"Got it," the cavalryman said, glad to have orders, even if they were mildly crazy. "You do realize that there are over two thousand of them, right?"
"Fine," Roger said. "Just get them to the stream, and Turkol will do the rest. Oh, and when you get close, you'd better start sounding your horns."
Roger strode along the line of digging riflemen and grinned.
"I thought you New Model Army boys could dig! What are you, a bunch of women?"
A shovelful of wet dirt, half mud, came flying out of the darkness and hit his chest in answer.
"We're so good we can hit you in the dark, Sir!"
"As long as you can hoist them as well as you throw them," Roger said with a laugh. "We've got about two thousand Boman coming at us, so I think you're going to appreciate a wall in a little bit."
"Don't worry, Your Highness," one of the riflemen said. "We're not afraid to die for the God."
A quote came to mind. Roger couldn't remember who'd said it, but it sounded like Miranda MacClintock.
"You're not supposed to die for your God, soldier. You're here to make sure the other poor sod dies for his."
"Nice," Bes said as Roger walked back to the command post. The low wall and fighting trench the soldiers were erecting was backed with a small bastion for the commanders. Considering that they'd only been working on it for half an hour, it was quite an accomplishment.
"It was a quote," the prince admitted. "I swear, every good military line has already been used by somebody." He looked at the developing defenses and shook his head. "Very nice. I suppose if we can't win with this, we don't deserve to. I wonder how it's going north of the river?"
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
"Yes, Sir. I understand," the sergeant said.
"If I had a 'qualified officer' to replace you with, I would," the Marton Regiment's adjutant said. "To tell the truth, if I'd had a qualified officer to replace Lieutenant Fonal with, I would have."
"Yes, Sir. I understand."
"You don't sound like it," the battalion commander put in with a serious expression. "You sound petrified."
"I'll handle it, Major Ni," Krindi Fain said. "I'd just expected to be replaced. At most, I'd figured I'd handle the route march. But fighting them? I'm not sure I know how."
"Just do what you're told, soldier," the CO said. "I'm giving you a temporary rank of full lieutenant. You taught most of them the drill, so don't tell me you don't know it yourself. Just do what you know."
"Yes, Sir," the Diaspran began again, then checked himself. "I really do understand. And will comply."
"Okay," Ni said with a gesture of support. "Get to it."
Fain found himself walking back through the temporarily stopped division, wondering where and how he'd gone wrong.
"What's wrong, Fain? You look like somebody shot your dog."
He looked over at Julian and made a gesture of resigned horror.
"I'm in command of the company."
"Yeah," the Marine said. "I thought that might happen."
"I'm not real sure about this," Fain admitted. "It's a lot of responsibility."
"So was the training you gave them," Julian pointed out. "Same deal. Just get up there, and do what comes natural. Remember every good leader you've ever known and copy them. Slavishly, if you have to. And never let them see you slime." For some reason, the Marine found this last humorous.
"Okay," the Diaspran said.
"Here." The human dug into a pouch and pulled out a twisted piece of metal.
"What's this?" Fain asked, turning it over and over in a true-hand.
"First battle I was ever in," the Marine said, "I caught that piece of shrapnel. I held onto it for good luck. I sort of figured if I had it, I'd never get hit again. Don't know why. But it's always been a lucky piece for me."
"What are you going to do without it?" the Diaspran asked.
"I'm not going to need it for this battle," Julian said, tapping his armor. "The Boman hasn't been born that can crack this stuff. You take it. I'll be okay."
"All right," Fain said. "Thanks. And may the God of Water protect you."
"It's not me you have to worry about," the squad leader said, hefting his stutter gun.
Kny Camsan grunted in laughter.
"So that's what those shit-sitters were doing! There's an army back at Sindi, and they were trying to get back to it."
"That's nothing to laugh about," a subchief said sharply. "All our loot is back there, not just the loot from Sindi. And our women."
"Sure," the war leader replied with another grunt. "And so are ten or twelve thousand warriors with Mnb Trag to keep them on their toes. Which means their stupid army is still going to be sitting in front of the walls waiting when we get back. This was just a big spoiler raid. They wanted to suck us away from Sindi so they could get the rest of their army into position."
"Maybe," the subchief said. "If that was the idea, it worked, though."
"Of course it did," Camsan agreed. "And how much good is it going to do them? We've got the entire host almost fully assembled now, and the shit-sitters aren't just outside their walls, they're outside ours, with every warrior we have ready to come right up their backsides. They probably figured that they'd get all of our warriors out of Sindi to chase their cavalry, but they didn't, and their smart-ass plan has them stuck out where we can get at them in the open!"
"Maybe," the subchief repeated. "But we're having a hard enough time with these shit-sitter cavalry. Those new weapons of theirs are tough."
"Not tough enough now that we know where they are and what they're trying to do," Camsan shot back. "When we overrun the iron heads, we'll take their new weapons for our own. And then we'll overrun their army at Sindi and take their weapons, too. And when we've done that, there will be no army to man the walls of the Cove, and we'll overrun them, as well!"
"Let's hope it goes that way," the subchief said gloomily, "but so far, the iron heads have been doing much better out of this than we have."
"Listen up!" Bistem Kar's powerful voice boomed over the gathered infantry division. "So far, this whole war has been going for the Boman, but we're taking it to them now. The only thing that stands between us and victory is that the cavalry is trapped in there."
He gestured over his shoulder to the deep woods.
"We're going to go in there and find them. It won't be hard." There was an uneasy chuckle at that, for the crackle of gunfire was clear in the distance. "Then we're going to open up a hole and let them out. Then we march back to the city.
"I won't kid you; this is going to be a tough fight. But we can do it. All you have to do is aim low and obey your officers. Now, let's go give the Boman a little taste of what war with K'Vaern's Cove means!"
"Lieutenant Fain," the battalion CO said, "we've been tasked with putting out a company of skirmishers. Do you know the difference between skirmishing and regular fighting?"
Light was just beginning to filter through the trees, but there still wasn't enough to see your hand in front of your face, much less distinguish a white thread from a black. The entire march from the city had been made in inky darkness, and only the sheer insanity of it had prevented complete disaster. After all, the Boman had known no one would be crazy enough to try it, so why bother to set up ambushes along the route? Now, with dawn approaching, the infantry was arrayed to pry the cavalry out of its trap. If it could.
"Skirmishing means to spread out and move slow," the Diaspran said in reply to the question. "Move from cover to cover. You're trying to find the enemy force. When you do, you engage them at maximum range from cover. You try to slow them up and figure out how they're deployed, but you can't let yourself get pinned down by them, or they'll kill you."
Major Ni sighed.