Storms of Destiny (68 page)

Eregard blinked, then stiffened, and Agivir looked up at Salesin, taken aback.
Oh, this Crown Prince is devious,
Jezzil thought, dismayed.
By Arenar, there is now no way for
Agivir to allow his general to lead in his stead, lest he seem
to be a coward.

“But … but I thought—” Eregard stammered, then broke off when Jezzil stepped down hard upon his foot. The Prince clamped his mouth shut, his eyes smoldering.

Agivir cleared his throat. “Indeed, yes,” he said slowly.

“We will, of course, lead our troops tomorrow.” He glanced at his servants. “See to it that our warhorse armor is polished and that Banner is suitably arrayed.”

The servants bowed and withdrew.

“And now, to business,” Agivir said. “We shall review the battle plan. Salesin, will you begin?”

Eregard sank back into his seat, his features cold and impassive. But Jezzil saw his eyes before the Prince lowered them, and they were filled with fear.

As she stood peering into the gloom of Ombal Pass in the predawn darkness, Talis shivered. The wind coming down from the mountains was chill, and she shivered again, worse than before. Like all of the cavalry, she was in uniform, cap, padded undertunic, metal and leather cuirass, then her uniform jacket, breeches and high boots. It was summer … she shouldn’t have been cold. But she was.

She cursed softly as she stood beside the horse she’d been assigned, a sedate, overfed chestnut mare that had to be kicked into a trot. “I can’t believe this,” she muttered to Jezzil, who was standing beside her, holding Falar. “My first bedamned battle, and do I get to fight? No! I get stuck back behind the lines with the First Battalion, Company Two, of the Royal Dragoons. Who are being held as
reserves
. And that means we’re downhill from the front lines, and we can’t even see. It’s not fair!”

Jezzil grunted noncommittally.

She shifted restlessly. “I feel like a mouse shut up in a corn bin. How do we know the enemy is even out there?”

“Scouts,” Jezzil reminded her.

“Scouts, yes, of course,” Talis admitted sourly. “But we’re back here, and we’ll be lucky if we can even see what’s happening. Much less get to fight. And after I spent all that time training with you. I should—” Hearing herself, she broke off with a faint snort of laughter. “Listen to me, I haven’t heard such whining since my horse stepped on the hound’s foot.”

There was a long pause, then she sighed. “I can’t seem to stop talking,” she whispered. “Or shivering.”

His head turned and he glanced at her. “You’re just keyed up,” he said. “You’ll be fine.”

Minutes crawled by as the reserve company stood to horse, waiting. A faint glow in the eastern sky appeared, growing steadily brighter. Finally, the commanding officer of their Cavalry Reserve Unit, Major Sir Arcoli q’Rindo, rode down the ranks. “Company Two, mount up!”

Talis’s heart slammed in her chest, and she barely had the presence of mind to check the girth and tighten it. The mare, who went by the unimaginative name “Lady,” backed her ears and swung her head around as she felt the strap tighten.

“Don’t even
think
about biting me,” Talis muttered, raising a fist. Chastened, Lady turned away.

Moments later she was up, sitting beside Jezzil, checking to make sure her weapons had not been displaced during her mount.
Both pistols, sword, knife, all in place.
She pulled her cap down over her forehead, adjusting the strap under her chin. Her hands were shaking, and she was glad that, in the darkness, no one could see.

Major q’Rindo was more visible now, astride his handsome bay, wearing his broad-brimmed, plumed hat. Talis thought she could almost make out the bright blue of his jacket, with its scarlet facings and gold braid.

At the sound of a cantering horse she glanced to her left.

A dark shape approached, a runner. The man drew rein before Major q’Rindo and saluted. “Sir, Colonel His Grace Bilani requests his officers to join him in a personal reconnaissance of the field.”

The colonel was in command of all the reserve cavalry units, Major q’Rindo returned the salute. “Acknowledged,

Adjutant.” Then the major turned his head and looked directly at Talis and Jezzil. “You two, come with me.”

