“With all due respect,” she answered him, “you would not be here at all, Commandant, with all your grand experience, if I had not healed you. I would think you might give me the courtesy of hearing me out without interruption, in gratitude.”
She glared defiantly at him, and he sighed. “Quickly, then,” he said. “We haven’t much time. And whatever we do, it will be my decision.”
“Agreed,” she said. “Commandant, the Hirzg has more war-teni than we do, and they’re better skilled in their arts than those I have been able to muster. Would you agree with that assessment?”
He shrugged. “Envoy ci’Vliomani did surprisingly well,” he said. “I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it with my own eyes. But, yes, I agree.”
“Then, as you’ve already suggested, we lose this battle if we fight them as they expect.”
“What else do you suggest, Archigos?” It was difficult for Sergei to keep the condescension from his voice.
“Their war-teni have already used much of their strength in the first attack, and in that way they’re no better than any other teni-if they use the Ilmodo, they will become exhausted. So I suggest we let them use their spells. . but not on us.”
Sergei’s eyes narrowed, causing the skin to wrinkle around his false nose. A suspicion began to take shape in his mind. “And how do you suggest we can accomplish that?” he asked.
The Archigos shrugged. “You’ve already said it, Commandant: you believe what you see with your own eyes.”
Jan ca’Vorl
The horns sounded “Halt,” and a page came riding wildly down the line to Jan’s carriage. “The Garde Civile holds the road and the fields ahead,” the page said. “They’re drawn up in battle formation, at least three full battalions.”
“This far from the walls?” Jan said. “If I were the commandant, I would have taken them closer to the city. But. .” He shrugged.
“U’Teni cu’Kohnle! You’ll ride forward with the Starkkapitan and me to see this.”
“My Hirzg,” ca’Cellibrecca called from his carriage behind Jan’s. “I will go with you.”
Ca’Cellibrecca was already struggling to rise from his seat, and Jan heard cu’Kohnle sigh. He nearly sighed with him. Jan waved at ca’Cellibrecca to remain. “Stay here, Archigos,” Jan ordered. “You can. . pray for the outcome of the battle.”
“Vatarh, may I come also?” Allesandra asked. “I’d also like to see. How else can I learn, now that Georgi’s gone?”
He nodded indulgently, stroking her hair. “Bring our horses forward,” he called to his attendants. “We’ll ride without banners.”
The sun was heavily westering and the weather had deteriorated, with storm clouds gathering behind Nessantico. The light was dim, and an odd fog clung close to the ground-the Fen Fields were reputed to be haunted and fogs were common here, though generally not in the afternoon. They rode up a small rise toward the front of the Firenzcian column and paused to look down.
The line had halted at a bend in the Avi. There, beyond the long curve, was a field where thick lines of men in blue-and-gold livery waited. Spears hedged their ranks, and the banners of chevarittai fluttered just behind them, moving along the lines as if the chevarittai were impatient for the battle to start, ready to burst through. “There are more of them than before,” Jan said. “The Kraljiki has emptied the city of troops. Good. That will make things easier. Semini, how are your war-teni?”
“Tired from the last attack, my Hirzg, but we’re ready,” the u’teni answered. A small smile curled his lips under his beard. “Those Numetodo-tainted fools will be rather more exhausted than us, I would think.”
Jan chuckled. “Starkkapitan?”
“Their troops are badly positioned, my Hirzg,” ca’Linnett said. “It’s difficult to tell in this damned fog, but I don’t think the lines are deep. They’re too far out from the trees and the river will hem them in further. Let the war-teni and archers take as many as they can, and concentrate on the middle of the line along the Avi. I’ll loose the chevarittai there.”
He pointed north of the Avi, where the trees grew thickest. “They can move them into position while the war-teni attack. Then we’ll drive our infantry straight at where we’ve weakened them-down the Avi-while the Red Lancers take the wing. Drive hard enough and fast enough, and we might still make the city gates before sunset. If ca’Rudka or the Kraljiki have any sense at all, they won’t try to hold the entire North Bank of the city; they’ll pull back near the ponticas.”
“Allesandra?” he asked his daughter, seated in front of him. She tilted her head back to look up at him.
“Can I watch from here, Vatarh, where I can see it all?”
He tousled her curls. “We both will,” he told her. “Starkkapitan, I leave it to you. Send my attendants and pages to me. U’Teni cu’Kohnle, you may start the attack when your war-teni are ready.”
Ca’Linnett and cu’Kohnle bowed low and rushed away. Calls went out along the lines, horns blared and flags waved, and the Firenzcian line spread out slowly to either side of the road. Half a turn of the glass later, they heard the boom and thunder of fire-spells arcing out from just behind the front of the line, followed by the hissing of flights of arrows. The sputtering, roaring glares-a full dozen of them-traced smoky lines over the intervening yards between the armies. Jan watched them, waiting to see if the defensive spells of the Nessantico war-teni would take some of them, but they continued on without resistance, and the men shouted in triumph as the fireballs crashed into the opposing lines, tearing great holes through them. They could hear shrieks of alarm and pain, but except where the fireballs crashed into them, the Nessantico lines held.
“Vatarh?”
The war-teni loosed another barrage, larger than the first, and these also streamed unchallenged across the field to plow into the ranks on the other side. More men fell. The screams redoubled, but other men in yellow and blue slid into the gap. Jan frowned; the opposing war-teni might have been sapped, but he doubted that they had no ability left to counter the spells. Why were they waiting, when their people were dying? This was slaughter, not battle. He wondered how they could possibly hold. .
“Vatarh!”
As a third volley of fire-spells sizzled across the landscape, Jan glanced down at Allesandra. “What, little bird?”
“Look at them, Vatarh,” she said. “Really look at them. The ones next to where our spell-fire strikes; they’re not moving. Not at all.”
As the next wave of destructive suns raced over the field, he did watch-not to where they struck but to the side. It was difficult to see through the smoke and fog, through the gathering dark under thicken-ing clouds, but he saw that Allesandra was right. There was an unnatural stiffness to the soldiers alongside the blasts of the war-teni. They didn’t flinch, didn’t cower, didn’t run. They stood upright, always looking forward, their heads not turning at all as their companions were consumed in fire.
The spell-fire ripped through them as if they were stones thrown through a painted canvas.
“We’ve been deceived. .” he breathed, but it was already too late.
The ranks of enemy Garde Civile shredded away entirely, like smoke driven by a gale. Fire-spells came now from the Numetodo: not from the ghostly ranks before them, but from the southern flank, fire-spells raking the Firenzcian lines. Not far distant came the clashing of arms and the pounding of hooves, and Jan saw the Nessantico chevarittai leading a charge, soldiers in yellow and blue pouring in from the river side of the Avi. “There!” he shouted to his aides, pointing. “Sound the horns! Quickly!”