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Authors: Jr. L. E. Modesitt

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BOOK: Arms-Commander
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XXXVI

Saryn woke just after first light, cold, stiff, and sore. Her head still throbbed, if faintly, and her uniform was damp. The sky was as much gray as green-blue. Thankfully, Klarisa had detailed one of the guards to bring up the coals into a small fire. As she stood close to the flames, Saryn silently thanked the squad leader for the warmth. Three others from fourth squad stood around the fire, none close to the arms-commander.

Although it had not frosted, Saryn suspected that it had been almost that cold. The brisk wind out of the west made the air seem even more chill, though summer was almost upon the Roof of the World. But then, full summer wasn't all that warm on a mesa top in the heights of the Westhorns. With a west wind, Saryn reflected, they were less likely to get a thunderstorm, but the valley below would be warm by afternoon, possibly almost hot—at least by angel standards, cold as it was before sunrise.

“Ser,” Hoilya ventured, “how long will it be before the Gallosians reach us?”

“I'd guess today. It might be as late as tomorrow.”

“Just as soon they get here,” murmured one of the others. “Colder up here than doing picket duty at the stables…”

Not as cold as it will be if we don't get more quarters built and get people out of the stables.
With that thought, Saryn turned from the fire to look down-slope at a rider she had just sensed, a guard pushing her mount as much as possible. That urgency suggested the guard bore news of Arthanos. Saryn waited, since the rider could cover the remaining distance far faster than could Saryn.

“…wager she's going to tell us the Gallosian bastards are on the way…”

Saryn wouldn't have bet against the guard's aside.

When the rider finally neared, Saryn stepped away from the fire and walked several yards to meet her. “Greetings.”

“Ser, the Marshal sent me. The Gallosians were less than ten kays from the east end of the valley when they made camp last night. They should reach the valley by late morning or midday. The Marshal requests that you be ready to act on her command by midmorning.”

“Thank you. Once you've rested a moment, you can leave your mount and take one of our spares. You can tell the Marshal we will be ready for her command.”

Saryn turned to call for Klarisa, but the squad leader was already hurrying toward Saryn.

“We're to expect the Gallosians by midmorning. If you'd show the messenger which spare mount she can take to return to the Marshal, and then muster your squad up at the weapons. We need to lower the penetrators and set the fuses.”

“Yes, ser.”

Saryn turned and ran, if carefully, up toward the top of the mesa, then toward the northern edge, stopping when she could see the east end of the valley. The sun was beginning to clear the peaks to the east, and she had to squint to scan the thin line of brown that was the road, but there were no riders in sight, and she didn't see dust farther to the east. The thunderstorm of the afternoon before hadn't lasted that long, only enough to dampen the top of the ground, and the Gallosian army would raise some dust.

She doubted that the Gallosians were that close, since most commanders wouldn't begin a day's march through mountains in total darkness, and Arthanos would have had to start in darkness to reach the valley by sunrise. Even so, she and fourth squad couldn't waste time.

Why can't anything be easy?
She shook her head. If they'd already placed the weapons the day before, the storm would have soaked them and the fuses. By avoiding that problem, they faced the difficulty of having to lower and position the penetrators on short notice. That didn't take into account the various ailments she had from having to protect the weapons from lightning. At least all the ropes and harnesses were ready to go. She took a last look at the eastern end of the valley, still in shadow, then hurried to the weapons cache. The last members of the squad slipped into the formation before the still-covered penetrators as she neared.

“Ser, fourth squad stands ready,” Klarisa reported.

“Good. First, have them move the weapons to the marked staging points on the edges near the crevice. We'll move them all before we lower any into place.”

