“How would you propose to make that work?”
“Have our forces make a quick attack, not even make contact, but fire shafts into their force, then withdraw back along the road in a space where it’s clear that our riders follow the road. When the last rider passes, our troopers pull the framework into the trench, brace it with stones, and then withdraw a few more yards. One of us holds a concealment over the troopers and the pike frame. If the Hydlenese come at a walk, our archers stand in the road and loose shafts, prompting the Hydlenese to charge into hidden pikes.”
“What if they don’t charge?” asked Rojak.
“Then your archers will kill quite a few greencoats. It will also back up their advance. If you have archers placed where they can loose shafts from the side, you might cause significant casualties.”
Once more Raelf frowned. “For someone devoted to preserving Haven, you seem willing to fight in the town itself.”
“If we destroy the Hydlenese, we can rebuild whatever they burn or damage. If they don’t want to enter the town, we can whittle down their forces until they don’t have any.”
“If you’re successful in taking out most of a company, I don’t see Duke Massyngal’s officers waiting for us to come to them.”
“Then you could use something like those pike frames.”
“I have some men who might be able to do that, but not enough, especially if they have to be ready to fight.”
Beltur turned to Jessyla. “Do you think you could persuade Gorlaak and Jaegyr to build a few like that while I’m dealing with the patrol? It would be in their interest.”
“I might have to talk to Julli as well, but I’ll see what I can do.”
Beltur looked back to Raelf. “Are we set?”
Raelf looked to Khaamyn. “Do you have any questions, Squad Leader?”
“Can we practice riding under a concealment on the way out of Haven?”
“I’d thought we would.”
Khaamyn nodded. “I don’t have any other questions now.”
Beltur understood that. Khaamyn had questions for Raelf that he didn’t want to ask around Beltur and Jessyla. “Then we’ll make our preparations.” He stood, as did Jessyla, and the two made their way from the public room back to the rear of the inn.
Once they were outside, Jessyla turned to her consort. “You need to promise me that you won’t do the attack if you’re facing other mages and if you have any doubts.”
“How about serious doubts? I always worry and have doubts.” Beltur’s smile was wry.
Once Jessyla had mounted and headed in the direction of Julli’s house, Beltur took his water bottles from their saddle holders and went to the kitchen through the back door.
Claerk looked up from where he was wiping up something from one of the tables. “Ser mage?”
“I need to refill these with ale.” He laid three coppers on the table. “The regular ale will do, and in a bit, I’ll also need a bite to eat. Whatever’s available that you don’t have to cook.”
“Yes, ser.”
After Claerk refilled the water bottles, Beltur said, “Just leave them there. I’ll be back in less than a quint for the fare.”
Then he used a concealment and eased into the public room, where Cheld had just appeared with Khaamyn, who had apparently been sent to request the undercaptain’s presence.
“You’re taking the company this afternoon. You’ll accompany Mage Beltur and attack a Hydlenese recon company on the low hill to the east and overlooking the Hydolar road. The mage has assured me that he will not require you to carry out this attack unless the circumstances are favorable. You are in command, but you are to regard the mage as a senior captain of an allied force.”
“Ser?”
“Cheld, he has more recent combat experience than any of us. The last thing he wants is to lose any men unnecessarily. Even with his ability to shield himself, he’s risking his life as much as any of us. You may point out anything that you think he may not have seen or considered. You may ask polite questions.”
“Might I ask why you agreed to this attack?”
“Because Captain Beltur happens to be right. If you’re successful either in killing a significant number of Hydlenese or effectively destroying an entire company, at the least, it will reduce their numbers. At the most, it will also require them to use additional troopers to protect that outpost. That will reduce even more those troopers you’ll have to face in the field. If they choose not to reinforce that post, then their ability to scout our positions and deployment will be less effective. Is that clear?”
“Yes, ser.”
Beltur could tell that Cheld wasn’t entirely pleased, and also that Raelf ignored Cheld’s unease.
“Now … tell me which squads should be in what positions, and why…”
As the two began to discuss more company matters, Beltur eased back into the inn’s kitchen, where, after again checking with Claerk, he took some bread, cheese, and a slice of mutton as an afternoon repast of sorts, not that the inn’s fare was anything other than solid and only slightly better than barely acceptable, something he realized after having eaten Tulya’s cooking for the past half season.
After eating, he went back to the stables and led Slowpoke inside, where he fed and watered the big gelding, talking to him as he did. He doubted that Slowpoke understood or cared what he was saying, but Slowpoke definitely appreciated the attention.
Before he knew it, Cheld was mustering the company, and Beltur led Slowpoke out and mounted.
The undercaptain looked for a moment or two longer than necessary at Slowpoke, then said to Beltur, “Company Three is ready to ride, ser. They’ve been briefed on the attack and its need.”
“Thank you, Undercaptain. As Squad Leader Khaamyn suggested, we’ll need to give your men some limited experience in riding under a concealment. Before we begin, I’d like to place a concealment over the entire company, while no one is moving, just so that no one is surprised when we’re riding and begin practicing riding under a concealment. If you would have your squad leaders pass the word.”