Talis had realized early on that the officer was watching them, probably under orders to do so. Of course the Pelanese didn’t trust either her or Jezzil—she was a known rebel, and Jezzil was Chonao.
What does this mean?
she wondered.
Has he changed his mind about having us in his
company? Or does he just want to keep us near him?

Jezzil was already urging Falar forward, out of ranks, and Talis chirruped to Lady to follow them. The stodgy mare resisted for a second, then as Talis thunked her in the ribs with her heels, grudgingly moved out. “What does this mean?”

Talis hissed to Jezzil as they followed the major. “Are we in trouble?”

“Shhh!” he admonished, but under his breath added, “It means you get your wish, and we’ll be able to see what’s happening.”

They moved forward and to their left, riding behind the infantry units until they were a long stone’s throw downslope from the nearest artillery crew. When they reached the highest point on the slope, they found the colonel and the other officers, and joined them.

Mounted, on the highest ground, they had an excellent view of the Pelanese infantry, spread out before them in neat ranks. Talis could see the pass, now that it was light enough to make out shapes. She picked out the lighter swath of the road, off to her right. Straining her eyes, looking east, she made out two large, dark blobs perhaps a mile away. They seemed to be moving.

Glancing at Jezzil, she whispered, “The Chonao army?”

He nodded. “Advancing.”

In the east, facing her, the darkness grew lighter …

lighter. Time suddenly seemed to be rushing by. As she watched, a thin streak of crimson fire touched the eastern horizon, illuminating the bottom of a massive cloud bank.

Sunrise. Now it begins.

From her vantage point, she watched as the Sun’s rays illuminated the mountain peaks. The snow on the highest peaks gleamed pink as the Sun rose.

Talis watched the dark blobs on the field, still in deep shadow, creeping forward. Then, as the newly risen Sun’s light touched the Pelanese forces, throwing long shadows, she heard it—a deep, booming drum, sounding a clear pattern.
Boom da da BOOM … Boom da da BOOM …

Falar reacted immediately, snorting, dancing in place, ready to spring forward. Jezzil kept her still, muttering what sounded like imprecations in his own language. The air was full of voices now, Pelanese officers issuing commands to “Load and stand ready!” and the artillery officers barking orders to their gunnery crews.

“What’s happening?” Talis said, turning to the Chonao.

She could see him now, his features shadowed by the helmet, saw the tightness of his jaw.

“They’ve signaled a cavalry charge!” Jezzil replied, and she heard the strain in his voice. “I can’t believe it! What do they think they’re doing?”

Below them, the dark blobs were surging forward as the Chonao lines moved faster. Talis could hear the riders urging their mounts on. They were trotting, then cantering, then galloping …

“Arenar blast them!” Jezzil muttered. “What was Kerezau
thinking
?”

Sunlight flashed golden on the tips of lances and raised swords as the Chonao cavalry hurtled toward the enemy front line, now barely half a mile away. Two thousand troops running flat out, heading straight for the Pelanese.

Talis’s breath caught in her throat as the enemy charged up the gentle slope, bursting into the sunlight as they did so. The light found them, bright colors flashing from the uniforms of the various units. Their horses were magnificent, the pounding of their hooves shaking the earth beneath Lady’s feet.

The riders were yelling their battle cry now. Lancer units leveled their lances.

Talis’s breath caught in her chest as she stared, half mesmerized by the power and majesty of that charge. She realized

that if she’d been in the front lines of the Pelanese infantry, she’d have turned tail and run, and was ashamed to realize it.

The riders charged, and they were closer, closer … the ground shook with the thunder of galloping hooves.

Then the air around her erupted with the voices of the Pelanese artillery officers, all shouting more or less at once.

“Fire! Fire! Fire!”

To Talis’s right and left cannons belched flame and smoke as they discharged, straight into the oncoming charge. The sharp smell of burned gunpowder filled the air. Gaps appeared in the Chonao ranks as horses and men went down.

