"And they aren't killed?"
"Corporals are hardly ever killed by conscripts. Officers, now, have to be a little careful."
I wanted her to explain that, but the juice-drum cut in again, and I realized with a kind of horror that I recognized the particular rattle and bang as the call to breakfast. Of course, there was a kind of horror associated with breakfast, too.
I tried forcing plain coffee down my throat, but only managed a swallow before I had to give up. Around me, everyone was swilling the stuff like it was peach brandy. I shrugged and ate a few biscuits, washing them down with water. Then I wandered back toward our tent, and only then noticed that, during the night, dirt had been piled up between us and the enemy camp, forming a kind of wall. Okay, now I knew what earthworks were.
Someone I didn't recognize came by and dumped a pile of javelins in front of the tent. Aelburr, who was standing there, picked up three of them, Virt did the same. That left six. I looked at them, then at Virt, then I picked up three of them.
Aelburr said, "You know how to use one of these?"
I thought he was asking about the javelin until I noticed he was handing me a whetstone. Wisecracks passed through my mind, but I only said, "Yes," and took it. He passed me a small flask of oil. There was already, all around, the scraping sound of weapons being sharpened. I added my voice to the chorus, but I only sharpened the javelins and my sword; I was feeling a bit bashful about my collection of nasties.
The bloody damn drum called out again. I hadn't heard that drum call before, and I hated it that I could tell it was unfamiliar. I asked Aelburr what it was. "It's called," he said, " 'Corporal's Tears.' It means squad leaders report to the Captain. They're getting final instructions for the battle." My heart skipped a beat, but I kept my face expressionless.
"Loiosh, keep your eyes opened for a good time to make myself scarce. Preferably before the fighting starts."
"Noted, Boss."
I continued sharpening javelins. Virt said, "How far did you throw that thing?"
"About sixty-five or seventy yards."
"All right, ignore the first command to launch; if you wait for the second they should be in about the right place. The first throw is just for annoyance anyway; the last two we send at them quickly, and you can aim."
"From that far away we should have time for more than two casts."
"You'd think so, wouldn't you? But over this kind of terrain, you'd be amazed at how fast they can cover ground at a charge. Depending on what sort of troops we're up against, of course."
"Do the javelins do any good?"
"A little. We dent some shields, anyway."
"Shields? They have shields? Why don't we get to have shields?"
"Do you know how to use a shield?"
"Uh … no. But still they'll have them."
"Probably. As I said, depends who we're up against. If it's cavalry, they won't have shields, but then we'll have other problems."
"Cavalry?"
"Or it might be a spear phalanx, in which case the javelins will be pretty much a waste of time, and we'll have to countercharge and try to flank them. It's up to the enemy what they throw at us. That's the advantage of attack."
"So, what do we have instead of shields?"
"We're light infantry. We have javelins and the capability to maneuver quickly."
"Oh, good."
"Boss, why do you care? You won't be there."
"I know. But I can't help thinking about what it would be like. This is no place for a self-respecting assassin."
"You knew that all along."
"Not viscerally."
The engineers came by, with more dirt to unload, build up, tramp down. I realized for the first time that as they went they were also digging a ditch in front of the thing. Virt and I watched them.
I said, "What do they do when it rains?"
"Hope there's a lot of wood around."
"For what?"
"For"
And the juice-drum started up again.
"I've heard that one before," I said.
"Strike camp."
"Ah."
I was able to be a bit more help this time, and soon we had our backpacks in place, and, with our stools packed, we sat or knelt on the ground. There was no sign of the camp except for the pits where the fires had been. Then there came another call, this one I didn't recognize. "Let's go," said Virt. "Leave your pack by this mark and take the line."
"All right."
She walked toward the earthwork. Rascha motioned us toward a position, and I found myself between Virt and Napper. Napper wasn't scowling now; his eyes gleamed and as I watched he licked his lips, then bit them, first the top, then the bottom, then licked them again, and repeated.
"You okay?" I said.
"This," he said. "This is what it's all about."
"Oh," I said.
"Here they come," he said, his lips pulling back into a grin.
Oh, good. I was about to take a step back and get myself lost behind the lines when I noticed Virt looking at me. I stuck my javelins in the earthwork in front of me, drew my sword, and transferred it to my left hand. Maybe they'd throw something back at us and I could pretend to be hit, roll backward, and get out that way. No, that didn't sound practical. Maybe
Virt clapped me on the shoulder. "You'll do fine, Easterner. Everyoneat least, everyone who isn't an idiotis a little nervous before his first battle. You're worried you won't stand up to the test. It's normal. But once things get hot, you'll do fine. Trust me."
I'd never heard that line before, but it still sounded trite. For how many soldiers had words like that been the last thing they ever had spoken to them? Damned reassuring.
They appeared in a line in front of us, all at once. A whole lot of them. More than there were of us, I thought. They seemed to be walking at a steady pace, and I guessed the distance at about two hundred yards. A long way.
"Heavy infantry," said someone.
"Aim low," said someone else.
Virt tapped me on the shoulder. I jumped, but she was polite enough to ignore it. She said, "Their shields won't be long enough to protect their legs, and they'll naturally raise them once we release our javelins, so"
"Got it," I said.
I guessed there were at least four or five thousand of them, which was more than ten times the number of our Company. Of course, it was more than just our Company on the line. I wondered how many of us there were all together. Not as many as there were of them. Soon they were close enough so that I could see they carried spears.
"Conscripts," someone said. "They'll break if we make it hot enough for them."
Napper was gnashing his teeth next to mm, as if it were all he could do not to charge out at them. Aelburr, just beyond him was tapping a javelin against the ground and whistling.
"Boss, what are you waiting for?"
"I can't run while she's watching me."
"Why not?"
"Because … I don't know. I just can't."
"Boss … "
"Loose javelins!" came the call from somewhere, and everyone except me did so. The enemy had gotten much closer, say a hundred yards away, and as our javelins flew they broke into a run. The flight of the javelins looked like we'd picked up a piece of black metal and thrown it as a body, dropping in on an enemy
"Loose javelins!"
who might not even have noticed for all the good they did, as I threw mine and instantly lost sight of it, and then I remembered that I was supposed to aim low, but the idea of aiming was beyond me as I picked up my second, readied it and