Kara smiled uncertainly at that. Was that intended as a jest, she wondered, or was Kendurkkel reminding her that his loyalties were for sale? She thought she’d won more of the dwarf mercenary’s respect than most, and that just maybe he’d feel a little more allegiance to the Hulmaster cause than some other employer, but the fact remained that the Icehammers were mercenaries. Mercenaries had a bad habit of following the gold, and more than one battle had been lost by a company switching sides because of a better offer, or simply deciding to stand down while a contract was “renegotiated” to their liking. She’d never heard any such story of the Icehammers, but there was a first time for everything. She glanced at the dwarf, trying to gauge his mood.
“Well, it’s old Marstel himself,” Kendurkkel said in surprise, nodding at the riders approaching from the council army. “Hadn’t expected that. And that captain next t’ him is Edelmark of Mulmaster, I think. Dun’t think I know the big fellow with them. No sign o’ the wizard.”
“I think that’s Miskar Bann, the chief of the Veruna concession,” Kara said. She frowned and studied the approaching riders. Marstel looked vaguely ridiculous in a plumed helm and a parade-ground suit of half-plate that was fitted around his broad belly, but he rode better than she would have expected. In fact, he looked in better health than she’d seen him in years. His eyes were bright above his stiff white mustache, and he wore an expression of bluff confidence as he reined in his heavy charger ten feet short of Kara’s party. Marstel’s followers lined up alongside him.
Marstel studied Kara, Sarth in his likeness of Geran, and Kendurkkel Ironthane. Then he snorted. “Well?” he said. “You have something you wish to say to me?”
Kara fixed a stern look on him. “Maroth Marstel, you are a murderer and a usurper. I call on you to lay down your arms and surrender yourself to the rightful lord of Hulburg. All who have oppressed and harmed the people of Hulburg will be held to account, but we will spare the lives of your warriors and your captains if you surrender. This is your opportunity to make answer to the charges against you.” She paused, then added, “I don’t much care if you find your death on this field today, but your armsmen follow a fat old fool, and they deserve a chance to make restitution for what they’ve done. They won’t be able to do that when they’re dead.”
Marstel flushed in anger, but it was Edelmark who spoke next. “Bold words,” he said to Kara. “We’ll see how far your righteous indignation carries you when our cavalry’s cutting you to pieces and our runehelms are smashing your lines.” He looked over to Kendurkkel, and smiled coldly. “You would’ve been wiser to pass on this contract, Master Ironthane. It’s not too late to reconsider.”
“It’s been a long walk from Thentia,” the dwarf answered. “Hardly makes sense t’ turn back wi’out havin’ a go at ye, Edelmark.”
“Good,” said Miskar Bann. He glared at Sarth in his magical disguise, and slapped his left knee, which was encased in a brace of leather and iron. “I came here for a fight, anyway. I owe you for this limp, my lord Hulmaster. I’ll be looking for you on the field!”
Sarth shot Kara a quick look before he answered the Veruna captain. Clearly Bann knew Geran and had some grievance with him, although the tiefling had no idea what it might be. Sarth fixed an angry glare on Bann and snarled, “Then I’ll give you one to match on your other leg, if you insist!”
“I’m waiting for an answer,” Kara said.
“To that ridiculous ultimatum?” Marstel snarled. “You’ll have it soon enough, my dear. Your tired little rebellion ends today. No quarter, asked nor given.”
“Fine,” Kara said flatly. “No quarter asked, no quarter given.” She nodded sharply to Sarth and the standard-bearer, and the Hulmaster party wheeled their horses and cantered toward their own lines. Behind them, Marstel and his officers galloped off as well.
“I suppose we’ll be earnin’ our keep today,” Kendurkkel said as they rode back.
“So it seems,” Kara answered.
“Who was that Veruna captain?” Sarth asked.
“I wasn’t there, but I seem to recall that Geran crossed swords with a couple of Veruna armsmen at Erstenwold’s last year, just before his duel with Anfel Urdinger,” Kara replied. “He carved them up pretty badly. I think Bann might’ve been one of them.” She took a moment to study her dispositions from the front as they rode back. The tents and wagons of the Hulmaster encampment lay within the wide expanse of ruins that adjoined Rosestone, but all three shields of her army, and the Icehammers as well, now stood to arms along the remnants of the wall that had once encircled the abbey’s large outer bailey. The ruined walls weren’t much of an obstacle, but they offered some amount of cover, and the attacking force would be channeled toward the open spaces between the remaining wall sections. The old abbey building itself anchored their right flank; the Icehammers held that end of the Hulmaster line. Captain Wester’s First Shield waited in the center of their lines, and Captain Merrith’s Third Shield in a tangle of ruined outbuildings at the left flank. Larken’s Second Shield guarded the rearward approaches to the old bailey. The Amaunatori friars who still lived in the abbey’s intact portions had retreated to their chapel, hoping to stay out of the way.
The Shieldsworn cheered as they passed back into the lines. Kara nodded to Sarth, who slid down from his mount and hurried back out of sight in the abbey ruins again, and signaled for the shield-captains to join her. In a moment, Wester, Brother Larken, Merrith, and Kolton gathered around.
“I take it Marstel refused to kiss his own fat arse when you told him to?” Wester asked.
“No, he politely declined.” Kara smiled, but her eyes were fixed on the field in front of her. She studied distances, imagined maneuvers, and considered countermoves, all in the space of a few moments. “Larken, I want your shield to stand back off the line. You’re my reserve. As for the rest, we’ll stand our ground and let them come to us. We’ve got more bows than they do, and we’ll make them pay in the open ground.” She glanced around behind her, studying the lay of the land behind the Hulmaster camp. “I don’t think it’s likely, but if for some reason we’re driven out of the camp, fall back on the round hill there. That will be our rallying point.”
“Aye, Lady-Captain,” her captains answered.
“All right, get to your shields. No one’s to move from our lines without my signal. May Tempus favor you all.” Kara waited as the captains galloped off to their own companies, and quickly set their ranks in order. She rode over to take up a place near Brother Larken’s company, where she could keep an eye on the whole battle and choose the right time and place to commit the reserve.
Across the space between the armies, she could see the standards of the various merchant detachments riding away from Marstel’s banner, returning to their own companies. It seemed that the false harmach’s forces had finished with their own deliberations and were ready to advance. Several trumpets sounded from Marstel’s banner; the Council Guard ranks murmured and stirred, marching forward. The wind rose, making their banners ripple and snap in the breeze; the distance between the armies began to shrink.
“The enemy cavalry’s on the move,” Sergeant Kolton said from beside her. The old veteran was in charge of the small knot of bodyguards who stayed close to Kara and Sarth.
“I see them,” Kara replied. Between the Jannarsks, the Iron Ring, and the Verunas, there were close to two hundred enemy horsemen to keep an eye on; they rode out from behind the enemy left and positioned themselves to harass her right flank, where the Icehammers were posted. “Kendurkkel can hold them at bay.”
“Shall we open fire?” Larken asked her.
Kara shook her head, waiting for Marstel’s soldiers to march closer. She didn’t want her soldiers wasting arrows, and more importantly she wanted her enemies well within the killing ground when the first blows began to fall. When the distance between the ranks was half a bowshot, she nodded to her standard-bearer. “Vossen, signal the shield-captains: volley fire!”