Hell's Foundations Quiver

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Book: Read Hell's Foundations Quiver for Free Online
Authors: David Weber
temptation to point out that the Army of Shiloh’s disaster had revealed that unlike the Republic of Siddarmark Army or the Earl of Hanth’s force of Marines and seamen, the Imperial Charisian Army was amply provided with the sort of cavalry—and highly mobile, new model field artillery—needed to work around a fortified position and cut the canal in its rear. Once the forces no doubt pursuing Ahlverez at this very moment reached Evyrtyn, Rychtyr was going to find himself in an even more unenviable position than the rolling disaster which had enveloped the Army of Shiloh. Unless, of course, he had both the wit and the intestinal fortitude to fall back along the Sheryl-Seridahn Canal faster than they could cut it behind him.
    From what he knew of Rychtyr, he certainly had the wit, and he might well have the moral courage. Unfortunately, he might not have it, either. And even if he did, that was the sort of decision which could have fatal consequences. Lywys Gardynyr had had a little personal experience of his own in that regard, and the Inquisition had grown even less patient with faint-heartedness in the service of Mother Church over the last few years.
    â€œSir Rainos always was a bit … heedless, My Lord,” Baiket said. “You might say that runs in the family.”
    Thirsk’s lips quirked in a sour smile at his flag captain’s none too oblique reference to Rainos Ahlverez’s cousin, Sir Faidel Ahlverez, the deceased Duke of Malikai. Malikai had also been a cousin by marriage of Aibram Zaivyair, the Duke of Thorast, who—like Ahlverez—held Thirsk personally responsible for Malikai’s disastrous defeat off Armageddon Reef. It wasn’t hard to follow Baiket’s logic, and the truth was that much as Thirsk regretted what had happened to the Army of Shiloh, he was far from blind to the way in which any damage to Ahlverez’s reputation and standing had to reflect upon the men who’d made themselves his patrons. And anything that weakened Thorast’s grip on the Navy had to be a good thing from Lywys Gardynyr’s perspective.
    â€œI think we can all agree Sir Rainos was … overconfident before he set out for Alyksberg,” he said out loud. “And if I’m going to be honest, I suppose I should admit the thought of his coming a cropper personally doesn’t fill my heart with dismay,” he added with a generous thousand percent understatement. “But I’ve read some of the dispatches he sent home to Duke Fern and Duke Salthar. On that basis, I have to say that however overconfident he may’ve been before Alyksberg, he did his damnedest to prevent most of Duke Harless’ … questionable decisions, shall we say.”
    He decided not to mention the letters he’d received from Shulmyn Rahdgyrz, the Baron of Tymplahr. He hoped his old friend was still alive somewhere out there in the muddy, bloody wilderness of the South March, but according to Tymplahr, Sir Rainos Ahlverez had turned out to be remarkably unlike certain of his kinsmen. He’d actually learned from experience.
    â€œWhatever part Sir Rainos may have played in bringing all this about, what’s happened to his army’s far too serious for me to take any satisfaction from how it may have damaged his reputation,” he went on more soberly. “And not just because of the human cost. He had over half the Army’s total field strength under his command, Stywyrt. That’s probably entirely gone, for all practical purposes. Even if we get some of the regiments back, they’ll have to be completely brought back up to strength, reorganized, and—undoubtedly— reequipped before they can possibly be effective fighting units again. And where do you think they’re going to look for the manpower—and the weapons—for that?”
    Baiket’s blue eyes darkened and he nodded soberly. The Navy had been reduced to a

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