“Yes, ser.” Klarisa turned. “Uncover the weapons. Stack the waterproofs. Divona, Hoilya, Shenda, you take the first weapon. Agala, Yulia, and Rheala, you get the second one…”

Saryn walked swiftly toward the third marked location. That was a critical point. She had decided that two of the weapons were necessary there, one on each side of a slight bulge in the crevice wall. Lowering the second one into position on the west side of the bulge would be difficult because some two yards above where Saryn wanted to position the penetrator, the crevice narrowed to a point where it was only a few handspans broader than the weapon. She eased herself to the edge of the crevice and looked down, but it was hard to see in the early light. From what she sensed, no rocks or debris had fallen to block lowering the weapons. She straightened and headed back to the cache. She could carry ropes and harnesses.

By the time Saryn had the ropes and harness for the first two weapons in place, the rest of fourth squad had the weapons in the positions she'd marked with rocks and charcoal grease, and the guards were carrying the remaining ropes and harnesses into position. Saryn took several moments to check the valley. Still no sign of the Gallosians, for which she was grateful.

Once the harnesses were fastened around the weapons, the ropes tied to the harnesses, and all ready to be lowered into place, Saryn had Klarisa gather fourth squad. When everyone was there, she made her speech brief.

“We're going to lower the two weapons for the third position first, then those on the second, then the fourth, the first, and the fifth and sixth last. I'll be near the edge, and the squad leader will relay my instructions. Make sure you let the weapons down slowly…very slowly. One guard will have to hold and feed the fuse, and once the weapon is positioned, the ropes will have to be secured to the heavy stakes.” She nodded to Klarisa. “That's all.”

“You heard the commander. Let's go.”

Saryn flattened herself on the uneven and rocky surface slightly east of where the guards would lower the weapon. Two guards eased the first of the two heavy penetrators out over the edge of the crevice drop-out, then positioned themselves to feed the thick rope and keep it from being cut by the stone as four guards behind them bore most of the weight of the weapon.

“A little more toward me!” Saryn watched the penetrator creep downward. “Good…a little slower now…hold it! Move it away from me, just a bit…That's it. Now, ease it down…”

Even though she wasn't the one lowering the weight and struggling with the ropes, and despite the cool breeze, Saryn was sweating by the time the first penetrator was lowered and secured. The second one took longer, with all the maneuvering around the narrow spaces above where she wanted it placed, but it, too, was in place before that long. The next four weapons were lowered into place and secured relatively quickly, all with the fuses set in place and held by stones until they were ready to be lit off.

With one to go and midmorning approaching, Saryn could definitely see a pall of dust rising from the road leading down into the east end of the valley. “Last one!” she called.

Because the sixth position, the one farthest to the west, was also the narrowest section of the crevice, it took much longer to lower and position the weapon, so much so that Saryn felt it had taken almost as long for that single penetrator as for all the others. So she was surprised, once it was secured with its fuse in position, to discover that, while the dust cloud had almost reached the valley, the Gallosians were not actually in the valley. From the east end of the valley to the section where Ryba had planned for the avalanche to strike was close to three kays, and that meant at least another glass, if not two, before Saryn had to light off the penetrators.

She turned to the squad leader. “We've got a glass or so. Have the squad pack up and have everything ready to go. We'll likely have to leave quickly once we're done.”

“Yes, ser.” Klarisa hurried off.

Saryn checked the small leather bag that held the striker and tinder and tied it shut. She fingered the smooth splinters of fatwood in her riding jacket, now open to the breeze, just to reassure herself that they were there. Then she blotted her forehead and turned from where she stood on the eastern end of the mesa to see if she could see the Westwind forces, but the road through the middle of the valley still looked clear. For a time, she watched, first checking the western end of the valley, then the eastern one. The western end seemed empty, but all that meant was that Ryba had her forces concealed, most likely in the forest north of the road. When exactly would Ryba bring the guards out of hiding and spring her defense to halt the Gallosian advance and force the Gallosians into a more concentrated formation?

“Everything's set for us to ride out, ser,” said Klarisa from behind Saryn. “Do you see any of ours?”

“Not yet.” Saryn squinted, then nodded. “Wait a moment. I can see their advance squad. It's about half a kay into the valley.”

“You think the Marshal will try to pick them all off? So that no one gets back?”

