The Dragon Republic (The Poppy War #2) - R. F. Kuang Page 0,130

an hour.” Jinzha pointed to Kitay. “You get to my office. Admiral Molkoi will give you full access to scout reports. I want attack plans by the end of the day.”

“Oh, joy,” Kitay said.

“What’s that?”

Kitay sat up straight. “Yes, sir.”

Jinzha stormed out of the room. Nezha lingered by the doorway, eyes darting between Rin and Kitay as if unsure of whether he wanted to stay.

“Your brother’s losing it,” Rin informed him.

“Shut up,” he said.

“I’ve seen this before,” she said. “Commanders break under pressure all the time. Then they make shitty decisions that get people killed.”

Nezha sneered at her, and for an instant he looked identical to Jinzha. “My brother is not Altan.”

“You sure about that?”

“Say whatever you want,” he said. “At least we’re not Speerly trash.”

She was so shocked that she couldn’t think of a good response. Nezha stalked out and slammed the door shut behind him.

Kitay whistled under his breath. “Lovers’ spat, you two?”

Rin’s face suddenly felt terribly hot. She sat down beside Kitay and busied herself by pretending to fiddle with the cow intestine. “Something like that.”

“If it helps, I don’t think you’re Speerly trash,” he said.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Let me know if you do.” Kitay shrugged. “Incidentally, you could try being more careful about how you talk to Jinzha.”

She made a face. “Oh, I’m aware.”

“Are you? Or do you like not having a seat at the table?”

“Kitay . . .”

“You’re a Sinegard-trained shaman. You shouldn’t be a foot soldier; it’s below you.”

She was tired of having that argument. She changed the subject. “Do we really have a chance at taking Boyang?”

“If we work the paddle wheels to death. If the Imperial Fleet is as weak as our most optimistic estimates say.” Kitay sighed. “If the heaven and the stars and the sun line up for us and we’re blessed by every god in that Pantheon of yours.”

“So, no.”

“I honestly don’t know. There are too many moving pieces. We don’t know how strong the fleet is. We don’t know their naval tactics. We’ve probably got superior naval talent, but they’ll have been there longer. They’ll know the lake terrain. They had time to booby-trap the rivers. They’ll have a plan for us.”

Rin searched the map, looking for any possible way out. “Then do we retreat?”

“It’s too late for that now,” Kitay said. “Jinzha’s right about one thing: we don’t have any other options. We don’t have supplies to last out the winter, and chances are if we escape back to Arlong, then we’ll lose all the progress we’ve made—”

“What, we can’t just hunker down in Ram Province for a few months? Have Arlong ship up some supplies?”

“And give Daji the entire winter to build a fleet? We’ve gotten this far because the Empire has never had a great navy. Daji has the men, but we have the ships. That’s the only reason we’re at parity. If Daji gets three months’ leeway, then this is all over.”

“Some Hesperian warships would be great right around now,” Rin muttered.

“And that’s the root of it all.” Kitay gave her a wry look. “Jinzha’s being an ass, but I think I understand him. He can’t afford to look weak, not with Tarcquet sitting there judging his every move. He’s got to be bold. Be the brilliant leader his father promised. And we’ll blaze forward right with him, because we simply have no other option.”

“How many of you can swim?” Jinzha asked.

Prisoners stood miserably in line on the slippery deck, heads bent as rain poured down on them in relentless sheets. Jinzha paced up and down the deck, and the prisoners flinched every time he stopped in front of them. “Show of hands. Who can swim?”

The prisoners glanced nervously at one another, no doubt wondering which response would keep them alive. No hands went up.

“Let me put it this way.” Jinzha crossed his arms. “We don’t have the rations to feed everyone. No matter what, some of you are going to end up at the bottom of the Murui. It’s only a question of whether you want to starve to death. So raise your hand if you’ll be useful.”

Every hand shot up.

Jinzha turned to Admiral Molkoi. “Throw them all overboard.”

The men started screaming in protest. Rin thought for a second that Molkoi might actually comply, and that they would have to watch the prisoners clawing over each other in the water in a desperate bid to survive, but then she realized that Jinzha didn’t really intend to execute them.

He was watching