Glen Cook - An Ill Fate Marshalling

„I don't know what it is, but I feel great. I hope it's not just you and me."

It was not. The feeling infected everyone, though nerves should have been bowstring tight. But there are those mornings when things just seem ideal, and the world appears a beautiful place to all but the most sour of heart.

Even Sir Gjerdrum was cheerful. He hadn't smiled since Maisak. In private, he said, „I've been thinking, Bragi. You may be right about this. We might pull it off. And if we do, it might be the coup we need. It might get Shinsan off our backs for our lifetimes. It might be the stroke that silences our enemies at home. And they can't wait a lifetime. It's only the old Nordmen who want to get rid of us. There won't be many to replace them when they die off."

Bragi punched Gjerdrum's biceps. „Now you're getting it. This looked like a long shot when we started, but now I think we'll manage it. Wizard or no wizard." For days he had been looking over his shoulder, expecting Varthlokkur to appear. He assumed that the wizard would relent before the army reached Throyes.

„You think he'll show?"

„I'm confident. He's stubborn, so he'll try to make me worry, but he'll be here in time."

Breakfast finished, Ragnarson got the army moving. He had his scouts range far ahead, it wouldn't be long before they encountered some of the outlying farmsteads and manors orbiting Throyes. They were only seventy or eighty miles from the sea now. Though it was sparse, there was enough rainfall to support some cereal crops.

The night chill burned off fast. The day turned warm, though it never really became hot. The sky remained a clear, incredible cerulean blue. Bragi continued to marvel at how grand a world surrounded him. The hours slipped by.

„Look there, Klaus," he told one of his bodyguards. „That bird. It's a gull. We slide over the top of that range of hills and, if it stays this clear, you'll be able to see the sea."

The hills came closer. They were all rounded, humpy things, very old, carpeted with sere grass which gave them a tawny appearance. Off to the east there was a long black swath where a grass fire had run wild.

„Yo, Sire," a man shouted, pointing. „Riders coming in from the van."

Bragi stood in his stirrups, watched the men approach. They weren't hurrying. A routine report. He sat down, urged his mount forward.

„Sire," one scout said, „we've found a small watchpost." He indicated a hill slightly off the line of march. „Looks out over most of the plain. It wasn't manned, but there's a garrison in an adobe fort behind the hill. Twenty men, near as we could judge. Shinsan. They didn't act like they knew we were here."

„Uhm," Bragi grunted. He glanced back. The column was raising a lot of dust. „Is it that hill standing alone, out this way from the rest of the range?"

„Yes, Sire."

„Uhm. Did you see if there were any Tervola or Aspira­ tors there?"

„No sign of any, Sire."

„You left somebody to watch? To keep them off that hill?"

„Yes, Sire."

„Good. Messenger. Get me Captain Tompkin." Back to the scout. „That fort very tough? Any reason a light horse company couldn't take it?"

„It's not really a fort, Sire. More like an adobe blockhouse with a four foot curtain wall around it. The gate was off its hinges."

„Good enough. Show Tompkin where it's at. Give him a look from the top of the hill. He can decide what's the best way to take it."

The attack went smoothly. Tompkin returned to report that the garrison of eighteen, taken by surprise, had fought well but in vain.

„They should have been on their toes," Bragi said. „When you've got a war going you've got to watch your back as close as your front."

The column began skirting the hill during the afternoon.

Bragi remained cheerful. Twenty miles of hills and ten of flatland and he would be pounding on the gates of Throyes. He would camp in the hills tonight, and swoop down in the morning.

„Sire."

Bragi looked where the man was pointing, to his left and the column's rear. Riders were coming in fast. The screen of outriders was folding in behind them.

„That doesn't look good. Halt the column. Trumpets, blow commanders to me."

Gjerdrum arrived first. Bragi told him, „Get up that hill and see what you can see."

The knight wheeled away. Five minutes later the scouts arrived, their horses lathered and winded and stumbling. Their leader swung down and began babbling excitedly in Marena Dimura.

„Hold on, son. Slow down. I can't follow when you talk that fast."

The man jumped up and down and pointed. Bragi still didn't get what he said, but his meaning was obvious enough. There was trouble out that way.

Captain Septien arrived, listened, went grey. „Sire," he said, „there's a Shinsaner cohort headed this way."

„They seen us?"

The chief scout asked, listened. „He doesn't know."

„All right. Damn it all anyway. Baron, take charge here. Get the outriders in. Get the column behind the hill. I'm going up top to watch. You. You. You." He indicated messengers. „Come with me."

He met Gjerdrum halfway up. The knight looked greyer than Septien had. „What is it, Gjerdrum?"

Gjerdrum swallowed, said, „You'd better go see for yourself."

„Bad, eh?"

„Yes."

Bragi ascended to the watchpost. The scout had been right. Five or six hundred men formed a dark stain moving his way. No problem, really, except... except that that was just one of four such stains moving in from different directions.

„Gjerdrum. Think there's more of them?"

„Yes. In the hills. That's where I'd have put them."

„Right. No doubt that they know we're here? That they're coming after us?"

„Not in my mind."

„How did they know? And where did they come from? They're supposed to be tied up down south."

„What will we do?"

„We have the interior advantage. They're scattered. Get down there, take the horse out and smash... that bunch. They're the closest." The armies of the Dread Empire seldom used mounted warriors. Against western heavy cavalry they hadn't ever shown well. „Then come across after this bunch due east of us. Then that bunch there. Knock us a hole we can run out."

„You're going to run for it?"

„Damned right. No point in going ahead when they know we're coming. We won't fight any more than we have to to get away. We get through the gap, we should be able to stay ahead. We're in as good a condition, and they'll have to break through the horse to reach the rest of us."

Bragi scanned the plains again. He was disappointed but not upset. The mood of the day persisted. The trap did not look inescapable. „You bastard, Hsung, you won a round. But I'll get you one of these days. Get going, Gjerdrum. Runner. Message to Baron Hardle. We're going to dig in on this hill till Sir Gjerdrum clears us a way out. Go tell him."

Bragi looked at the approaching enemy again, then ele­ vated his eyes to the sky. There was one small trouble with his scheme. There might not be enough light left for Gjerdrum to open a wide enough gap.

Gjerdrum did crush two of the enemy units before the seeing became poor. But four more groups appeared. No hole big enough opened. „A whole damned legion, must be," Ragnarson murmured. Meaning the force he faced was at least as strong as his own. And, overall, better trained, armed, and disciplined. His men were good, but the soldiers of the Dread Empire were better.

„Well, Baron, looks like I did it this time," he said over a cold evening meal, against a background of grumbling eastern drums. „I put us in a good fix."

Hardle nodded, then surprised Ragnarson by saying,

„But you'll get us out. You always do."

The man's faith was touching. „Maybe. We've got the South Bows and the high ground. We get dug in good tonight and we'll be all right."