I felt great. Lady, though, seemed to be having trouble moving with her usual fluid grace. And everybody knew what that meant, the smirking freaks.
"I don't understand you, Captain," Mogaba protested. "Why won't you lay it all out?"
"What only I know inside my head only I can betray. Just assemble up on the stakes I had put out and offer battle. If they accept, we'll see how it goes. If they don't kick our butts, we'll worry about the next step."
Mogaba's lips tightened into a prune. He did not like me much right then. Thought I didn't trust him. He glanced over to where Cletus and his bunch were trying to assemble shovels and baskets and bags in numbers enough for an army. They had a thousand men out scouring the hill farms for tools and more baskets and buckets and had men sewing bags cut from the canvas coverings from the wagons.
They knew only that I had told them to get ready for some major, massive earthmoving.
Another thousand men were out trying to forage timber. You need a lot of timber to invest a city.
"Patience, my friend. Patience. All will be clear in due time." I chuckled.
One-Eye muttered, "He learned his trade from our old Captain. Don't tell nobody nothing till you find some gink trying to shove a spear up your butt."
They could not get to me this morning. He and Goblin could have had them a fuss as bad as back in Taglios and I'd have just grinned. I used a wad of bread to finish soaking up the grease on my plate. "All right, let's get dressed and go kick some ass."
Two things to be observed about being the only guy in forty thousand to get some the night before. Thirty-nine thousand nine hundred ninety-nine guys are so envious they hate your guts. But you're in such a positive mood it becomes infectious.
And you can always tell them their share is behind those walls over there.
Scouts reported while I was getting into my Widowmaker rig. They said the enemy was coming out of the camp and the city both. And there were a lot of the bastards. At least ten thousand in the camp, and maybe every man from the city who could be armed.
That bunch would not be thrilled to be headed into a fight. And they weren't likely to be experienced.
I arrayed Mogaba's legion on the left, Ochiba's on the right, and put Sindawe's new outfit in the middle. Behind them I put all the former prisoners we'd been able to arm and hoped they did not look too much like a rabble. The front formations looked good in their white, organized and professional and ready.
Intimidation games.
I had each legion arrayed by hundreds, with aisles between the companies. I hoped the other side would not be smart enough to jump on that right away.
Lady grabbed my hand before she mounted up, squeezed. "Tonight in Stormgard."
"Right." I kissed her cheek.
She whispered, "I don't think I can stand to sit on this saddle. I'm sore."
"Curse of being a woman."
I mounted up.
Two big black crows dropped onto my shoulders immediately, their sudden weight startling me. Everybody gawked. I scanned the hills but saw no sign of my walking stump. But we were making some kind of headway here. This was the second time everybody else saw the crows.
I donned my helmet. One-Eye stoked the fires of illusion. I assumed my post in front of Mogaba's legion. Lady moved out in front of Ochiba's bunch. Murgen planted the standard in front of Sindawe's legion, ten paces in front of everyone else.
I was tempted to charge right then. The other side was having a fire drill trying to get organized. But I gave them a while. From the looks of them most of the ones out of Stormgard did not want to be there. Let them look at us, all in neat array, all in white, all ready to carve them up. Let them think about how nice it would be to get back inside those incredible walls.
I signalled Murgen. He trotted forward, galloped along the face of the enemy showing the standard. Arrows flew and missed. He shouted mockeries. They were not terrified into running for it.
My two crows flapped after him, and were joined by thousands more who came from the gods knew where. The brotherhood of death, winging it over the doomed. Nice touch, old stump. But not enough to make anybody run away.
My two crows returned to my shoulders. I felt like a monument. I hoped crows had better manners than pigeons.
Murgen did not get enough of a rise first pass so he rode back the other direction, yelling louder.
I noted a disturbance in the enemy formation, moving forward. Someone or something seated in the lotus position, all in black, floating five feet off the ground, drifted to a halt a dozen yards in front of the other army. Shadowmaster? Had to be. I got a creepy feeling just looking at it. Me there in my spiffy but fake outfit.
Murgen's taunts got somebody's goat. A handful of horsemen, then a bunch, lit out after him. He turned in the saddle and shouted at them. There was no way they could catch him, of course. Not when he was on that horse.
I grumbled. The indiscipline was not as general as I wanted.
Murgen dawdled, letting them come closer and closer—then took off when they were only a dozen yards away. They chased him right into the maze of tripwires I'd had woven into the grass during the night.
Men and horses sprawled. More horses tripped on animals already down. My archers lofted arrows that fell straight down and slaughtered most of the men and horses.
I drew my sword, which smoked and smoldered, and signalled the advance. The drums beat the slow cadence. The men in the front rank slashed the tripwires, finished the wounded. Otto and Hagop, on the flanks, had trumpets sounded but did not charge. Not yet.
My boys could march in a straight line. On that nice flat ground they kept their dress all across their front. That had to be an impressive sight from across the way, where they still had guys who hadn't found their places in ranks.
We passed the first of the several low mounds that spotted the plain. The artillery was supposed to get up on that one and mass fire wherever it seemed appropriate. I hoped Cletus and the boys had sense enough to harass the Shadowmaster.
That critter was the big unknown quantity here.
I hoped Shifter was around somewhere. This whole thing could go to hell if he wasn't and that bastard over there cut loose.
Two hundred yards away. Their archers lofted poorly aimed shafts at Lady and me. I halted, gave another signal. The legions halted, too. Very good. The Nar were paying attention.
Gods, there were a lot of them over there.
And that Shadowmaster, just floating there, maybe waiting for me to stick my foot in it. Seemed like I was staring up his nostrils.
But he did not do anything.
The ground shuddered. The enemy ranks stirred. They saw it coming and it was too late for them to do anything.
The elephants thundered up the aisles through the legions, gaining momentum. When those monsters passed me the guys over there were already yelling and looking for somewhere to run.
A salvo of twelve ballistae shafts ripped overhead and spattered around the Shadowmaster. They were well aimed. Four actually struck him. They encountered protective sorceries but battered him around. Very sluggish, the Shadowmaster. Keeping himself alive seemed to be his limit.
A second salvo hit him an instant before the elephants reached his men. The ballistae had been laid even more carefully.
I gave the signal that sent my front four thousand men, and the cavalry, howling forward.
The remainder of the men formed a normal front, then advanced.
The carnage was incredible.
We drove them back and back and back, but there were so damned many of them we never really broke them. When they did flee the majority made it into the camp. None got back into Stormgard. The city had closed its gates on them. They dragged their Shadowmaster champion with them. I would not have bothered. He had been useless as tits on a boar hog.