Beltur waited until he was certain all the troopers had been informed, then turned to Cheld. “Your company will appear to vanish.” Then he placed the concealment over the entire company. At that moment, the only figures that appeared to be in the stable yard were Cheld and Beltur.
Beltur immediately called out, “Squad Leader Khaamyn! What do you see?”
“Nothing but blackness, ser.”
Beltur lifted the concealment, then said to Cheld, “I’m going to conceal you so that the troopers can see that concealments work and that I wasn’t blinding them to no effect.”
Cheld appeared to vanish.
“Are you still here, Undercaptain Cheld?”
“I’m here.”
Beltur waited a moment, then lifted the concealment.
Cheld blinked several times, then said, “That’s why you wanted the rope, then—to guide everyone.”
“Exactly. We can practice squad by squad on the way. We’ll start immediately. That’s so the troopers can get used to it on a level surface. Does each squad have its ropes?”
“They do,” replied Cheld.
“We’d better get started,” suggested Beltur.
“Company! Forward!” ordered Cheld.
From the square, Beltur led the company south on the narrow streets, finally taking the one that led to the solitary dwelling and outbuildings on the hilly and rocky grasslands. In turn, he cast concealments over the first squad, then the second squad. Doing so definitely slowed their progress, but not so much as trying to approach the hill holding the Hydlenese troopers would without any practice. He stopped using the concealments on the narrow winding path through the grasslands, where he did use his senses to see if whoever lived there happened to be present, but he could detect no one. Either people were absent, or they were hiding in a root cellar or the like. Once the company was on the narrow road paralleling the hills, Beltur resu
med having the squads practice riding under a concealment, cautioning the squad leaders that the concealment didn’t stop sounds from carrying.
Once they passed the side lane leading to the burned-out stead, Beltur kept sensing both ahead and to the south. He thought he could sense mages, possibly more than two, at the larger stead that the Hydlenese were using, but that was farther away than he could discern anything clearly. He also had to keep blotting his forehead and eyes in the damp heat of the afternoon, and he couldn’t help but notice that the heat and dampness didn’t seem to bother Cheld.
When they reached the last part of the road not visible from the hilltop, Beltur had Cheld call a halt, to both rest men and mounts, and also so that he could devote his full attention to the hill and the surrounding area. Beltur couldn’t discern any sign of mages near the recon outpost, but there was what appeared to be a loose picket line or line of sentries roughly circling the hill, possibly about a hundred yards below the roughly flat area at the top. Then he looked to the sun, still well above the tops of the scattered trees along the sides of the east-west road.
After studying the southeast side of the hill for a time, he turned to Cheld. “There aren’t any mages here now.”
“How can you tell?”
Beltur managed not to frown. Surely, Cheld should have known that. “By the increased amount of chaos around them. Or, if they’re blacks, the increased amount of order.” After a moment, he went on. “Once you think everyone is rested enough, we’ll proceed. From here on, until we begin the attack, everyone will be under a concealment. We’ll proceed at a slow walk. That will make it easier for the squads to keep in position. It will also keep the road dust down enough that it shouldn’t be noticed. Once we move off the road and through the grass and bushes, dust won’t be a problem.”
The calf-high grass might pose some difficulty if the sentries saw it moving, especially at the moment, in the still air, but around sunset, there was sometimes a light breeze, and the lower light level would make it harder to see. And if the Hydlenese noticed the approaching force, then Beltur would just have to drop the concealment and withdraw. But he wasn’t about to mention that at the moment.
While Beltur waited and took several long swallows of ale, Cheld rode down the column, informing the squad leaders, then returned.
“Everyone’s ready, Captain. Ropes are in place.”
“Then we’ll begin.” Beltur was counting on the slow ride of more than a kay to take a good glass, if not longer. He checked the rope tied to the fan buckle, then eased Slowpoke forward at a slow walk. He set the concealment so that the troopers only entered it just before they might have become visible to a sharp-eyed lookout or sentry.
Since, for a time, whispered instructions would be possible, Beltur was ready to issue them, but for the first quint, it wasn’t necessary, since, once around the gentle curve, the narrow road was relatively straight until it neared the next turn, where it headed almost due north. Just short of the turn there was a gap in the scattered bushes, and the ground was more level than it was immediately west of the center of the curve in the road.
As they neared the point where they needed to leave the road, Beltur said in a low voice, “I’m turning off the road. There are bushes on each side. Keep between them. Pass it back.”
He’d gone not more than twenty yards when he sensed one of the troopers veering into a bush, but somehow, between the others and the horse, he recovered. Although Beltur couldn’t “see” the sun, from the angle at which its heat struck him, he could tell that it was nearing the horizon.
Then he heard a muffled sneeze, but there was no reaction from the sentries much farther up the hill. There shouldn’t have been, given that they were almost half a kay away, but Beltur still worried.
Perhaps half a quint later, the air felt just a trace cooler. For a moment, he wondered, then realized that they were in the shade of the hill itself. From what he could sense, the squads behind him remained in a rough order, although he kept having to widen the concealment as the troopers’ mounts slowly picked their way up the hillside, most likely following Slowpoke’s scent or aura.
