BTW: the next one's likely to be delayed, since Sharon and I will be in Europe for two weeks. (Sorry we're not getting far enough east for a face-to-face, Dilandu!
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Even with their training, it would have been difficult or impossible for the new Imperial Charisian Army to have put this many men into the field this far north at this time of year without the manufactories of Old Charis. The Chisholmian experts had designed the necessary equipment, but their designs —tweaked here and there without their knowledge by an AI named Owl — had been built by Rhaiyan Mychail’s textile manufactories and Ehdwyrd Howsmyn’s foundries. Green Valley suspected that many of those foundry and manufactory workers in semi-tropical Charis hadn’t quite been able to believe in weather conditions severe enough to require the items they’d been making, but that hadn’t stopped them from churning them out in quantities no one on the Church of God Awaiting’s side could possibly have matched.
The column of marching infantry swung along on their snowshoes with the practiced gait of men who’d spent the last several five-days regaining and sharpening their skills. It was unlikely many Army of God patrols would be out and about in the snow and cold (in fact, Green Valley knew from the SNARCs that none of them were), yet the scout sniper battalions ranged well out in front of the main column on cross-country skis. He couldn’t exactly tell them there was no one in the vicinity, and he wouldn’t have even if he could. There were limits to how many “inspired guesses” he could make, and however readily he could talk with the other members of the inner circle, he was limited to more mundane methods of communication with his subunit commanders . . .none of whom had the SNARC access he did. Even when the SNARCs told him exactly what they might be walking into, it wouldn’t do any good unless he had some way to tell them, which all too often he would not. They needed the sort of reconnaissance which was the scout snipers’ speciality, and it was best that they stay in the habit of making certain they had it.
Behind the infantry, caribou and snow lizards hauled heavy cargo sleds, loaded with food, fuel, forage, and ammunition. Each infantry support squad was accompanied by its assigned caribou, pulling its mortars and ammunition on dedicated sleds, and each twelve-man squad of infantry towed two sleds of its own. One normally carried the men’s packs, sparing them that sixty-pound load, at least, while the other was loaded with the arctic tent assigned to that squad. The tent’s outer layer was steel thistle silk — light, strong, and so tightly woven it was virtually impervious to wind. The inner layer was woven cotton, quilted with eiderdown, and when the tent was erected there was an insulating two-inch airspace between the layers. The same sled also carried a lightweight steel chimney and a relatively small but highly efficient oil-fired stove. In a worst-case scenario, a smoke hood could be rigged at the base of the chimney to permit other fuels to be used in an open fire pit, although that would be very much a second — or third — choice for the tent’s occupants. It also would have posed a small problem for the tightly rolled caribou-hide sleeping mats strapped to the sleds to provide an insulating floor inside the tents.
Sleeping bags had been provided, as well, made in three layers — an inner removable liner, once again of steel thistle silk, followed by a thickly quilted insulating layer of eiderdown, followed by an outer layer of additional, insulated wind resistant steel thistle silk. The liberal use of thistle silk was expensive, even for the Charisian textile industry, but it was no longer prohibitively expensive, and it also meant they were light enough to carry rolled and lashed to the top of a riefleman’s pack. They were undeniably bulky, however, and because they made awkward loads, they were normally stowed on the sleds with the tents.
The men themselves wore white snow smocks over fleece-lined outer parkas and trousers of supple, well-tanned caribou hide. Inside that came inner parkas of steel thistle silk-lined, triple-knit wool over woolen shirts and corduroy trousers, and more steel thistle silk had been expended on each man’s long-sleeved and legged underwear. That “layered” effect was essential for arctic clothing, and the silk served as a barrier against the menace of water vapor. Arctic air could accept less water as vapor, so moisture like sweat quickly condensed out of it. The steel thistle silk prevented perspiration from saturating the layers outside it, which would quickly have destroyed their insulating capacity.
To protect his hands, each man wore heavy, multilayered mittens or thick fleece-lined gloves over an inner glove of knitted wool and a separate liner of steel thistle silk. The mittens were warmer than gloves because they gathered and held the heat of the entire hand, not individual fingers, but they were clumsy, to say the least, and the gloves allowed greater manual dexterity when it was required.
Boots had been as carefully considered as the rest of the troops’ gear. Made of sealskin and lined with fleece, they had double soles and an inner, moccasin-like liner which could be removed to dry, or worn as a sort of house shoe inside one of the tents.
The weight of all those garments was a significant burden, but one which allowed them to move and operate in temperatures far below freezing. Nature had provided the caribou and snow lizards with their own formidable insulation, and the High Hallows had been bred by centuries of Chisholmian breeders for conditions very similar to these. Nonetheless, arctic rugs had been provided for the horses as additional protection if the temperature plunged still lower.
The snow made marching difficult, even with snowshoes, but it provided easy going for the sleds which followed in the broad, beaten down lanes the infantry’s snowshoes provided. In many ways, conditions were actually less difficult than they might have been for dragons pulling conventional wagons cross-country in mid-summer.
And best of all, Green Valley thought, no one on the other side has a clue of just how winter-mobile we are.
Snippet! (summarily devoured before the hordes arrive)
and, Mangy Fur the Smart Alick Spacecat.