Tim Leach - A Winter War

‘I wanted not to see them, but I did. So I am certain.’

Others spoke then. A flank scout who had seen a shadow skate across a cliff face, another rider who had dismounted to check the hoof of his limping horse and caught sight of a figure in the distance. Saratos, letting his horse lap at a pool of water, who had heard some fragment of speech carried on the wind from far away.

There was no doubting it any longer. They were being watched, and followed.

Kai looked to their captain for her command, but she slumped down where she sat, her crooked jaw working as she muttered curses under her breath. He felt the fear spread through the circle, for they saw that their captain did not know what to do.

In open battle, there would be none quicker to lead the way. Hers was no death-mad courage, for her killer’s eyes saw further than just the tip of her spear. She could lead a warband in a breaking charge, or turn and flank and strike an exposed position, or lead a cattle raid that brought back a full herd and no empty saddles amongst the raiders. But the dancing shadow at the edge of her vision, the unknown figures on the horizon, the whispers of curse and ill fortune – these, it seemed, she did not know how to fight. And in her silence, others began to speak.

‘The Romans could not have moved so quickly.’

‘No telling what they can and cannot do. They were not supposed to know how to fight upon the ice, and yet…’

‘Do not speak of that!’

‘What if it is not the Romans at all? How could they come so far?

‘Dacians, perhaps, from the south. Vultures that they are, come to pick at our lands.’

‘They have no need to follow us. They would strike, or run. What do we have that would be worth the taking?’

‘Enough.’ And they did fall quiet, for it was Laimei who spoke now. ‘If they were greater in number than us, they would have struck already. If they are fewer, what does it matter? Watch for them. A scout at each side, and we keep to the open ground even if it slows us. But we continue on. They matter not, for now. We ride in our war gear tomorrow, but that is all.’

Again, the muttering that skirted at the edge of dissent. For they would ride tired and slow, weighted down with the heavy armour. They would be neither running nor fighting – that was how cavalry were destroyed. The meeting of eyes in the darkness, doubt passed silent about the circle like a flask of wine.

‘They may be few,’ Kai said slowly, ‘but if they—’

‘Quiet! I have spoken.’

Kai bowed his head, placed his hand over his heart. ‘You have spoken.’

She looked about the circle. ‘To your places. You know what to do. Sentries, helms off and hoods down – I don’t care about the cold, I need your ears more than your eyes, even if you freeze them off. The rest of you sleep light, weapons in hand. But sleep. Trust in your companions, and trust in the gods.’

They broke from the circle, and Kai saw that the others seemed content, given purpose. For even if they thought their orders wrong, they were a captain’s commands, a captain favoured by the divine. If they were commands that would kill them, they came from the gods. Only he remained behind, for his sister’s gaze held him in place, a silent command. And when they were alone, she said, in words more measured than he had expected: ‘I did not bring you to cause trouble.’

‘I did not come to be ambushed before we are in sight of the Danu.’

‘Nor did I,’ she said simply.

He paused for a moment. Then he said: ‘Found us quickly, didn’t they?’

She tilted her head to the side, eyed him with what he thought might be a grudging respect. ‘Aye. They did. I forget that you are not always a fool. Romans or Dacians, it does not matter who they are. But how they found us…’

‘You think they were watching the camp?’

‘Perhaps,’ she said carefully. ‘A hard thing to do through winter. Perhaps they have a good magician in their service, to mask them so cleverly. But I do not think it so.’

‘You cannot mean to let them stay behind us.’

‘No. We shall catch them. But I do not share my plans with all the warband.’ She drew her knife, and picked restlessly at the ground. ‘I do not trust you for much, Kai,’ she said. ‘But I trust that you would not betray our people. You are weak, but no traitor.’

Kai’s breath stilled in his throat for a moment. ‘You think—’

‘Perhaps.’ And her eyes flittered about the camp from one man to another, the way a falcon will choose its mark from a flock beneath it. ‘I wish it were only those of the River Dragon here. The winter truce is finished now, and the other clans cannot be trusted.’

‘What do you want me to do?’

‘Take six riders that you know to be loyal.’ A pause. Then, grudgingly: ‘There are many that seem to look to you. I cannot think why. But do not take it as a mark of honour. I can spare you, that is all.’

‘When?’

‘Tomorrow. There is a forest, a river cutting through it. Further than we should go tomorrow, but we shall press on late, into twilight. They will have to follow us or lose us.’

‘And I stay behind.’

‘Just so.’

Kai nodded slowly. ‘There may be many of them.’

‘You fear to fight against the odds?’

‘Just do not think poorly of me if we do not come back.’

A shadow of a smile. ‘No worse than I do already,’ she said. ‘Ride through once, then break away. Do not stand and fight, not even with that pretty Roman sword of yours.’ She rose and walked past him, and as she did so, he felt a touch on his shoulder. ‘Try to come back,’ she said. And then she was gone into the night, and he could hear the foul curses echoing out as she berated one of the sentries.

He sat there for a time, his hand upon the shoulder where she had touched him.

‘Perhaps she has forgiven me,’ he said out loud, testing the weight of the words to see if they felt as though they might be true.

It was when they passed the ford close to dusk that Kai knew the time was near.

They had passed many a good spot to make camp, open ground that could be watched and defended. For most of the company there seemed no need to press on into the forest during darkness. To take the cavalry through the trees that stole every advantage they had and risked laming their horses, yet their captain pressed on. But there were those amongst the riders who had another purpose, and as they rode over the ford they were glancing back, mapping the paths between the trees, noting where the thick roots lay like snares, where a branch looped low to hook a horseman from the saddle. They might not get another chance to see it in good light.

Six, there were – Kai and his companions. And as they passed the ford they drifted towards the back of the warband. Some dismounted, feigning to adjust a saddle or retie a leather thong on their gear. Others turned and looped along the side of the line, as though scouting at something half-seen behind them. One by one they fell back, all of them looking to Kai, waiting for the signal.

He had spoken to them throughout the day – Tamura, Saratos, Phoros, Goar, and Erakas, those ones whom he thought might be most trusted. He had told them little enough, to be at the back and follow his lead after they passed the ford. None had questioned him.

And as it turned to dusk and the sun drew close to the horizon, he tapped his spear against Tamura’s, a soft ring of metal against wood. And they turned their horses, formed into a loose skirmish line, and began to trot back towards the ford.

There was no concealing it from the others. But even as Kai’s riders turned away there came the quick-barked orders from his sister, the command to keep silent and keep riding. And yet even so there was a voice from behind, a voice calling his name.