He pointed his sword, indicating the vast sweep of hillside before them. “What do you see?”
“No space for a wide line,” Sasha replied, standing half upright in the stirrups for a better look, the wind tossing at her tri-braid. “Best to keep them in small groups, perhaps five apiece, following two routes of approach.”
“Why not more?” Kessligh asked, voice raised above the thunder of hooves.
“There are only so many good approaches through broken terrain. Also ambush spots are limited on the way in, we only need so many vantage points.”
Kessligh nodded. “Also, see the way the paddock walls follow the contours of the land?” He swept his sword across a forward arc…and Sasha noticed that indeed, the stone walls did hold to the higher ridges and climbed the steeper folds at right angles. Which was one of those things that Kessligh called the difference between knowledge and wisdom—of course she'd always known the farmers constructed their walls as such, she'd simply never thought of the military implications. Most wisdom, Kessligh insisted, was comprised of things that most people already knew, but simply hadn't understood in all its implications. “Trust the farmers, they know the land better than we. Follow the walls, use them as a guide to the land. And see this shallow depression downslope? If we follow it further leftwards instead of the direct route to town, we'll have cover for longer and gain some surprise.”
“Might they already have seen us?” Sasha asked.
“Perhaps…but I suspect they'll be watching north for Taneryn reinforcements, not south. These are Hadryn villagers, I'm moderately sure, not company soldiers.”
A low stone wall approached, Peg and Terjellyn jumping it comfortably. “You think they've claimed this land for Hadryn?” Sasha asked.
“I think they've been awaiting an opportunity for a long time,” Kessligh said darkly. “As for what they've actually proclaimed…we'll know when we're down there.”
“Who's in charge now with Lord Rashyd dead? Usyn?” Kessligh nodded. Usyn Telgar was heir to the Hadryn Great Lordship and not much older than herself. “You think Usyn ordered this?”
“I think he'll deny it. But so much in the Hadryn–Taneryn conflict just happens by mutual consent of all involved.”
Leftwards, Sergeant Garys's contingent of perhaps thirty horse came to a halt upon an open, sloping field and began forming up. Sasha and Kessligh reined upslope, angling past a broad shelf of dark rock that thrust from the green field, forming a minor cliff below which numerous sheep were grazing.
“Back there,” said Kessligh. “That woman called you the Synnich.”
“It was Synnich-ahn,” Sasha corrected. “Across all the northern tongues, the “ahn” infers a guide.”
“They used to call me that.”
“They still do. But I'm your uma. It seems it's fallen to me.”
Kessligh looked displeased. “You shouldn't fool around with prophecies, Sasha. This kind of superstitious nonsense can get you into deep trouble.”
Sasha stared at him, aghast. “How is this my fault? What possible say can I have over what people may choose to believe?”
“You've become a symbol to the Goeren-yai, Sasha. You of all people should know how long they've wished for a royal Goeren-yai—”
“I'm Nasi-Keth, I can't speak for them!” Sasha cut him off, angrily.
“And as Nasi-Keth,” Kessligh replied, “you should remember that you are bound to the Nasi-Keth as much as to anyone in Lenayin.”
Sasha snorted in disbelief. “Why is it that as soon as anyone important says anything nice to the Goeren-yai, all the Verenthanes are up in arms!”
“Because it is the nature of power to be nervous,” Kessligh said grimly. They reached the next low wall, and cleared it together. “And because the ruling class are all Verenthanes and know only too well what a Goeren-yai uprising could mean for them all.”
“How could anyone possibly be stupid enough to think I would be interested in that?” Sasha demanded.
“Because the more powerful men are, the stupider they become. Lord Krayliss threatens exactly that. And rumours now place you at his side. As I predicted, if you recall.”
“I can't control what people say about me!” Sasha snapped. “I am who I am!”
Kessligh did not reply. Up ahead, every man was watching as they rode forward. Sasha could see the confidence in their eyes, and their posture in the saddle, to see the great man approach. Many had no doubt grown up with their ears filled with stories of the great Kessligh Cronenverdt. To ride into conflict of any in the company of the great Kessligh was an honour above nearly all else.
