The Burning God (The Poppy War #3) - R.F. Kuang Page 0,186

down the river with a sole helmsman whose job was to keep it from crashing onto the bank. They’d chosen a wide, fast-moving stretch of water, with a current quick enough to pull the skimmer out of Republican range before anyone tried to board it.

“Gross.” Rin wiped her hand on her tunic as she watched the skimmer drift out of view. “This smell isn’t coming out for days, is it?”

“Just as well,” Kitay said. “We still have to cut the bullets out.”

When at last they neared the southern border of Hare Province, they found a messenger waiting with a letter from Venka. She and Cholang had been sending regular updates throughout the campaign. They’d swept through the north easily enough, as predicted. They hadn’t had much to do; Nezha seemed to have pulled his troops in from the east and north alike, concentrating them in a last stand in Dragon Province. So far Venka’s missives had involved happy updates of townships captured, shipments of historical artifacts she’d looted in magistrates’ estates, and the occasional crate of armor from Tiger Province’s famed blacksmiths.

As both divisions of the Southern Army moved closer to the center, Venka’s correspondence had come back faster and faster. Now Venka and Cholang were merely a week’s ride away—close enough to converge on Arlong in a joint attack.

“This is from six days ago.” The messenger handed Rin the scroll. “She wants a quick response.”

“Understood,” Rin said. “Wait outside.”

The messenger gave a curt nod and left the command tent. Rin checked that he was out of hearing range, then ripped the scroll open with her teeth.

Change of plans. Don’t move yet on Arlong—my scouts say he’s taking forces north to meet us between the mountains. Rendezvous at Dragab? Please confirm as soon you can; we’d rather not walk alone into a massacre.

“Dragab?” Rin asked. “Where’s that?”

“Little outpost south of Xuzhou.” Kitay had been reading over her shoulder. “And Xuzhou is, I assume, where the Republic intends to meet us.”

“But that’s . . .” Rin trailed off, trying to work through her mental map of Southern and Republican troop placements. This didn’t track. All this time they had assumed Nezha would keep his forces in Arlong city proper, where the Red Cliffs and canals offered him the clearest advantage. “Why would he push north?”

“I can guess three reasons,” Kitay said. “One, Xuzhou’s situated over a narrow mountain channel, which restricts the fighting terrain to the opposite cliffsides and the wide ravine beneath. Two, it’s monsoon season, and the water locks into the pass when the rains get heavy. And three, it’s on our only route to Arlong.”

“That’s not true,” she said. “We could cut around it, there are forest passes—”

“Yes, with roads so bumpy we won’t be able to move any of our heavy artillery, and then we’ll still have to scale down mountain faces that leave us wide open for their archers. Nezha knows we’re coming through for him. He intends to choke us off in the mountains, where your shamans can’t strike with discrimination, which forces the battle into a conventional bloodbath.”

“So this isn’t some last, desperate feint,” Rin said. “It’s an invitation.”

Then why on earth should the Southern Army accept?

Even as the question rose to her lips, the answer became obvious. They should take Xuzhou as their next battleground, purely because it wasn’t Arlong.

Nezha’s power amplified the closer he was to sources of water. Under the Red Cliffs, where the Murui filtered into canals that surrounded every inch of Arlong, he’d be nearly unstoppable. He’d be right on top of the Dragon’s grotto. Xuzhou was their last, and best, chance to fight him while separating him from his god.

Rin saw the grim press of Kitay’s mouth, and knew that he’d realized the same. Xuzhou might be Nezha’s dominant strategy, but it was theirs, too.

He nodded to the scroll. “Shall we give him what he wants?”

Rin hated that phrasing. This choice was frustrating. Unanticipated. She didn’t like meeting their opponent on a terrain of his choosing, under the least favorable strategic conditions possible.

And yet, deep in her gut, she felt a hot coil of excitement.

Until now, this had not been a true war, only a series of skirmishes against cowards in retreat. Every win so far had meant nothing except as instrumental fuel for this moment, when at last they’d meet true resistance. This was the final test. Rin wanted to go up against Nezha’s best-prepared strategy and see who came out on top.

“Why not?” she said at