Chapter 61: Exodus Again

The Council for the Defence of Halamshiral voted to abandon the city by a vote of twelve to one.

In doing so, they struck yet another blow to the loyalist forces loyal to Celene. Thanks to our operations, the Empress had lost a key ally, Lady Seryl, who died of her wounds two days after our assault. Celene had also lost an army. She had lost two cities, one to conquest and another to abandonment, one of which was her winter capital and the other of which was the main trade port on the Waking Sea. She had lost another two squadrons of her navy, though this did not alter the balance of power as Gaspard had essentially no naval assets.

Before our attack, Celene had an overwhelming advantage in the material means of waging war. Most of her vassals had remained loyal, and when Gaspard's attempt to defeat her below the walls of Halamshiral had failed to produce an immediate result, some of those that pledged secretly to him then went over to Celene. Gaspard was kept in the game only by the experience and brilliance of himself and his officers, their skill allowing his armies to defeat larger loyalist forces seemingly with ease. Now, with Celene taking political and economic hits, and with an entire army off the board, the next year looked like a stalemate.

The single dissenting vote was the Grand-Cleric Marcelline of the Eastern Crownlands, whom had declared her intention to stay to attend to the needs of those that would be left behind and felt that the retreat of all military forces in the area would invite banditry and other malaise. She would stay behind with what few templars remained in her service.

Briala and Lord Clouet thought more or less the same thing too, and a few days later, pledged mounted troops and guerrillas to the cause of keeping the roads safe for travellers, as far as possible.

Such a measure was going to be needed. The hundred and fifty thousand souls that had been sheltering inside Halamshiral, besieged twice during the previous six months, were eager to leave. The enthusiasm of those that had lived outside the walls before the crisis of the previous year wasn't a surprise to me, their homes had already been worked over by the roving armies in the area. I was far more shocked to find the original inhabitants packing up with all evidence of hurrying.

Elves, who dominated the city both in population and in terms of who lived where, pulled carts and makeshift sleds full of their possessions alongside the mounted merchants, guarding their more ornate carriages. It was quite a task to keep order in doing this, but I had Soprano to handle it and le Carré to smooth over things. The arguing throngs did make me wonder at their motivations. Safety, obviously, was their first concern, universally. Beyond that though, I saw Velarana's scheming at work.

Our High Chancellor wanted a culturally Orlesian state, and openly said so. That wasn't objectionable to most, if any, of those coming along with us. But the unspoken part was; culturally Orlesian, sure, but a population that was majority elvhen. This wasn't a problem for me, the elves had no state of their own and the law guaranteed equality. I also trusted the elves to keep the law, to learn the lessons of history. The human merchants on the other hand... they could abandon the project at the drop of a hat if it became too obvious that there was a bias.

Naturally, Julie found the whole thing objectionable. She wanted to build the state as quickly as possible, which to her meant opening citizenship to anyone willing to take the oath of allegiance and fight for the Republic. It wasn't to be, so she accepted the loss with good grace and ingratiated herself with those that Velarana had deemed acceptable to join us. Lucky for us that she did. Others were not so eager to live as neighbours with the first elven majority state since the Conquest of the Dales.

Not only elves were permitted however, just to be clear. Louise de Villars and Aoife the Avvar rode off to their respective motherlands two days after we had seized the Winter Palace for the second time; Louse to the Grandes-Collines, Aoife to the Frostbacks. Louise to bring her own vassals directly to Troy, Aoife to recruit more people for the Highlander regiments. The latter happened at my insistence. The Avvars' ferocity and loyalty was something I valued and continue to value highly, and unlike the Chancellor, I saw wars aplenty on the horizon.

In short, as the great procession of people left Halamshiral and began their journey eastwards on the Imperial Highway, they were to be the first of nearly two million that would move, almost all of whom would end up in Valhalla eventually. From that spring of 9:40 until Fen'Harel's actions in 9:44 in particular, saw more than 250,000 a year up sticks and move out. Nearly seven hundred, a whole new village, a day. We would be establishing new towns for the next decade, to properly distribute the population. The processing staff of the soon-to-be-established Department of the Homeland was soon as big as the administrative wing of the Army, and it was managed with the same level of discipline.