A cheer went up as Kessligh and Sasha approached, and Sasha decided to pull Peg back a length and allow all attention to fall upon her uman. Kessligh waved his sword in reply. Surely these men weren't to know how much Kessligh hated all the adulation. Not that he ever let it show—he respected the pride of Lenay warriors far too much. Let them have their hero, and cheer when they wanted to cheer. Kessligh had more important things to worry about.
“We'll take the rear,” Kessligh announced to the group, meaning himself and Sasha, “like the pair of unarmoured cowards we are.” A roar of laughter. “We'll be crossing the road to Hadryn on this side, and the guardpost there. If they've got archers, remember—don't charge, flank. That's what cavalry's for. Get behind them and kill them, no need to give them easy shots. If they look undecided, demand they surrender and save yourself the trouble. It'd be lovely if they all surrendered immediately, but I don't expect it. As flankers, we have the perimeter, Prince Damon shall lead the main force into the town. He's relying on us to keep his flanks and rear secure from counterattack. Let's not let him down. Sergeant Garys has the lead.”
Another cheer went up. From back at the road, an answering cheer, no doubt in reply to a similar speech from Captain Tyrun. The right flank would be led by a lieutenant whose name Sasha hadn't yet learned. Kessligh had said that Damon would lead the central attack, Sasha reflected as they moved aside for the formation to come past. Flattery of the prince before the men—technically Damon was leading the central charge, but he would be several rows deep from the front, surrounded by his little contingent of Royal Guard.
To her faint surprise, she felt the first, genuine stab of worry. Concern for Damon, no less. And reprimanded herself a moment later—Damon was a fine horseman and swordsman…for a non-svaalverd fighter, anyhow. No effort in training was spared for a Prince of Lenayin. And he was the best protected soldier in the formation; not easily distinguishable from a regular soldier in his dress—he would be fine.
“You,” said Kessligh, pointing to Terjellyn's rear, “stay right here, the whole time. You're good on your feet, but cavalry's a whole different world. Know your limitations. And his.” With a sharp gesture to Peg.
“I know,” she told him, meeting his stern gaze as calmly as possible. “I won't do anything stupid. I promise.”
“First time for everything, I suppose.” But his crooked smile held a hint of real affection. Sasha felt her heart swell. He reached out and they tapped fists. From Kessligh, a rare gesture indeed. It almost worried her, that he should choose this moment for such a gesture.
A yell then from the centre, and across the rolling hill, the central formation moved off downslope, three lines of horsemen following the road and two additional lines to either side. Sergeant Garys waved a fist and the left flank moved forward at a canter. As the last of them passed Sasha and Kessligh's position, they tapped heels and followed.
The low wall they'd jumped on the way up presented the first obstacle—armoured Lenay horsemen regularly practised on obstacles twice as high, and cleared it comfortably. The pace accelerated to a fast canter, each of the two lines’ leaders scanning intently ahead, selecting their line across the undulating downward slope, over walls, past orchards, farmhouses, barns and clusters of livestock, planning ahead and predicting events. The leader of the rightward column had another man at his side, holding formation wit
h his leader, but glancing continually across at the central formation as they came down the winding road, making sure this flank did not outpace, nor were left behind.
The rear had a certain freedom, Sasha saw, realising now the other reason why Kessligh preferred it, apart from his and her lack of armour. She could see everything without bothering about formations—the central column upon the right, weaving and splitting to pass about another burned farmhouse, the broken, rocky ridge over to the far left where the open farmland appeared to stop, and all the sweeping contours in between. The pace accelerated once more, and she took the liberty of galloping off to Kessligh's side, to gain some space.
The hillside was flatter for a moment, then fell away more steeply and she had a brief, fantastic view of the town of Perys, nestled upon its protruding ridge below. As they drew closer, some of the smoke in town appeared to be accompanied by flames.
