The imp materialized, perched on my mount's neck. "What you need, chief?" I filled him up with orders I wanted relayed to Murgen, to Otto and Hagpp, to Sindawe, to damned near everybody I could think of. Some ordered next steps of the plan, some involved innovations.
The morning had been remarkably crow-free. Now that changed. Two monsters, damned near as big as chickens, settled on my shoulders. They were nobody's imagination. I felt their weight. Others saw them. Lady turned to look at them.
A flock passed over the battlefield, circled the fortress, settled into the trees along the riverbank.
The enemy infantry was across. Their train was getting organized to follow.
Thousands of the Shadowmasters' men were down. I doubted they had the advantage of numbers anymore. But experience had begun to tell. My Taglians were giving ground. I felt the first flutters of panic nipping at their formations.
Frogface materialized. "Couple wagons with ballista shafts came in, chief."
"Get them up to the engines. Then tell Otto and Hagop it's time."
Maybe seven hundred horsemen had straggled in from Numa by then. They were dead tired. But they were in place and ready.
They did what they were supposed to do. They stumbled up out of the cover of the creek. They sliced through the chaos behind the enemy line like the fabled hot knife through butter. Soft butter. Then they came back across the hillside, cutting at the back of the enemy line. Like scythes felling wheat.
Murgen came over the hill behind me, displaying the Black Company standard boldly. Sindawe's bunch were behind him. Murgen halted between Lady and me, a few steps back.
The artillery began feeling for the range to the fortress. Goblin and One-Eye and maybe even Shifter had been at work, using little charms to decompose the mortar between stones.
"It's going to work," I muttered. "I think we're going to do it."
The cavalry sortie did it. They did not get sorted out for another charge before men began running for the ford. The second charge bogged down in the sheer mass of fleeing men. Mogaba, I love you.
The men he had trained did not break formation and charge. He and Ochiba hustled up and down their lines, getting the ranks dressed and the injured out of the way. Ballista shafts were knocking stones out of the fortress wall. The captains up top gawked. A few of feeble courage abandoned the battlements.
I raised my sword and pointed. The drums started. I began walking my mount forward. Lady kept pace, as did Murgen and the standard. One-Eye and Goblin worked up a more terrible glamor around us. My two crows shrieked. They could be heard above the tumult. The enemy train was all crowded up the other side of the ford. Now the teamsters fled, leaving them blocking the retreat of their comrades.
We had them in a bottle, the cork was in, and most of them had their backs to us. The grim work began.
I continued my slow advance. People stayed away from me and Lady and the standard. Archers on the battlements tried dropping me, but somebody had put some pretty good spells on my armor. Nothing got through, though for a while it was like being in a barrel somebody was whacking with a hammer.
Enemy soldiers began jumping in the river and swimming for it.
The ballistae had a good range, all their shafts striking in a small area. The watchtower creaked and grumbled. Then rumbled. A big chunk fell out, and soon the whole tower collapsed, taking parts of the fortress wall with it.
I pushed into the river, across the ford, and on up between wagons. The standard and Sindawe's men followed. The only enemies I saw were heeling and toeing it south.
Amazing. I never struck a blow myself.
It was almost workaday stuff for Sindawe's bunch to begin clearing the wagons, for some to worm through behind Murgen and cover him while he planted the standard on the fortress wall.
Fighting continued on the north bank but the thing had been decided. It was over and won and I did not believe it. It had been close to being too easy. I had not used all the arrows in my quiver.
Though chaos continued around me I took out my map case to check out what lay to the south.
Chapter Thirty-seven: SHADOWLIGHT: COAL-DARK TEARS
Rage and panic contended in the fountained hall at Shadowlight. Moonshadow mewled dire prophecies. Stormshadow raged. One maintained a silence as deep as that within a buried coffin. And one was not there at all, though a Voice spoke for him, dark and mocking.
"I said a million men might not be enough."
"Silence, worm!" Stormshadow snarled.
"They have obliterated your invincible armies, children. They have forced bridgeheads everywhere. What will you do now, whimpering dogs? Your provinces are a prostrate and naked woman. A two-hundred-mile jaunt behind the Lance of Passion and they will be hammering at the gates of Stormgard. What will you do, what will you do, what will you do? Oh, woe, what hast befallen thee?" Insane laughter rolled out of that black absence in the air.
Stormshadow snarled, "You haven't been a whole hell of a lot of help, have you? You and your games. Trying to catch Dorotea Senjak? How well did you do? Eh? What would you have done with their Captain? Did you have a bargain in mind? Some deal to trade us for the power they bring? Did you think you could use them to close the Gate? If you did you're the greatest fool of all."
"Whine, children. Moan and wail. They are upon you. Maybe if you beg I'll save you yet again."
Moonshadow snapped, "Bold chatter from one without the ability to save himself. Yes. In the traditions of their Company they caught us off balance. They did what is for them old routine: the impossible. But the fighting along the Main was just one move in the game. Only a pawn has vanished from the board. If they come south, every step will carry them a step nearer their dooms."
Laughter.
The silent one broke his fast of words. "There are three of us, in the fullness of our power. But two great ones dog the path of the Black Company. And they have little interest in furthering its goals. And she is a cripple, feeble as a mouse."
More laughter. "Once upon a time someone named the true name of Dorotea Senjak. So now she is the Lady no more. She has no more powers than a talented child. But do you believe she lost her memory when she lost those powers? You do not. Or you would not accuse me as you have. Perhaps she will grow frightened enough or desperate enough to confide in the great one who changes."
No retort. That was the dread that haunted them all.
Moonshadow said, "The reports are confused. Still, a great disaster has befallen our army. But we are dealing with the Black Company. The chance has always existed. We have prepared for it. We will regain our composure. We will deal with them. But there is a mystery from the fighting at Ghoja. Two dire figures were seen there, great dark beings on giant steeds that breathed fire. Beings immune to the bite of darts. The names Widowmaker and Lifetaker have been breathed by those who stood with the Black Company."
This was news to the others. Stormshadow said, "We must learn more about this. It may explain their luck."
The hole in the air: "You must act if you do not want to be devoured. I suggest you put aside terror, eschew squabbling, and cease the dispensation of accusation. I suggest you think of a way to go for the jugular."
No one replied.
"Perhaps I will contribute myself when next fate tries to take its cut."
"Well," Stormshadow mused. "The fear has at last penetrated as far as Overlook."
The bickering resumed, but without heart. Four minds rotated toward thwarting that doom from the north.