The journey to Jader was slow, as can be expected when travelling with huge numbers of civilians. Unlike our exile from Hearth, which was slow enough, the great bulk of people were not soldiers. We could not expect the same effort as we might have of our ranks, and we couldn't press the matter by either force of example or numbers.

Nor was Halamshiral as well equipped to move its population as Hearth had been; all the wagons and carts of the Free Army had been available to us then, as well as those of the surrounding farms.

So no great wagon train to Jader. It took us a week to get everything packed up, including the contents of the Winter Palace sent through the eluvians, and another two weeks to reach the city of Jader itself. The Valo-Kas in front of the column, to scare anyone who might resist us on the road. The Rangers in among the civilians, to protect them from those that had smartly waited until the vanguard had passed. And Lord Clouet's army in the rear, until we passed the Gap of Jader and into the Val Vert itself, at which point he kept his forces behind to guard the way.

In the mean time, there were political developments, which I was able to keep an ear on thanks to the eluvian we were bringing with us. Naturally, the news that a hundred and fifty thousand could be joining the Trojan project began to speed along the political and economic process.

Decisions on various matters were being made by the National Assembly at breakneck speed, if only because the new citizens would soon have voting rights and there was concern that they would not be as Libertarian as might be liked even by the Aequitarians.

Some of these were purely aesthetic, yet not to be underestimated in importance. Of these, the flag is probably the most memorable for me. The flag of Free Orlais, an open copy of the original Stars and Stripes, was deemed not suitable to be the flag of Troy. Not least because Free Orlais now lived again, and the Assembly was no longer its government.

Julie proposed the alternative and Velarana accepted, to my great chagrin; a tricolour of the blue of Orlais, the snowy-white of the Avvars and the crimson red of the Tiberian dynasty, with Orlais' blue in the position of highest honour, primus inter pares.

I was making jokes about cheese-eating surrender monkeys for weeks afterwards, but the proposal as passed didn't actually state whether it was a horizontal or vertical tricolour, and I seized my chance. The Army has flown our national flag as a horizontal tricolour ever since, Orlesian blue in the top third, despite literally every other state institution of the Republic flying it the opposite way.

Both Velarana and Julie clearly wanted to invite the comparison with France on Earth, the former more interested in the French Empire and the latter with the French revolutionary republic. Furthermore, France was a sister republic to the United States, just as Troy was intended to be one to the reborn Free Orlais.

They went a step further in this direction and adopted La Marseillaise as our national anthem the next day, entitled as 'Chant de guerre des Libres'. The War Song of the Free.

Aesthetics aside, they did decide on something of far more important; who could be a citizen. Velarana's fingerprints were on every single category, but Julie's were too in the exceptions to the rules that had allowed the proposal to pass without opposition.

To quote the relevant articles of our Constitution as they then stood:

Any person born in the Eastern Dales, any member of an Avvar tribe pledged to military service with the Republic (adoptive or natural), or any former vassal of the Tiberian dynasty of the Tevinter Imperium formally released from service after the date of the wedding of Aurelia Tiberia Valentina until such a time as the National Assembly decides to end this privilege.

Resident in Valhalla or the Val Vert of Jader or territories lawfully occupied by the Republic, or participant in military action outside those places on behalf of the Republic.

Willing to take up arms and serve as part of the Army or Navy of the Republic, according to their ability to do so, or an adult dependent of one so willing.

Speakers of the Orlesian language, or serving military personnel in the process of learning the Orlesian language

Far, far more strict than I would have liked, but the High Chancellor had her reading of Earth's history and her own world's to look at. She had come to her conclusions. We had ours.

