, did not. The fact that Zhaztro's flagship had suffered over thirty percent casualties and was so badly damaged that she'd gradually settled to the bottom after she'd managed to claw her way back to the naval yard was all the recommendation the commodore had needed as far as Nahrmahn was concerned.
"You wanted to see both of us, My Prince?" Pine Hollow said with a bow, and Nahrmahn nodded.
"Yes," he said with uncharacteristic shortness, and waved for the two of them to join him by the window.
Pine Hollow and Zhaztro obeyed the beckoned command, and the first councilor wondered if the naval officer realized how atypical Nahrmahn's attitude had been for the past several five-days. Unless Pine Hollow was mistaken, his short, round prince was actually losing weight. Some people probably wouldn't have been particularly surprised to find a prince in Nahrmahn's position doing that, but Pine Hollow had known his cousin from childhood, and he couldn't remember anything that had ever managed to put Nahrmahn off his feed. Nor did the prince fit the image of a depressed man sinking listlessly into despair. As a matter of fact, Nahrmahn actually seemed more focused, more energetic, than Pine Hollow had ever before seen him.
"I've just finished entertaining Bishop Executor Wyllys," the prince told his two subordinates as he looked back out the window. "He was here to express his . . . unhappiness over what happened to his dispatch boat yesterday."
Pine Hollow glanced at Zhaztro, but the commodore only gazed calmly and attentively at Nahrmahn. The naval officer's phlegmatic personality was part of what had commended him so strongly to Nahrmahn, the first councilor suspected.
"I explained to His Eminence," Nahrmahn continued, "that this sort of thing happens when someone else's navy is in control of one's home waters. He responded to that by telling me that it had never before happened to one of Mother Church's vessels, a fact of which," he turned to smile thinly at the others, "it may astound you to learn, I was already aware."
Despite himself, Pine Hollow felt his eyes widen at Nahrmahn's desert-dry tone.
"The question I have for you, Commodore," the prince said, "is whether or not there's any way you can think of that we could somehow guarantee the security of future Church dispatch vessels arriving here at Eraystor?"
"Honestly? No, Your Highness," Zhaztro said without hesitation. "Up until yesterday, I would have said there was at least an even chance the Charisians would allow Church-flagged couriers to pass through the blockade unhindered. In fact, I would have said the chances were considerably better than even, frankly." He shrugged very slightly. "Apparently, I would have been wrong. And given their presence here in the bay, and their obvious willingness to risk the Church's anger, I don't see any way we can prevent them from doing exactly the same thing over again any time they want to."
"I see." Nahrmahn's tone was calm, Pine Hollow noted, without even a hint of displeasure at Zhaztro's devastating frankness.
"If I might make a suggestion, Your Highness?" the commodore said after a moment, and Nahrmahn nodded for him to continue.
"Eraystor isn't the only port in Emerald," Zhaztro pointed out. "And Cayleb doesn't begin to have enough ships to shut down every fishing port along our coasts, as we're already demonstrating. There are several places where I feel confident couriers could make a safe landfall and send any dispatches overland to the capital."
"That's exactly what I was thinking myself," Nahrmahn agreed. "In fact, I've already made that suggestion to the Bishop Executor. He didn't seem overly pleased by the prospect." The prince's thin smile showed the tips of his teeth. "I think he feels it comports poorly with the Church's dignity to require her messengers to 'creep around in the shadows like poachers avoiding the bailiff,' as he put it."
Nahrmahn's voice was even drier than before, Pine Hollow noticed, and the first councilor felt a distinct flicker of uneasiness. Nahrmahn's position was grim enough without his openly antagonizing the Church's official representative in Emerald.
And, of course, the position of Emerald's first councilor depended almost entirely upon that of its prince.
"I'm sorry to hear His Eminence feels that way," Zhaztro said politely, and Nahrmahn actually chuckled.
"I'm sure you are, Commodore."
The prince shook his head, then shrugged.
"Well, Commodore, that was really the only question I had for you. I can't say your answer surprises me, but that's certainly not your fault. Would you be so good as to draw up a list of the best alternate landing sites for future Church messengers so that I could get it to the Bishop Executor by tomorrow morning?"
"Of course, Your Highness."
Zhaztro bowed, clearly recognizing his dismissal, and withdrew. Nahrmahn watched the door close behind him, then looked at his cousin.
"I can't say I'm delighted about the attached price tag, Trahvys," he observed almost whimsically, "but at least the reaming Haarahld and Cayleb gave us has brought one worthwhile officer to my attention."
