Kingdom's Fall

Chapter 22, Part 1

The stockade was good shape, and stocked to feed an army. It wasn't until Gray remembered that it had been built to house a much larger contingent of guards that he was able to get his mind round why it was so big. Built on a plateau just west of the dam, the path was no more than a shallow, foot-worn groove in the ground between it and the camp. It was stoutly-built, with a log palisade and inside its boundary a long, well-appointed barracks. Once they were sure it was clear of any stragglers from the Carelian army, the Engineers abandoned their tents and took up immediate residence.

Gray, Bronya, and Farran made straight for the overseer's quarters, and a brief search turned up everything they needed to know. Holder had kept a thorough journal of his time as master of the camp, including all communication from his superiors in the Carelian army. The dam had been behind schedule, almost two years behind the first estimates, and there was a sense of vast, simmering impatience running through the stack of increasingly terse missives from his superiors. It was little wonder that with the dam completed, Holder had been given the order to kill every man and woman not drawing an army wage and get his men moving. There was a war on, or would be, and there was no point in delaying for the collective sake of some prisoners. It also satisfied him that there would be no more supplies or relief coming their way. The Engineers were safe from discovery, but their resources would only last so long. The food stores were low, and the powder stock was - surprisingly - poor to the point of non-existence. That more than anything else was a concern to Gray. His plan to destroy the dam relied on there being a reasonable amount of powder left to damage it with. Bronya did not see the situation the same way.

"We should set off north," she said. "As soon as we can."

"And do what, exactly?"

She turned round a piece of paper and slid it across the table for him to look at. It was covered in tallies, representing measures of food. She was taking stock of how much food they had, and how well it could be rationed. "If we take the wagons from the yard, we have enough food to get everyone across the marshes. It's close, but we can make it."

"And once we're across the marshes, then what?" Gray pushed the piece of paper away.

Bronya paused. "We will find somewhere to go."

"In a land that's just been invaded by your countrymen," Gray said. "Nowhere will be safe. Kingdom folk will turn you in as Carelian deserters. The Carelians will kill you on the spot."

"What do you suggest we do, then?"

"We need to pull down that dam. It's the invasion that's holding you back. Stop that, and you can cross the border knowing you've solved at least one of your problems."

"I don't see how we can do it."

"I can," said Farran. "But not with the powder we have." He pointed to a sketch of the dam, drawing a line across the base of it with one finger. "If we dig underneath and plant enough powder, then the water will do the rest for us. If we weaken it enough, there's so much pressure on that wall that it will collapse on its own."

"How long will it take you to dig the tunnel?" Gray asked.