Velarana wanted a nation-state, a state for a people of common cultural heritage. And not only that. Troy was to closely fit the old moniker about Prussia back on Earth: Not a country in possession of an army, but an army in possession of a country.

The importance of military service, the levée en masse, is perhaps detached from the experience of my Earthling readership, or might even seem a drastic overreach. All I can say about that, even as I found it restrictive myself, is that the Chancellor foresaw the threats that a democratic, majority-elvhen, technologically advanced society would face from outside. Even as she refused to believe that we should or could take the offensive against those same threats.

More people believed in her ideal with regard to their identity than believed in ours. A common language and heritage was viewed as essential; in this we had a sort of chain of such things. The Avvars and the 'Dalish' origin citizens had the common history of the March through Ferelden to call upon, and the equal contempt paid to them by 'civilised' elites. The former slaves of my Tevinter wife had shared ethnic history with the bulk of our 'Dalish' majority, the latter being overwhelmingly elvhen or elf-blooded. The Avvars and Vinters were both minorities within our societies, and both joined us as the result of what you might call divine destiny.

For outsiders without any of this shared experience to integrate would have been very difficult, but not impossible in my opinion. The idea of global citizenship was a long way off, and still is. The citizenship section remains relatively unchanged in its spirit and substance. The most controversial part of it today remains the fact that the children of citizens are not automatically citizens themselves, and only become so upon beginning their military service.

As I write, the campaign for the introduction of a civilian alternative service has built up a lot of steam, and a constitutional referendum is likely to be put forward by the Assembly inside the year.

My attempts to open it up to all those willing to pledge loyalty have been in vain, to my great regret. Troy was not to be another America, or how America was supposed to have been. My memories of my native country sometimes take on an idealistic sheen, so far removed have I become from it, but I refuse to believe that the willingness to adopt others as our own was a weakness. Insofar as that willingness existed.

To get back to the topic at hand, a celebration of what we had accomplished since arriving in Valhalla was an absolute must politically. That celebration was quite the event for a number of reasons, but it would be remiss of me to discuss what happened without first discussing the other major international development of the era. The trigger for it all. The news of which reached us just as we got into Jader itself.

The Rangers Brigade marched through the south gate of the city at the end of the first week of April, past the walls made of the same greenish hued stone that surrounded the Val Vert on every side except for the deep blue of the sea beyond.

The city was a small one; twenty thousand inhabitants or so, not large enough even to house the Army. It was entirely unlike Halamshiral or Amaranthine in style. There were no great thoroughfares, or grid-plan streets.

The buildings were mostly made of wood and plaster, overhanging winding streets, although the shops and civic buildings were excellently made out in greenstone. The streets were clean; this was still an Orlesian city, it had a sewer system and public servants keeping the main spaces clear of rubbish. Yet everywhere, there were telltale signs of battle or riot. Burnt sections of building, half finished houses in construction sites. The battle for the city the previous summer had not entirely disappeared.

The sun split the skies through broken clouds, which meant we had a pleasant warmth with an equally pleasant breeze to greet us. Naturally, the crowds that came out to see us were larger thanks to the conditions and they were jubilant. Lady Seryl's response to the growing revolutionary movement the year before had revealed exactly what sort of a ruler she was. They were glad to be rid of her.

Not least the elves of the alienage, who roared at our passage until their throats hurt. The Rangers, whom were marching past firelances shouldered and bayonets fixed in parade order, were almost all elves too. The mere sight of three thousand armed and drilled elvhen was enough to cause literal shivers of hope run up the backs and legs of those cheering. Some dropped to their knees, crying with joy. Hope is a powerful force.

Needless to say, I hung back and let Soprano take the salute at that moment. She looked like you would expect, heart bursting with pride at the liberation. She was their hero, not I. If anyone embodies the dream that is Troy, Lydia 'Soprano' Moreau is probably the one.

Still, to most of Jader, Fisher was the hero of the hour and the Navy was the institution covered with glory.

