I suddenly felt Daymar's presence in my mind. It was shocking, and not entirely pleasant. For one thing, I'm not used to people I hardly know being able to communicate with me psychically; for another, well, imagine being gently picked up by a relative stranger who you can tell could crush your body with one hand if he wanted to. Sure, I said gently, but he's still a stranger, and he could still crush you. As I said, I did not terribly care for the sensation.
"What do you want?" he asked in a sort of psychic whisperas if he were being very careful not to burn my brain out.
I said, "That fellow, him. That's Fornia."
"Well?"
"I want to know what he's up to."
"Certainly," he said, as if I'd asked him to pass me the tray of sweetmeats. Just how good was he, I wondered. I mean, his mind was strong, and he'd clearly trained it, but was he good enough to pull the information I wanted out of Fornia's mind? Well, he'd pulled information out of Kragar's mind.
Thinking of Kragar makes me, in retrospect, realize just how far away from my own world I was. He had picked exactly the wrong moment to get in touch with me, and then I never heard back from him until I thought of it, days later, when we were positioned to make a charge or await one in front of the Wall. I had suddenly thought of it, then, and gotten in touch with him.
"Kragar? It's me."
"Howdy, Vlad. How's the army life?"
"You should know."
"I tried to warn you."
"For the most part I hate it," I told him, "but then people try to kill me and I really hate it."
"It wasn't the trying to kill me part I didn't like, it was all the rest of it."
"I can sympathize with that. What was it you wanted?"
"A guy wants to open up a new game in our territory."
"A guy? What guy?"
"Don't know him. Jhereg, seems small time. He's willing to give us our usual cut, and he's willing to provide his own protection, but I didn't know if that would be too many games for the area."
"That was a while ago; what did you do?"
"I told him to go ahead."
"And?"
"Seems all right so far."
"Okay. Good. Anything else?"
"No, everything's quiet."
"Wish I could say the same."
"Oh?"
"Building up to a big battle here."
"I assume you're staying out of the battles."
"Not exactly."
"What? You're fighting? In the line?"
"I haven't always been able to avoid it."
"Do something conspicuous and you might make corporal."
"Let Loiosh make the wisecracks, Kragar. He's better at them."
"Sure, Vlad. Anything else?"
"No, I'll talk to you later."
I stared out at the place where the enemy gathered. It suddenly occurred to me that if Kragar had done something conspicuous no one would have noticed. That might explain some things that I'd never ask him about. As good an explanation as any.
I found Napper was watching me. I guess I don't always hide it well when I'm communicating with someone psychically.
"If your lips didn't move, Boss, it would"
"Shut up, Loiosh."
"Well?" said Napper. "We got something to do?"
I shook my head and went back to watching the enemy gather across the field. There were now banners on most of the other hills, including the ones Virt had said we should have taken when we got here.
Someone came walking down the line passing out biscuits and cheese. I had several of the biscuits, ate the cheese, and drank some water. I turned back to Napper to ask him why he was so damned eager to get killed when there came the rattle of the juice-drum again, another call I didn't recognize. I knew, however, that I wasn't going to like it, because Napper broke into a grin.
"What's that one?" I said.
" 'Time to Be Alive,' " he said. "It means to form up for a charge."
" 'Time to Be Alive,' " I repeated. Is that someone's idea of irony?"
He didn't answer.
Rascha came along and placed us where she wanted uselbow to elbow, hardly room to move. I realized that this was the first time I would be taking part in a charge; everything I'd done up to that point involved standing there and keeping the enemy from overrunning us; from our success, I was not encouraged about being on the other side. Napper was on my left, Aelburr on my right.
The Captain came out in front of our line, riding a dark-colored horse that seemed much too small for him; his feet didn't reach the ground, but it seemed like they could if he just stretched a little. The effect was vaguely comical. He spoke in a loud voice that carried easily, though he didn't seem to be shouting.
"We will," he announced, "be attacking light infantry, very much like ourselves. They have no bulwarks nor ditches, and they number significantly fewer than ourselves; however, we will as you see, be attacking uphill. We will go at a brisk march, charging the last hundred yards. We will take the hill and hold it until relieved." No one commented on the fact that yesterday we could have taken the hill by walking up it and planting our colors.
He continued, "I will expect you to maintain formation until we meet their lime. We will have additional support from the sorcerers corps, especially defensive. If we keep our lines dressed and strike quickly, I do not anticipate any difficulty. That is all. Attend to your squad leaders."
He rode off to the far end of the line, drawing his sword as he did so. It seemed like a functional sword; maybe he'd use it. I hadn't recalled seeing him in any of the action hitherto. But I might not have noticed.
Crown took a position in the middle, just ahead of us. He, too, was holding his sword. I realized my pulse had quickened. I said to Virt, "Do they have javelins?"
"Probably," she said. "Almost certainly." Then, "Do javelins worry you?"
"Not at all," I said. "I'm looking forward to trying to catch one in my teeth."
"That's what we need: fighting spirit."
I assumed she was being ironic, but I couldn't tell for certain. Crown gave a signal, and the colors moved out. The rest of us followed.
"War," Sethra Lavode once explained to me, "consists of missed opportunities alternating with narrow escapes, and it usually ends when someone, somewhere, fails to commit a timely error." If I'd had that discussion with her before the Wall of Baritt's Tomb, it might have done me some good. Or, I don't know, maybe some harm; in any case, I wouldn't have been as surprised by what happened.
We went forward, straight into an unmoving mass of warriors. They stood shoulder to shoulder about halfway up the hill. The hill, by the way, had a long and gentle slope, deceptively gentle. It looked like it might be possible to run up it without being winded well before you reached the enemy position. This turned out not to be the case. I was already breathing heavily before we broke into a run, and so were Virt and Aelburr. We kept getting closer, and I kept wondering how I was supposed to fight in this condition. And at the same time I was both dreading and longing for the signal to charge.
And then they launched their javelins at us.
When we had thrown, it had seemed as if we had launched a single, vast, sheet of metal at the enemy. Now I was on the other side, and it seemed just like that. Then, I had wondered how the enemy kept coming at us; I still wondered. Now, after it is all over, I still wonder.
But I kept moving.
Then Crown waved his sword, and the colors surged forward, and I heard Rascha's voice, somewhere to my left: "Charge!" I couldn't go any faster up the hill, but everyone around me was able to, so I did too, and the effort distracted me from noticing what effect, if any, the javelins had had on our forces. Then they launched a second barrage, and this time I noticed: Virt stumbled and went down, and I remember thinking that I wished it were possible to stop and help her, and I still don't know why it wasn't, but I kept running. There was a horrid yelling, and I realized that I was making some of the noise myself.