Talis saw scarlet splashes of blood, mixed with hunks that must have been severed limbs and chunks of flesh, all flung high into the air.

Men and horses screamed in agony.

Oh Goddess!

The sight was so horrible that she felt dizzy and faint. She clung to her saddlebow with both hands, closing her eyes, shaking her head to clear it.

As the cannons fired again and again, she heard the Pelanese officers. “First rank, fire!” A volley of shots, then moments later, “Second rank! Fire!” Then “Third rank!

Fire!” And then over again, and over again, the volleys of gunfire cracking sharply in the dawn air.

Even though they were firing into the rising Sun, the sharpshooters took deadly toll, picking off individual riders, felling horses by the dozens, the hundreds. Talis glanced over at Jezzil, saw that he was slumped, staring down at Falar’s neck, and remembered that these were
his
people.
Goddess,
oh, Goddess, make it stop!
Talis found herself praying.

But the slaughter went on and on.

The Chonao lines were ragged now, their ranks diminished to less than half … and still they came on, and still the cannons and the gun volleys cut them down. It was harder to see now, because the air was filled with smoke so acrid it stung Talis’s eyes, making them water. Or was it tears? The roar of the cannons went on, nearly deafening her, making her head throb with each salvo.

In the end, only perhaps five hundred Chonao riders reached the front lines, driving into them like a lance point into living flesh. The Pelanese infantry lines sagged and folded in places, and all Talis could make out were flashes from the muzzles of pistols and the gleam of swords against swords as they met in fierce hand-to-hand combat. It seemed to take only a minute before the remnants of the Chonao were engulfed, and the ranks of the Pelanese surged forward again in a wave of blue tunics.

Talis coughed, rackingly, as a heavy cloud of smoke rolled over their position. Leaning to the side, she spat, trying to catch her breath. When she could see again, the only trace of that brave, foolhardy charge was a few riderless horses galloping madly between the two armies, amid the scattered bodies. The screaming, much diminished, continued.

Now the two armies were firing at each other, volley after volley, as the Chonao infantry advanced and the Pelanese held their ground.

Major q’Rindo coughed genteelly into a handkerchief, then signaled to Talis and Jezzil. “Well, that’s that,” he said.

“Time to return to reserve position.”

Talis was only too glad to turn Lady’s head and urge her back to rejoin Company Two. The Sun cast her shadow before her, elongated and dark, and she realized that it had been bare minutes since she was complaining about not being able to watch the fighting.

Well, you wanted to see,
she thought miserably, wiping her stinging eyes as another cannon salvo sent more smoke to join the pall already hanging in the air.
So much for the glory
of war.

Eregard, too, had been sickened by the carnage, but as the morning wore on, he was too busy to dwell on the past. He rode at his father’s side, behind the front lines, in the middle rank of the central infantry brigade with his father’s Royal Guards. This was his first time in battle, but he’d listened to war stories all his life from veteran soldiers, so he was at least somewhat prepared. They sat their horses on the left

side of the brigade, only a short musket shot from the ravine he and Jezzil had examined the day before yesterday.

So far things were going according to plan for the Pelanese, and, despite the fact that they were outnumbered, their front line was holding fairly steady. They had been pushed a little farther up the slope by yet another Chonao cavalry incursion into their front lines, this one far better orchestrated than the disastrous one at sunrise. The Chonao infantry had moved in from the side, at an angle, and before they could be stopped, got close enough so the artillery could not fire directly at them because Pelanese troops were in the way. Once in place, they’d fought fiercely, doing considerable damage to several front-line infantry ranks before Pelanese sharpshooters cut them down.

Now King Agivir sat his great white warhorse, ca-parisoned with the royal blue and crimson, orchestrating the battle and consulting with Prince Adranan, Prince Salesin, and his other commanders by means of runners mounted on Pela’s swiftest steeds. Eregard gazed at his father with pride, thinking that years seemed to have fallen away from his sire.