“Did you know it is Kraelian weapons and Kraelian horses the raiders are using to attack the Goban? Or that the raiders themselves are often Kraelian soldiers disguised to look like Gamir tribesmen?”
That raised an outcry. Judging by the sudden consternation on Erakes’s face, Gilene guessed this information was new and caught him by surprise. “How do you know this to be true?”
“Because I fought alongside and against Pit gladiators who once served in the Kraelian army. Men of high place who fell from favor when they incurred the wrath or displeasure of their commanding officer or a nobleman of more power.” Azarion paced a little in front of Erakes, every step tracked by his enraptured audience. “The Empire is secure in its belief it’s impervious to attack from outside its borders. They don’t bother with secrets, and these men were free with their knowledge while they trained or waited to fight in the arena.
“We all know there are four Kraelian garrisons perched alongside the Serpent, each about nine leagues from the base of the Gamir Mountains on the other side of Goban lands. Three are manned by battalions, the fourth—the largest—by a legion. Together, they can march as many as eight thousand men across those mountains and onto Goban territory. They haven’t done it yet because it’s too easy to pick them off in the narrow passes.”
Erakes waved a hand, unconcerned. “But for what purpose? The Goban are numerous enough to hold their territory if the Kraelians try such a thing, and the Empire won’t empty out its garrisons just to conquer farmers and their crops.”
“No, but they’ll do it to stop a people who can field an infantry, and they’ll take control of the iron the Goban bring out of their mines. They’ll do it if it means they can conquer Savatar land without breaking the Veil.”
An expectant hush settled even deeper onto the qara as Azarion continued. “The Krael Empire is long-lived because it’s long-thinking. It devours its neighbors by slow degrees instead of immediate attack. It’s the predator that waits in the cave, the spider at the center of the web. Ever patient, never merciful.” Gilene shivered at the picture his words created. “The Empire puts it about that its garrisons protect the traders who travel the Serpent from the bandits who plague the route. The traders know these bandits are Kraelian soldiers who rob to line their pockets and fill the garrison coffers.”
Another ataman spoke up. “If that’s so, why don’t the caravans quit traveling the trade road?”
“Because what they lose in these robberies can be made up elsewhere in profit. To abandon the Serpent altogether would see them exiled from the Trade Guild, also controlled by the Empire, and their riches dwindled to the scrapings left by the established free traders.”
“What would you have the Savatar do?” Erakes motioned to a nearby servant for a refill of his tea.
“The Empire won’t stop with four garrisons. They’ll build four more and four more after that and the roads to reach every one of them. While the Gamir raiders destroy Goban crops and hold the mines, the Goban people will fight them and starve while doing it, far too busy staying alive to worry about a Kraelian garrison with a legion of soldiers being built right under their noses. Once the Empire gets a foothold in the mountains, we will be at war, and we will lose.” Azarion’s tone sharpened even more. “They outnumber us ten to one and can field both infantry and cavalry in great numbers. All they’ll need is a foothold and time, and the Sky Below will fall to the Empire from the east just like the plains of the Nunari fell in the west.”
The silence hung heavy as every person in the qara held their breath and he waited for Erakes’s response. Erakes stared at Azarion a long time, and Azarion stared back. Gilene wondered who might blink first.
Erakes didn’t blink, but he did speak. “What do you propose?”
A collective sigh ran through the qara as everyone exhaled and exchanged low-voiced commentary between them. Azarion didn’t relax his guard. He could claim victory for the first part of his bid in convincing the most powerful Savatar clan that his concerns were worthy. The more difficult part remained: convincing them that attacking the Empire first was not the plan of a madman.
“We sack Kraelag,” he replied.
Outraged shouts joined disbelieving laughter, but he remained stoic in the face of ridicule, his gaze never moving from Erakes, who didn’t join in the mockery. Instead, the ataman waited until the noise subsided before speaking, a glower darkening his face. “You, more than any of us, should understand what a foolhardy thing that would be to do. You’re neither an idiot nor mad, Azarion Ataman. This much I know; so why suggest something that would only result in the senseless deaths of thousands of Savatar?”
Gilene had asked him the exact same thing.
Kraelag was a fortified city with thick walls supported by watchtowers, ramparts, and deep ditches. The standing army defending it numbered in the thousands and could be called forth in a matter of hours if needed.
She’d seen the massive catapults waiting between the curtain walls, their munitions of giant stones and the architectural wreckage of old ruins piled into heaps beside them, waiting to be hurled onto an invading force. The Savatar were a nation of horse soldiers versed in cavalry tactics. Sacking Kraelag required siege warfare.
“Because we want the Empire to think its capital is besieged. They will call up not only their closest legions but also those from the garrisons that ride the Golden Serpent.”
Erakes’s eyes narrowed, and now he stood to pace, one hand stroking his beard in thought. “They’ll leave the garrisons manned by only a few.” His eyes gleamed in the dim lighting. “Vulnerable. Easy to destroy.”
Azarion nodded. “Yes. We split the confederation forces. Half to ride to Kraelag from the west. We’ll have to cross the plains and possibly fight the Nunari along the way.”
“Or gain them as allies. They’ve never rested easy under the Empire’s yoke,” Erakes said.
“Hope for the best but prepare for the worst. Just as the Kraelians are greater in number than we are, the Savatar are greater in number than the Nunari. That they won’t expect our incursion into their territories will also work in our favor.”
A wolfish grin replaced Erakes’s glower. “While the Empire panics and sends more of its soldiers to defend the capital, our eastern forces join with the Goban to sack the closest garrisons and take control of those stretches of the Serpent.”
The blood raced through Gilene’s veins as she listened to the two men flesh out the plan Azarion had hatched while he waited for the Fire Council to proclaim her an agacin. No wonder he had been so patient all that time. He had planned this strategy in detail, prepared to argue for its validity. The moment he was made ataman, he’d taken action.
Their battle plans roused her excitement. Anything that cut a wound in the Empire’s hide made her smile, but she also knew that the course Azarion wanted the Savatar to take meant a path of no return and open war with the mightiest, cruelest empire that ever controlled the world known to men.