«Thank all the gods you're not,» said Pardes to that. «Jores and I might be able to manage with one of you in Karan. In fact, we'll have to. But two of you?» He threw up his hands in mock despair.
In the middle of all the work, Blade found time to commission the Emperor's personal sculptor to carve tombs for Gursun and Tera. He could at least do this to make sure that his Nessiri comrade and his Scadori wife were not entirely forgotten in Karan.
Jores elevated Blade to a dukedom, and presented him with the most dazzling suit of armor Blade had ever seen. It was gilded all over, and studded with jewels and silver inlay work. Fortunately it was also robust and well-designed. Otherwise Blade would have declined Jores' admonition to «wear it when you lead against the Scadori.» He was not going into a pitched battle in junk armor to please six Emperors!
The agreed-on master strategy was simple. A solid mass of infantry would swing around the Scadori northern flank and move to the Pass of Scador. That force would have to go on foot, since there would be no fodder to support a mounted army along that route. They would block the Scadori line of retreat.
Then the main army would march straight into the Scadori-held territory. It would have more regiments of Imperial infantry, all the freed slaves and volunteer recruits, and most of the cavalry. If the enemy did not assemble, they would be destroyed piece by piece. If they did assemble, the main army would engage them while the other came up from their rear. If they retreated, they would find the pass blocked and end up caught between the two armies.
It was so simple and foolproof a plan that Blade was quite certain something would go badly wrong. He could hardly believe that this whole confused and grim trip into Dimension X could end so simply.
The days moved on into winter, and the flanking force of infantry marched off toward the northwest. With the rivers frozen they had a long chilly walk before they were in position. Blade stood in the cold to watch the column move out of sight, then returned to his own work.
More days. Then just before sunset one evening a messenger on a half-dead horse came thundering up to the palace. Bloodstained bandages were around his head and one arm. Sheer panic distorted his voice as he stammered out his report.
The Scadori had massed and were on the march. They were headed east, straight for Karanopolis, brushing aside patrols and devastating the countryside as they came. At the rate they were moving, they would be under the walls of the city in barely ten days.
What about the flanking force of infantry? The first messenger didn't know anything about them. Before the night was over a second messenger came in with the answer to that question.
The flanking force had lost a large part of its strength in a surprise attack as it moved around the Scadori flank. The commander promptly entered the nearest town with the survivors and started fortifying it. Now there was no hope of the infantry catching up with the Scadori before they reached Karanopolis.
Jores cursed when he heard that news. «I knew I should have sent either you or Pardes to command that force,» he told Blade. «What General Tharsos has done will cost him his head, but it may cost Karan a great deal more.»
Blade nodded grimly. The original neat plan of campaign lay in shattered pieces around them. In fact the situation was more dangerous than ever before. «If the Scadori do appear before the walls, there will be panic in the city. In that case I would not give much for the chances of the Coral Throne.»
«Perhaps,» said Jores. «But let's see what we can do to prevent that situation from coming to pass.»
Blade shrugged. «There's only one thing we can do, Your Majesty.»
«What's that?»
«March out, with what we have available here, and meet the Scadori in the field.»
«Risk Karan on the outcome of one battle?»
«Yes.»
«I wish-but no, even an Emperor's wishes will do no good here.» Jores slapped the hilt of his sword. «This is all that can save us now. You are right, Blade. We shall march.»
Chapter 24
Richard Blade sat on his horse in his gilded armor, the red cloak of a general of the Empire whipping around his shoulders in the cold wind. It blew straight from the west, and carried with it the sounds of the advancing Scadori army.
From the top of the ridge, Blade could see the enemy spread out across several miles of countryside. It was not just the warriors of Scador, either. Before the snows closed the pass, the women and children and slaves had come down from the plateau to join their men in Karan. Now they sat in the circles of tents and captured wagons behind the battle line, waiting for the outcome of the day's fighting.
If the day's fighting went against the Scadori, it would mean the end of their whole people, not just their army. If the day's fighting went against the Karani-well, there was nothing in the field between here and the walls of Karanopolis, and precious little to hold the walls if the enemy got that far.
Blade looked behind him at the Karani army taking position to his right and rear. There were three solid masses of Imperial infantry in that battle line, one in the center and one at each flank, about five thousand of them. Behind the center stood the cavalry, including the last Regiment of the Guardians of the Coral Throne. But the rest of the infantry were hastily mobilized and even more hastily trained volunteers of one sort or another. The rest of the cavalry were either volunteers or Nessiri slaves who hoped to kill Scadori and win their freedom today.
The grand total was perhaps twenty-five thousand. It was an army that might fight valiantly. It might also fall apart at the first collision with the enemy, and it certainly could not maneuver well.
Fortunately Blade and Pardes had brought their army to within sight of the enemy, and the Scadori would do the rest. They could not resist the temptation to strike at an enemy offering himself. Over there they would see only that one good blow could give them Karan and final victory over their ancient enemies.
Blade hoped his own army saw that as clearly. But even if they did, it could hardly make up for their lack of training. Well, he had done all he could. Time to take his bodyguard and put himself in position, preferably well forward. This was an army that would like to see its generals getting shot at.
The battle started even before Blade could get into position. The Scadori charged in the center, a solid column of them with their improvised cavalry protecting either flank. Blade and his guards spurred their horses to a gallop, racing along the Karani line toward where the fighting had exploded. The cloak and the silvery plume on his helmet flowed out behind him as he rode, and cheers followed him along the line.
He reined in just out of bowshot of the Scadori and a little in front of the Karani line. The Scadori were swarming forward, slashing with swords and hurling spears. On their left they were meeting Imperial infantry, and they weren't getting anywhere. But closer to Blade they were striking the volunteers from Karanopolis and the frontier farms, tough, battle-hardened warriors against recruits. The Karani lines were already swaying back and forth ominously.
Other men were hurrying toward the threatened section of the Karani line. But that could end up by thinning out other parts of the line too much. Damn! There had to be something to do beside just standing here and slugging it out toe-to-toe all the rest of the day. With an army of Imperial infantry Blade could and would have tried it. But against the army he had now the Scadori probably were better, man for man. The slugging match could lead to a Scadori victory. At best it would end with both armies lying on the frozen ground, dead practically to the last man. That would bring both peoples down in final ruin.