The man that had wrested control of Jader from its oppressors and placed it in the hands of its people for the first time in history, only the figleaf of Lord Clouet to cover the fact that its government was now Libertarian in nature; a city free for all, not just the few.

We were to meet with Fisher and the High Chancellor at the docks, for the flag raising ceremony. The first time the new flag would be raised, in fact. Getting there was no small feat. It seems the Navy hadn't bothered to put any of their people ashore to keep order in the town, simply relying on the tiny number of magistrates that ordinarily did that job. There weren't anywhere near enough of them to keep the crowds out of our way.

It simply never occurred to the Navy that it would be their responsibility, or occurred to Fisher that his hometown would need it. The Navy wasn't yet anything like as professional in its ethos and instinct as the Army was. But the Army had me, which gives it somewhat of an unfair advantage.

We finally cleared the dockland warehouses, a district about as large as the one in Amaranthine, and out onto the docks. Huge piers made of dark wood extended out into the deep blue sea, framed by the lighter shades of the sky. The harbour was an artificial one; two great arms of rock and soil extended out to hug the space, studded with statues of the emperor who built them and other Orlesian heroes. At the entrance, two lighthouses rose up, sheathed in marble and accompanied by golden lions.

Inside, at the piers, sat the High Seas Fleet of the Trojan Republic. The flagship Océane was drawn up at the harbourfront itself, its three masts poking up into the blue sky, as if trying to pierce it. Its Marines were drawn up in parade ranks alongside it, facing the town. The Rangers filed in to stand the other way, as if out to sea, although there were considerably more and it took a while.

In the mean time, Soprano and I looked at the ship, as Fisher and Velarana looked back at us from the deck, as the sailors scrambled to lower the gangplank.

Velarana kept up her usual mage robes, with the hood up to protect her head from the breeze coming onshore. Fisher was in the new Navy fatigues, common sailor's garb but exclusively in a plain blue colour that was neither dark nor light. His marines didn't have them, they were due to get their own version at some point but had to make do with the Army green until then. The Wycome textile merchants that the government commissioned to make them were making decent bucks from us for that little project alone.

It was a moment of strange menace. The two major political forces of the state in common cause, both knowing that they would try to exploit the day's glory for future gains. It was something which the General could not help but comment on.

"She thinks this is her triumph," Soprano said to me, gesticulating, "Real funny."

The good General's opinion of her fellow she-elf's character notwithstanding, it was not a real underestimation of the Chancellor.

"She's won the Jaderites, maybe forever," I warned before moving to agree, "But Julie got to the Halamshiral people first. And there's far more of them."

"So it's still a competition," Soprano sighed, "For the votes of everyone else who's coming."

"We're in better shape out of this, actually. I'm fairly sure we'll get the Avvar vote, and Blondie's people," I replied more cheerily, before correcting myself, "Oh, I'm sorry. The Libertarians will. Slip of the tongue."

Soprano grinned viciously. "With your permission, my lord," she began, "I would like to make a contingency plan."

I cocked up an eyebrow. "For what?" I asked.

"Should the Aequitarians decide that democracy is too much of a burden," the general replied, as if she was talking about the weather and not a coup d'état, "Or if they put the Republic in danger by refusing to act when the danger is immediate."

My natural revulsion towards this proposal was immediate, my stomach feeling like the bottom had fallen out of it. The damned state was mere months old, and already there was talk of military rule among its generals. The early years are always the most dangerous for that sort of thing. How fragile a republic is, I thought, before the cold, Machiavellian side of my brain kicked in its two cents.

Velarana really wanted to avoid war. Perhaps too badly. Only time would tell if she would be a Chamberlain to Julie's Churchill, in the face of so many Hitlers and Tojos. I refer you to An Incomplete History of Earth to explain what I mean by that, particularly as the 20th Century is the most complete, for good reason. As such, I bit down the obvious rejection that my first instinct had provoked in me and laid down the gauntlet.