“I'd guess so, but she didn't tell me what she plans.” Saryn tried to moisten her lips, but her mouth was dry. “I'd better get some water. We could be waiting here for a while.”

“I'll send one of the guards to get your water bottle.”

“That might be best. Thank you.”

For the next while, Saryn continued to watch the road, but the lead Gallosian squad rode onward, without opposition. Behind them, the first companies of the vanguard began to emerge from the wide pass. They did not stop, but continued along the road after the advance squad. Saryn checked the sky, but it remained a clear green-blue, with no sign of clouds and a steady brisk wind out of the southwest.

“Ser…your water bottle.”

Saryn turned and took the bottle from the guard. “Thank you, Rheala.”

“My pleasure, ser.” After a moment, the guard asked, “How long will it be?”

Saryn shrugged. “It could be a glass, but it's more likely to be two or three.”

“It doesn't take that long. You can see their lead squad is almost in the middle.”

“No…but the Marshal will want all of the Gallosians, or as many of them as possible, in the middle of the valley before we strike. That will take longer. Once they discover we have guards there, and intend to make a stand, they might even stand down to rest their men. They might even wait an entire day.”

“Would they wait to attack at dark?”

“That's unlikely. We're better in the dark, and Arthanos knows that. He could wait until tomorrow, though. We'll just have to see.”

From her vantage point on the mesa, Saryn could make out several squads of Westwind guards emerging from the forest to the north of the road and swinging in behind the Gallosian advance squad. Then another squad rode out from the woods about half a kay in front of the Gallosians. While Saryn was too far away to see the details, several Gallosians toppled from their mounts. That had to be a result of Westwind archers. Several more Gallosians fell while the advance squad seemed to mill around. Then the remaining Gallosians turned back toward the main force—only to encounter more arrows and a charge from the force behind them.

Before all that long, the section of the road between the main Gallosian force and the hill that Ryba had pointed out to Saryn again appeared empty, with the dead and wounded dragged out of sight and the captured mounts led off. The Westwind forces were mustering on the west side of a rise in the road that was just high enough, Saryn judged, to keep them concealed from the oncoming Gallosian vanguard.

Saryn took several swallows from her water bottle and kept watching, with most of fourth squad circled loosely around her.

Almost a glass passed. All of the main Gallosian force was now in the valley, and the two full vanguard companies were within half a kay of the concealed Westwind force.

Whether the vanguard had scouts out, or sharp eyes, someone had clearly noticed something, because the Gallosians moved into an attack formation and simply kept riding toward the Westwind forces. Saryn didn't understand that strategy, unless Arthanos had calculated just how many Westwind women there were, and unless he felt that without the great male mage Nylan, Ryba was simply posturing. What ever the reasoning, it was clear that the overall strategy was simply to keep attacking, beginning with the vanguard, until the force of numbers destroyed Westwind.

For the vanguard, that strategy was largely suicidal. After weathering a hail of targeted arrows, less than half the vanguard even closed with the Westwind companies, and many of those armsmen might have been wounded. In little more than half a glass, scattered handfuls of Gallosians were fleeing eastward, and the rest were dead or otherwise out of combat.

Within moments, a set of wagons appeared, moving forward of the Westwind positions, where guards began placing frameworks across the road and in a semicircle around the crest of the valley road. Saryn continued to watch as the Westwind guards stood down, remaining in a loose formation visible for at least a kay to the east. All the time, the main body of the Gallosian forces continued westward, with cavalry leading the way, followed by marching armsmen, with another set of cavalry troopers behind. In the rear came close to twoscore supply wagons.

As noon came…and went…the Gallosians kept moving toward the Westwind defenses. Once they were within clear sight, they halted, then reformed, with the foot moving to the front and taking the road and some distance on each side of it, and the cavalry flanking the foot, if with the larger portion on the open south side.

Ryba had either judged Arthanos correctly—or her visions had been accurate in regard to the Gallosian strategy. Arthanos was not even attempting finesse. He knew how few the Westwind guards were and intended to overwhelm them by sheer force of numbers.

BOOK: Arms-Commander
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