By the time another quint passed, Beltur sensed a trooper, most likely posted as a sentry, little more than fifty yards ahead, partly shielded by the large protruding rock ledge beside which he stood, positioned so that he appeared to be looking to the east, both north and south of his post as well. The trooper was posted a good two hundred yards from the apparent perimeter of the recon post, not that the Hydlenese had yet thrown up any earthworks, at least not on the south or southeast sides of the hilltop. The next-nearest sentry was a good fifty yards to the south, but that was still far too close.
Frig! There’s no way we’ll get around either of them. Even if they don’t see us, they’ll hear us. And that left Beltur no choices in dealing with them. Hydlenese troopers are enemy troopers, whether sentries or not.
As Beltur continued to ease Slowpoke up the gentle slope, he kept some of his attention on the two sentries.
Then, he heard voices.
“Karkyl! Do you hear horses?” Those heavy accented words came from the nearer sentry.
“Don’t hear a thing. Don’t see anything, either.” The reply was in the same accented dialect, except Beltur couldn’t help thinking that he probably spoke a dialect to them.
At that point, although it was a definite strain, Beltur put a containment around the nearer sentry. Because he didn’t want to strain himself any more than necessary, he just covered the man’s upper body and held it until the black mist of death appeared. Then he did the same to the second sentry, feeling both sad and relieved to let go of the containment.
They were little more than fifty yards from the edge of the encampment when Beltur heard more voices, lots of them. “I’m dropping the concealment. Dress your men and charge behind me.”
For a moment, all Beltur could do was blink. Even though the sun had set, it was early twilight, with more light than he’d anticipated. It’s too late to worry about that.
Then, thirty yards ahead, he saw three men in green uniforms, just staring, possibly because of the surprise or possibly because Beltur wore an unfamiliar uniform and carried no visible weapons.
Urging Slowpoke forward, he formed his shields into the killing blades, but making them somewhat narrower, knowing he had to take advantage of what little surprise was left but that he also couldn’t afford to exhaust himself the way he had before. The greencoats seemed frozen, or perhaps it was that time seemed to stand still as Slowpoke’s hooves dug into the mix of sand and grass and propelled Beltur toward the three.
He was less than ten yards away when two of the troopers suddenly unsheathed their blades and the third planted a long spear in the ground.
“Bluecoats attacking! Bluecoats attacking!” someone somewhere to Beltur’s left yelled. “From the southeast.”
Slowpoke stumbled on loose sand and rock for an instant, then regained his footing and charged toward the three troopers.
“To the southeast!” came a command.
“Second Squad! On me!”
Beltur turned Slowpoke just slightly and cut through the three hapless troopers. Beyond them he saw another group of troopers, perhaps half a squad, running toward the oncoming Montgren company.
“Let’s go, big fellow.”
As Slowpoke charged toward the oncoming troopers, a Hydlenese with a pike dropped to the ground in front of the gelding, seemingly out of nowhere, and braced the pike. The impact on Beltur’s shields nearly stopped Slowpoke and Beltur, if but for a moment before the pike snapped, possibly weakened by the knife edge of the shields. With that impact, the pikeman was thrown to the side, already dead before his body slammed into the side of a tent.
Slowpoke kept going, but, feeling shaken, Beltur narrowed his shields a bit more just before riding through the half squad of troopers. Even so, three died instantly, sliced by Beltur’s shields, and several others were wounded or flung aside.
Because they were tired from the ride from Hydolar … or because they expected us just to defend? Tired as Beltur was, he decided to think about that later.
At that point, he just reined up and took several long swallows of ale, as Cheld’s troopers finished off the last of the Hydlenese who had not fled, although Beltur hadn’t seen that many leaving. Not wanting to have Cheld’s company surprised in return, Beltur kept trying to sense other troopers, but so far as he could tell, there weren’t any, except for a handful of fleeing riders. The other thing he wondered about was why a recon post had pikemen, or had there just been a few pikes and he and Slowpoke had been unfortunate enough to run into a trooper who had one?
As he drank, he noticed that one of the squad leaders was throwing items onto a cookfire, clearly to burn whatever they could that they couldn’t carry off. He hadn’t thought of that, but he was glad that Cheld or his squad leaders had.
After he finished a last swallow of ale, he corked the water bottle. As he replaced it in the holder, Beltur sensed someone riding toward him, and he turned to see that it was Cheld.
“You knew I was coming, didn’t you?”
“I could sense you.”
“Have you sensed any others?” asked Cheld.
“Some riders headed in the direction of the stead where those two battalions are based. I don’t know that they’ll try to mount an immediate attack, but it might not be a bad idea to take everything we can and return to Haven.”
“I’ve got the men doing that already. We have over sixty mounts, some packhorses, and several days’ provisions for a company.”
“What were our casualties? Do you know?” asked Beltur.
“We lost four men, and seven more suffered wounds. Most of the wounded will likely recover.”
The Mage-Fire War Page 44