"You've been waiting to ask this for a long time," I thought aloud, before turning to the general, "Haven't you?"

"Yes, my lord," Soprano said, without looking at me, "I don't trust people whose job it is to spend our taxes. Even elected ones."

Likely because they had traditionally been concerned with bothering her, prior to our little revolution. The necessity existed regardless of her prejudices, I thought, so I decided to allow it.

"General, you have my permission," I said, with as much authority as I could muster, "But let me be clear. If your contingency plan becomes necessary, it will not be the case of us putting the Marquise in power. Or Maker forbid, me. Officially, it's for the purpose of deterring public unrest. Anything put to paper will read as such. Unofficially, it's the military veto. Either the Chancellor will accede to our demands of the day or there will be an election. The Army is for the people, we cannot change that."

"Of course, my lord," Soprano said, with zero hint of disagreement in her tone, "We couldn't possibly hope to maintain power without the people anyway."

"I'm glad to hear that you understand that," I said, "The only reason to remove Velarana would be if she decided to put everyone's safety in extreme danger, as far as I'm concerned. And as far as you are too."

"Heard you the first time, my lord," Soprano replied, somewhat impatient, "What should we call it? For the troops I mean? 'Civil Disorder Intervention'?"

I thinned my lips, not liking the sound of that. For one, we might have to go out when there was no obvious civil disorder. For another, having even the stated purpose of the whole idea in the name seemed like it invited political trouble. Better to keep it vague from the out.

"Valkyrie," I thought aloud, "Call it Valkyrie. Paper plan only. No drilling on it."

Soprano, having read her Earth history, simply gave a nod. That was the only conversation we had on the matter.

We finished in a timely fashion. Velarana and Fisher stepped off the ship and came towards us across the dirty ground, wind whipping at us in the same direction. We moved out to meet them, between the two lines of armed troops, into no man's land. It was a time to be gracious.

"Congratulations on your victory, Admiral," I said at once, offering my hand, "It's about time the Navy had some battle honours."

"There will be many more to come," Fisher laughed, shaking on it, "The pirates will find out soon enough what I mean."

"I was glad to hear that the Halamshiral operation went without a hitch," Velarana said, "Although I would have been pleased to have seen the aftermath in person, before others had the chance."

Julie would be tickled silly to hear that line, I thought, as I granted the Chancellor a kindly smile.

"It seemed prudent to bring in a familiar face first, Your Excellency," I replied, "When we left Hearth, you were not well known." In fact, she was almost entirely unknown outside of the community of mages. A periphery figure at best.

"Something I intend to remedy quickly, Marquis," Velarana said sharply, "Count upon it."

Ouch. Discovering I had stepped on a nerve, I backpedalled.

"I defer to you in such matters," I replied, "As is my place."

The High Chancellor seemed to chew her cheek a little, pushing a wave of blonde hair from her eyes that had escaped her robes' hood. Thinking on whether or not an official rebuke for my actions was necessary. Suddenly, she let out an exasperated breath and waved her hand. "I have a speech to make," she said, "I look forward to your full account of the battle."

I snapped off a quick salute, which Velarana duly ignored, moving towards the crowd behind the ranks of the Rangers. Soprano went with her, to command the Rangers to give her space and something to stand on.

Which left Fisher and I alone at the docks.

"So, tell me," I said, amiably enough, "How'd you beat the loyalist fleet?"

Fisher's face lit up, delighted that he could explain. As planned. The Jaderites were not an ideological faction in the same way as the Aequitarians or Libertarians were, and I felt no need to alienate them simply because of their support for Velarana.

The Admiral pulled his cutlass, still sheathed, out from the loop of leather it hung from on his hip. Using the tip of the scabbard, he began drawing in the dirt and hay on the ground.

"It was very well done, if I do say so myself," he bragged, scratching away vigorously, "But you probably won't understand it unless I tell you how ships fight normally."

