Blade nodded. «I want them there more to hold our own people in position than to fight. I'm going to take all the cavalry around our right and hit the Scadori on the flank. If the snow gets much thicker I'll be able to make the move a complete surprise, and roll them up from the flank.»
«I see,» said Jores. «But you'll have to take the cavalry off to the rear to do that. The recruits may think they're being abandoned, and-«
«That's exactly why I want the Imperial infantry behind the main line. If they can prop it up for just about another hour…»
«You'd better move fast, then,» said Pardes. «Before too much longer the snow will be too thick on the ground for the cavalry to charge.»
Blade nodded and spurred his horse off toward the rest of the cavalry without another word. Pardes was right. There was no time to do anything except put his plan into action. It should work, for the Scadori could not stand against an all-out charge delivered by surprise. Of course, if it didn't work, it would hardly be honorable for him to survive. But if it didn't work, his chances of surviving were too small to worry about in any case.
He moved out with just over three thousand men, about equally divided among Guardians, volunteers, and Nessiri. He would have liked a few hundred more, but sheer numbers weren't going to be the decisive thing now. It would be a surprise charge, driven home with all possible force, or it would be a disaster.
They rode off into the swirling snow until the battle line was out of sight, then swung to the left. Trees and baggage wagons acted as landmarks and helped Blade navigate. Three miles in a straight line, and then another turn, once again to the left. Still another three miles, the hooves of the horses now thudding on snow covered ground. The cavalry was not only moving invisibly, it was moving as silently as an army of ghosts. They could hardly hope for a better chance for surprise. If they could only drive the charge home in the right place-
Now they were moving back in toward where the Scadori flank and rear should be. The snow drew a swirling gray curtain across the countryside and the wind whipped any battle sounds away before they reached Blade. He led his bodyguard out in front of the advancing column and spread it out in front of a wide scouting line. Word went back through the column: check your saddle girths and weapons, be ready to swing into line at the signal from Duke Blade's trumpeter. Blade knew none of the cavalry except the Guardians could really maneuver, but sheer enthusiasm could get them lined up fast enough. They all had reasons to fight-dead comrades, freedom, or lost homes. Blade wiped melting snow off his face and checked his own weapons.
They rode on, and still the gray curtain swirled across the countryside ahead of them. Here there were no convenient landmarks to tell them how far they had come. Blade found himself trying to count the steps of his horse. He also found himself trying not to hold his breath, like a nervous child in a dark room, or think about what would happen to Karan and its army if he wound up leading the cavalry aimlessly off into the blizzard. At this rate the snow on the ground would soon be too deep for the cavalry to charge or the infantry to retreat, then-
Then he saw them, less than half a mile ahead-a circle of wagons, tents, and draft animals. Another circle lay beyond it, then a third that was only a faint dark smudge against the snow. It was the Scadori baggage train, with the women and children. Now Blade knew where they were, and where the Scadori army should be. Unless the Karani had collapsed in the meantime, and the Scadori were chasing the fugitives away across country. That could have happened. But if he rode on any farther to find out for sure, he would certainly lose the surprise he needed.
Blade knew that here, in these few moments on this snowy field, he held the fate of both Karan and Scador in his hands. He did not let his mind dwell on that fact for more than a few seconds, though. He turned his horse until its head was aimed off toward where the Scadori army ought to be. Then he gave Zogades a thumbs-up. Zogades signaled to the trumpeters. They raised their long trumpets to their lips and started blowing the call to form line for the charge.
They blew longer and louder than Blade thought human lungs could manage. By the time the last blast died away the line was practically formed. As Blade had expected, the formation was ragged, with volunteers and Guardians and Nessiri all shoving and jostling each other. But he had never felt such a spirit in any army as he felt in the three thousand horsemen behind him.
He waited a moment longer, to give the trumpeters a chance to catch their breath. He drew his sword and raised it high over his head. Then he slashed it down through the snow flakes. The trumpets sounded again, blowing the charge, and the three thousand horsemen surged forward.
At first Blade had the impression of watching a silent film run in slow motion. The horses had trouble working up to a gallop, and until they did the snow muffled the thunder of hooves to a faint murmur.
Then the battle lines of the two armies loomed out of the grayness, half a mile ahead. The trumpeters blew again, without orders, for sheer delight in making noise. The noise seemed to lift the whole charge forward like a physical force. The horses moved up smoothly from a trot to a canter to a gallop, swords came out, lance points dipped, and now the thunder of three thousand sets of hooves pounded at Blade's ears. He waved his own sword and roared out:
«For the Emperor! For Karan! For your homes and your lands and your dead! Onward, and strike them! Onward!» The cheers that rose behind Blade drowned out the sound of the hooves and the swelling roar of the battle ahead. He went on shouting, though he could no longer hear himself. He went on shouting, because it somehow seemed that if he stopped shouting the whole charge would fall apart and he himself would fall down into the snow. That was a mad thing to believe, but Blade knew that in this moment he was just a bit mad.
He went on shouting and the men behind him went on cheering as they swept past the Scadori baggage train. A few spears and arrows shot out from the wagons and tents as they passed-Scadori women and old men doing what little they could. Blade was still shouting and the men behind him were still cheering when the charge struck the Scadori at a full gallop.
Blade had organized and delivered the kind of charge that can win a battle in a matter of minutes. This one did just that. The entire battle turned against the Scadori in the three minutes after Blade's charge struck home, as their battle line folded up on itself like an accordion. The charge trampled or slashed or speared down four thousand warriors in those few minutes, without losing more than a handful of cavalrymen. Of the other hand, Scadori half lost their formation and piled up in a tangled mob. Most of the rest lost not only their formation but their nerve. They started to drift, then to run, toward the rear.
Then Pardes and the Emperor together led the Karani battle line forward at a run, Imperial regiments and recruits all mixed together. Nobody was bothering about formation, nobody was afraid any more, nobody was thinking of anything except closing with the Scadori and killing and killing until there weren't any more to kill.
In half an hour the battle was over. Blade could never remember a single detail of what he did from the moment the charge struck home. The first thing that stuck in his mind was sitting on his horse as Pardes and the Emperor rode up to him, grinning triumphantly. He had lost his lance, and his sword was back in its scabbard. He drew it, and realized that he hadn't struck a blow with it in the whole battle. Well, there were enough Scadori dead without his help.