Pine Hollow nodded. Zhaztro's apparent immunity to the gloom, doom, and despair which had sent most of the Emeraldian Navy's surviving senior officers' morale plunging was remarkable. The commodore had to be aware of the near hopelessness of Emerald's position, but instead of dwelling upon it, he was actively seeking ways to strike back at Charis. As he had just finished pointing out, the Royal Charisian Navy lacked sufficient ships to blockade every Emeraldian port, and Zhaztro was busy fitting out light, jury-rigged cruisers as commerce raiders in every harbor with a boatyard. Most of them would be little more than lightly armed, outsized rowing skiffs or hastily converted — and even more lightly armed — merchantmen. Neither type could hope to stand up to any sort of regular man-of-war, even one without the devilish new Charisian artillery, but they could capture and destroy lumbering, lightly armed — or completely unarmed – merchantmen, and commerce raiding was probably the one way in which Emerald could hope to actually hurt — or inconvenience, at least — Charis.
Not that it was going to do any good in the end, of course.
THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN CONNECTION – snippet 10:
Chapter 5. The nature of plans
Near Grantville, State of Thuringia-Franconia
“Fucking idiots, what they are,” pronounced Denise. She finished the beer she’d ordered at Stephan Wurmbrand’s roadside tavern just outside Grantville on the road to Rudolstadt and almost slammed the glass back on the bar. Then, glared around the room, as if defying any of its habituees to challenge either her use of language or her judgment of police chiefs and cavalry officers.
No challenge came forth, except from Lannie Yost, perched on a nearby stool. Owlishly, he peered at her empty glass. “Ain’t you a little young to be drinking that stuff?”
WHEN THE TIDE RISES – snippet 8:
CHAPTER 3: Bergen and Associates Yard, Cinnabar
The office of Bergen and Associates was built over the shops so Daniel was forty feet in the air, looking down onto the Princess Cecile, which floated in the pool as the crew completed her outfitting. Behind him, his sister and the representatives of the Navy Office negotiated the terms of the corvette's lease.
"Now turn to Schedule 3, Depreciation," said Deirdre Leary, sitting at what'd once been Uncle Stacey's desk and now was Lieutenant's Mon's. "You'll note that we've raised the figure by a half of a percent. That's based on actual wastage of spars and rigging during the previous RCN commission, as listed in the appendix. Now you'll note that we've–"
THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN CONNECTION – snippet 9:
Denise was looking a little cross-eyed by now. For that matter, Noelle thought she might be herself.
The fingers started closing back down, one at a time, gracefully despite their heft. “So Lorraine talked to Lauren and she talked to Graham and Graham put in a word with Joe Stull, and I guess Joe must have been having one of his rare off days because he agreed to hire the clown. And that’s how it happened.”
BY SCHISM RENT ASUNDER – snippet 10:
He turned his chair slightly, listening to the creak of its swivel, so that he could gaze out the broad expanse of Destroyer's stern windows at the panoramic, sun-dancing blue mirror of Eraystor Bay. From where he sat, he could see the northern end of the tadpole shape of Long Island, and the sheltered water between Long Island, Callie's Island, and South Island had been turned into a Charisian anchorage once the fortifications on those islands had surrendered to the Marines.
BY SCHISM RENT ASUNDER – snippet 9:
.V.
HMS Destroyer,
Eraystor Bay,
Princedom of Emerald
"Admiral Nylz is here, Sir. Captain Shain is with him."
Admiral Sir Domynyk Staynair, the newly created Baron of Rock Point, looked up from his examination of the double-barreled flintlock pistol as his flag lieutenant, poked his head respectfully through the flag cabin door aboard HMS Destroyer.
WHEN THE TIDES RISES – snippet 7:
Daniel closed the door behind him. The room was long and narrow. There were cabinets for paper files along one sidewall, and a desk–unoccupied at present–beside the door for a clerk. At the far end was another desk, so wide that it only fit the long way.
Captain Britten, built like a fireplug with cropped gray hair, sat at the big desk and typed on a virtual keyboard. He slammed the holographic keys as though he thought he could hammer out the answers he wanted. Daniel smiled; Adele had accused him of doing the same thing.
THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN CONNECTION – snippet 8:
She broke off suddenly, and stared at the wall. Nothing there to look at, just getting an idea.
“What is it?” Eddie asked.
She started scratching her chin again, forgetting her solemn vow to work on her memory so it wouldn’t resemble Swiss cheese. Just what she needed, having people think she was as flighty as an elf.
THE AUSTRO-HUNGARIAN CONNECTION – snippet 7:
Chapter 4. The Biker
Three days later, in the evening, over the sandwiches they were having by way of a working meal on the folding table in Noelle’s apartment, she finally nailed her partner.
“All right, Eddie, spill it. I got the word from Carol Unruh over lunch today. For what it’s worth, she and Tony Adducci and Christoph Wieland officially decided that no charges would be pressed against any down-timer unless they were actively involved as one of the arm-twisters. Just paying the bribes, we’ll let it go. This time, anyway.”
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