I wasn't really a naval history guy personally, but I didn't want to discourage him, particularly as he was so enthusiastic about it. "Go on," I said, waving my hand at the ground.

He drew small parallel lines, representing ships sailing beside each other in a sort of wave, bows all pointing the same way. He drew another directly behind it, and two more a little further away, facing towards it.

"This is called Rivaini Order, because the Armada came up with it to face the Qunari back during the Exalted Marches," Fisher explained, "The ships face each other in two waves, bows towards the enemy. The first wave is made up of the heavy ships, the second of the light ships. You sail straight at the enemy line, and tangle it up, making it into a close fight. The second wave then uses its superior manoeuvrability to intervene against targets of opportunity, and repeat the action again and again."

I looked at the scratchings with some guesswork, but figured it was a good idea. "I can see how it would work against the Qunari," I said, "From the pictures I've seen, their ships don't have sails, so their deck guns can fire forwards. And they have rams, so the temptation to turn and ram ships that have gotten inside their line of battle would be too good to resist."

"Exactly," Fisher said, with a tap of his scabbard on the stone near his feet, "The closer the Armada's ships got, the easier it was to fling Antivan firepots, and even magical fire attacks. Dreadnoughts aren't known for sinking in battle for this reason; they tend to explode."

I nodded, very much doubting that the Qunari shipwrights were the most innovative thinkers. They likely had the technology to make better ships, but not the inclination towards invention.

"So normally, you would have clashed with the loyalist fleet in the same way," I concluded, "What did you do differently?"

Fisher wiped away one of the double lines of ships, leaving the one nearest me intact. Where the other one used to be, he began to draw two broken lines; representing ships following one after the other.

"The cannon on our ships are mostly on the sides," he said, "And this presented a problem for the Rivaini Order. It doesn't exploit the firepower of the weapons properly. Getting that close means only using a few of them for most of the battle, and enemy can get close enough to use firepots and mages. Or even board us. So instead, I had the ships drawn up in a line of battle one behind the other behind the other, and then have the lead ships chart the course for the whole line to follow. It allowed us to do two things; get multiple shots at the enemy before they came into range, and it let us exploit the wind more effectively."

All of which sounded very familiar. "Did you get this idea from the Earth library?" I asked, "I'm pretty sure this is how navies fought back home for centuries after cannon were invented."

Fisher's nose went up immediately, the man taking immediate insult at the suggestion. "I did not," he insisted, "There are no books dealing with naval tactics in your library, at least not for sailing ships. If we had 'aircraft carriers' you could accuse me of such plagiarism, but not with this."

I held up my hands, genuinely apologetic. He was right, as far as I remembered. There were no detailed descriptions of Age of Sail naval battles in the Earth Archive, except for some paintings or engravings, which could easily be taken as either artistic license or one off events.

"I'm sorry, I'm just surprised," I said, "I suppose it makes logical sense to use your weapons as effectively as possible. I mean, the ballistas that shot firepots were always mounted on the front forecastle, right?" We had ripped off the forecastles, literal mini wooden castles built on the front, of all our ships to make them lighter and more seaworthy. It had worked wonders, apparently.

"Of course it makes sense," Fisher said, his tone returning to one of enthusiasm, "And I expect that the Trojan Order shall come to dominate naval affairs in the coming decades."

"Trojan Order?" I asked, "Not Fisher's Order? Jader Order?"

Fisher scoffed. "I am a proud man, Monsieur le Marquis," he replied, "But I am not so arrogant as to claim either of those honours. Cannon were not invented by Jaderites, but you Hearthlanders. The order was invented by me, a Jaderite. The two together are Trojans. This is the natural name for the strategy, do you not think?"

A sound argument, or good politics, on his part. There was no need for hostility from the point of view of Jader's top people either. Although maybe Fisher Junior felt differently about that. The granddaughter I mean. It's hard to keep track of them all, especially today. Not that my family is any less gigantic.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Splitting up the next chapter to get some releases out quickly.