The horses in front leaped another wall, then descended the steeper slope beyond…the wall rushed up, Sasha counting Peg's strides and judging distances by reflex, then sailing precisely over, touching with barely an impact as the slope fell away. They plunged at rapid speed as the whole front accelerated, Peg stretching out and threatening to gain on the riders ahead. Sasha wove him off to one side, then back again, and liked the way the vantage changed at that speed, as the wind stung at her eyes and clods of earth from the racing horsemen in front spun and fell to all sides like rain.
They raced into the depression Kessligh had indicated earlier, Perys out of view behind the intervening ridge, then rounded the ridge's end. Over and across a slanting rise in the land, then, hurdling another wall and skirting the smouldering remains of a farmhouse, a rush of ashen smell upon the wind. Suddenly to the right the road was visible once more, and upon it the central formation, which had skirted the cliff's other end.
She saw the other horseman before anyone—a startled figure racing from behind the cover of an orchard—and yelled warning. More yells went up from the front as he was joined by a second, racing downslope at full speed. Suddenly Kessligh was peeling off, selecting a path to the right of the orchard strip. A farmer's hut lay in ruins behind the orchard wall and then Kessligh's arm was indicating another line to the right, a stream, Sasha saw, cutting downslope and through the orchard.
Kessligh jumped, and then she did, past the ashen ruin and angling right to take the stream directly…and Sasha caught a glimpse from the corner of her eye—bodies upon the ground, human and livestock, slaughtered together. Peg leapt the stream, then skirted the orchard's right flank, low fruit trees whipping past her, Sasha drawing her blade for the first time and holding it low to the right, ready for surprises. The orchard passed with no sign of further hidden riders as they leapt the end wall and continued across an open field, panicked sheep scattering before them in waves.
Ahead, several guardsmen were closing on the two escaping riders. Peg and Terjellyn hit their full stride for the first time, closing the gap and hurtling down the slope. Another cry rang high upon the wind ahead above the thunder of pounding hooves.
“Murdering thieves! Murdering thieves!” A pursuing soldier aimed a crossbow upon his saddlehorn. A jolt, and one of the thieves faltered, clutching awkwardly at the reins. Then fell, rolling and crashing at bone-breaking speeds. The soldier's companion was gaining on the second man, sword raised, but at the last moment, the remaining thief evaded him and the guardsman and his formation charged on, having no time to stop and deal with stragglers.
Except that now, Kessligh angled directly toward the thief, weapon raised with obvious intent. Sasha fell back and moved across, ready to intercept any obvious escape route. The rider swung from the saddle, clutching stirrup and rein to use his horse as a shield. Kessligh and Sasha flashed by him, one to either side, Sasha sparing a disgusted glance over her shoulder as the man regained the saddle and spurred his mount uphill, making no attempt to follow.
She and Kessligh leaped a wall, skirted a rising mound of rock, then crested another slight rise as suddenly Perys appeared directly before and below. Three groups of horsemen now rushed downslope upon that central, converging ridge. The downhill road linked with another from the left that ran off toward Hadryn, along the shoulder of the gorge. Through that junction ran a stone wall no higher than the others, and a simple guardpost with a hut and a small barn for horses. Squinting through the wind, Sasha could see figures manning that post and several spots along the wall, plus several tethered horses. Above the thunder of hooves, there came the sound of a bell tolling.
The Falcon Guard raced the final length of slope, weapons brandished and banners flying. From the town, well behind the stone wall, there emerged a number of horsemen coming out to greet them. Sasha saw the guardpost archers fire, and abandoned any last hope of a rapid surrender as a leading guardsman's horse went down in a horrid tangle of animal and human limbs. There came an answering roar from the Falcon Guards, and then they were plunging over the wall, the archers ducking for shelter as the central formation continued across open ground to the town and the emerging riders.
She missed that first clash, however, as Kessligh swung wide right, then back left to jump the wall at a close angle. Sasha followed a width wider for cover, and saw Terjellyn fairly trample one runner into the ground, Kessligh reversing for a neat backhand cut to fell a second as he ran. And then he was riding up along the wall, flushing men from their hiding crouches even as a number of Sergeant Garys's group came circling back. Several reloading archers leaped the wall to escape Kessligh's blade, another freed his horse and leapt astride just in time to be cut from the saddle at Kessligh's passing.
