John Carr - Kalvan Kingmaker

"We are the superior force so we call the shots, not Soton. If we stay here to chase down these Knights, we will allow the larger part of Soton's army to reach Tarr-Ceros where we will never be able to root him out."

The Warlord was beyond reason. "My warriors are here to fight the Knights. They will not leave until the Knights are all dead."

Nestros nodded in agreement. "If I tried to leave without engaging the Knights, my own men would call me a coward. Many would break away and return home. I would have open rebellion upon my homecoming."

Kalvan shook his head in frustration. "What if I sent an armed force to chase Soton while we are engaged in this battle? Would that be honorable?" His sarcasm was lost on the two leaders, who both gave his words serious consideration.

"As long as it is not perceived that the larger part of the army is leaving, my warriors would not complain," Sargos said.

"Nor mine," added Nestros.

Kalvan turned to Harmakros. "Take the Mobile Force and two regiments of Royal Carbineers and give chase to Soton. You probably won't be able to engage him, but harass him and do as much damage as you can."

Harmakros nodded happily, eager to get away from this botched allied operation. Kalvan couldn't blame him. "Warlord, can you supply a few hundred skirmishers for the Mobile Force?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

Realizing that the best way to teach his allies military tactics might be letting them learn through the errors of their way, Kalvan suggested that the Warlord demonstrate the most effective way to join the Knights upon the hill in battle. Sargos visibly swelled at the honor. "I will send a thousand infantry to draw them out."

It took the rest of the morning for Sargos to gather the necessary troops and give them orders; his biggest problem was turning down volunteers who felt dishonored that they were not chosen for the attack. His warriors roamed the hillsides poking into holes and pits for almost an hour, finding only one oath-brother, who was instantly turned into a porcupine by hundreds of arrows. Just when they were starting to despair of ever finding the enemy, hundreds of fully armored Knights popped out of the hillside, like apparitions. With sword and pistols they tore into the nomads with fury. Bodies were hacked and dismembered before their eyes, while the nomads swords and spears were turned away or broken on the Knight's armor. It was a slaughter.

"Send reinforcements!" Kalvan cried, but before the first cavalry were less than a quarter up the hill most of the force was dead or wounded, while the knights vanished almost as quickly as they had appeared. Sargos looked shaken and the nomads were spooked.

King Nestros had a smug look upon his face.

"What?" Kalvan asked.

"If those had been Rathoni soldiers, the Black Knights would have never left their holes. Let me take a force up and we will show the nomads how this work is done."

Kalvan threw up his hands. "Do your best." Sargos was blank faced, but unable to keep his left eye from twitching.

Nestros' much larger party of several thousand soldiers moved warily up the hillside, considerably sobered by the slaughter of their allies. Each party contained spearmen who used their spears to poke into anything suspicious. Occasionally a Knight or one of his oath-brothers would be flushed out and emerge fighting, only to be quickly cut down in a flurry of slashing swords and pistol shots. It was a good thing Kalvan still had five wagons loaded with Hostigos fireseed with all this shooting. Meanwhile, the rest of the host stood around making comments and calling out advice. Already their camp followers had caught up with the main body, and there were brightly dressed women, wearing flowing dresses and colorful scarves, with small children running in between horses' legs.

Meanwhile, Kalvan beat his brains against his skull trying to come up with a strategy, which would allow them to root the Knights out of the hills. He didn't have much faith in Nestros' plan. The obvious solution was to starve the Knight out of the hills, but he had no idea of how much food they had, but suspected it was the greater share of Soton's fleeing army. It could take a moon or more before hunger brought them down. As he stood there, a young nomad boy ran up to Kalvan, touched his breastplate for luck and ran away again. I feel like I'm at the circus, not a battlefield!

Kalvan watched with interest as several parties of armored men entered the tunnels. All was quiet for a few minutes, and then a battered and bloody Rathoni soldier ran out of a tunnel no one had entered. By the outcry his words raised, Kalvan didn't hold out much hope for his comrades. The soldiers continued poking around for another hour or two, but the results were pitiful-five captured tame Sastragathi and two dead Knights, who took several men with them to Regwarn.

Finally, King Nestros gave up and recalled his soldiers. He shrugged at Kalvan and gave him a 'what now?' look. Shadows were already growing long, so Kalvan sat with Sargos and Nestros, devising a picket of the five hills the Knights held. The scouts had found no evidence of any other nearby party.

By the time equal numbers of Sastragathi and Trygathi soldiers had been dispatched for picket duty, it was time for dinner. Kalvan invited both leaders to the farmhouse that had become his temporary (he hoped!) quarters. For the evening meal they had mystery-meat stew and succotash. When the plates were cleared, Kalvan broke out a jug of Ermut's Best and served both allies' generous cups. Nestros and Sargos got into an argument over the advantages and disadvantages of mounted archers and Kalvan listened to this experienced discourse with a grin on his face. A transcript of this conversation would have served as a doctoral dissertation at any major university with a good history department back in otherwhen. He also smiled because a few years from now, both men might well be making the same arguments in regards to mounted and dismounted arquebusiers. Many drinks later Kalvan excused himself and fell into bed. He was beginning to get used to straw ticks, especially after a few months of sleeping on the ground.

Kalvan was awakened by a loud banging noise that at first he feared was coming from inside his head until Jaklon opened the door and told him he had a visitor. He dressed quickly in the same jerkin and slops as yesterday and exited his sleeping quarters. It was Warlord Sargos looking disgustingly wide awake for a man-if Kalvan's memory served him right-who had drank the lion's share of three jugs of Ermut's brandy. "What?" Kalvan asked.

"Great King, I had a vision last night!"

Kalvan stifled a groan. What demons had the brandy conjured forth in Sargos' drunken wits? And why was he so determined to share this hallucination with him? "Yes?"

"I dreamt that I was flying again, in the guise of a raven."

Ahh, the spirit of Edgar Allen Poe returns, Kalvan mused. He kept his thoughts to himself, knowing how superstitious the tribesmen were about visions, omens and portents.

"As I flew closer to the earth, I saw this, our own encampment, with the hills that lay before us. Only the hills were on fire, belching clouds of smoke and ash. As I flew closer, I saw that the hills were alive with soldiers running out of the tunnels and pits, like termites fleeing a burning mound. Then I woke up!" Sargos looked expectantly at Kalvan as though he expected him to give him a Freudian dream analysis of this nightmare.

Kalvan shrugged his shoulders, experiencing another round of pounding headache. He felt as though the Hostigi drum corps had taken permanent residence in his head. "Go on."

"Then I thought back to my youth, when my mother used to bake whole boars for the First Day Feast. She would wrap the whole pig in leaves and then bury it in a clay mound beneath hot rocks. When we dug it up that evening, the cooked flesh would fall from the bones." Sargos smacked his lips, as if reliving the memory.