They swerved to miss the guardhouse and barn; the remaining, tethered horses scampering in fear, another man throwing himself clear in time to avoid Terjellyn's pounding hooves only to find himself in Sasha's path—Peg had no respect for human-sized obstructions when his blood was up, and she barely felt the bump as Peg smashed him spinning aside. Then some of Sergeant Garys's men were in amongst it, riding down foot soldiers and sweeping both sides of the wall.
Sasha lost Kessligh momentarily in a confusion of riders, struggling for control with a double-reined grip in her left hand—Peg saw a gap almost before she did and went through it with little urging, into open ground before the town. Riders wheeled ahead, more of the flanking formation dealing with those the central formation had bypassed. Weapons slashed and cut, outnumbered defenders trying desperately to survive through manoeuvre and defence…several horses with empty saddles, a pair of guardsmen collided, a crash of horses and a catapulting rider, Sasha reining aside that collision and searching in vain for Kessligh…
A snarling rider in northern dark greys came at her from the right and she dug in her heels, Peg's acceleration leaving the rider's swing far short. She dodged again as another two men locked in jostling combat threatened to hit her, then slashed hard at a wild stroke from her side—it jolted her arm and she spurred Peg on, emerging from that little knot to find open ground to Perys in front, and the tail end of a horse she fancied was Terjellyn disappearing fast into its main street. She spurred after him, flexing her aching arm and risking a glance behind to see if she were pursued. Having cleared the wall of opponents, guardsmen were now heading for the fight in strength—soon the odds for the defenders would be overwhelming.
Peg raced across the undulating final stretch, frothing and blowing hard, Sasha wriggling the fingers on her gloved right hand, as the index finger had gone suddenly numb. She hadn't performed that parry well at all. Kessligh was right, cavalry fighting was not ideal for a svaalverd fighter—balance in the saddle was not always simple, and fared far better with two hands than one. Deprived of her technique, the strength of Lenay fighting men became formidable. That last man had struck hard.
Then Peg's hooves were pounding upon the packed earth road, ramshackle houses to either side, their doors smashed in. Further ahead, several dwellings were reduced to smouldering ashes. Beyond that, something large still burned
. She raced by several bodies in the road, recently slashed and weapons at their side, blood pooling upon the dirt. Ahead, the road opened into what appeared to be a central village courtyard. Within, fighting raged, horses trampling in circles and swords clashing. There was no sign of villagers anywhere.
She burst into the courtyard and saw the main source of smoke—the roof of the broad, wooden training hall, which dominated the centre of the square, was on fire. Guardsmen seemed to have mostly won the fight against opposing cavalry as many Hadryn bodies lay sprawled about the square. Numerous guardsmen had dismounted to give chase into broken doorways, or across the debris of previously destroyed buildings. She noticed guardsmen clustered upon the front verandah of the training hall, hammering at the door with their sword hilts. One gave a harsh command to others, who went racing about to the building's other side, searching for entrances. From inside, she could hear the shrill cries of women.
Sasha spurred Peg forward while sheathing her sword. She leaped from the saddle, running across the stones and onto the verandah. “Someone give me a lift!” she yelled at the men hammering at the door, which appeared to be firmly locked. They spun…and to her surprise, the leader was Jaryd, his young face streaked with sweat beneath his helm. “Get me onto the roof! I can get in from there!”
“The damn roof's on fire, fool!” Jaryd yelled back as his men continued hammering.
“I know! I spend a lot more time in these buildings than you do, just trust me!”
Jaryd swore and ran to her side, hands clasped together for a cradle. Sasha stuck her foot in it, grasped the support pillar for balance and shoved upwards. Jaryd lifted at the same time, with a great heave, and she caught the verandah roof with both hands. She got an arm over, braced an elbow and scampered with both feet upon the pillar…it propelled her over the edge and onto the wooden shingles. She rolled upright, immediately feeling the heat of the flames that roared and surged upon the right side of the roof, threatening to cave it in.
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