He looked up at the Imperial banner swaying in the breeze. “There’s not been a prince since the creation of the Nine who has not dreamed of fighting beneath an Imperial banner. Well, perhaps Cyron is an exception, but I certainly was not. When I came to Moriande, I was a step from killing Cyron, but he asked a curious thing of me. He asked me not to destroy so much that I could not build again. I saw empire as a political entity, but he saw it as the lives of the people.”
Pyrust glanced down, the hint of a smile on his face, clearly remembering Cyron’s words clearly. “My mortal enemy gave me that vision, and now it is my responsibility. I will fight here because it is my duty to do so. I would fail in my responsibility if I did not think about what might happen if I fail.”
I watched him closely. “Are you going to tell me to pull my people back and not fight them?”
He turned and poked his half hand against my breastbone. “What I will ask you is to follow orders, my orders, no matter what they are. Count Vroan will not. He will obey until he sees a way to cover himself with glory, then my orders be damned. I will see to it he has his glory.”
“Posthumously.”
“It is for the best.” Pyrust held his maimed hand up. “I know war well. If there is a point where things are hopeless, I will need you to organize a fighting retreat. If we fail here, the kwajiin will reach Moriande unopposed. If they can break our force, then the defense of Moriande will require wise leadership.”
“Perhaps, then, we should change places, Highness.”
“No. My people will fight for you, but they will never stop fighting for me. It is a difference that will mean much tomorrow.”
I bowed deeply to him. “I shall abide by your orders, Highness.”
“Thank you. And soon we shall laugh about my caution in the Empress’ court.”
“Better we do it in the Illustrated City. We’ll share wine from a cup fashioned of Nelesquin’s skull.”
Pyrust smiled. “This we shall do, Master Soshir, this we shall do.”
No one in my command appreciated the bargain I’d struck, but I understood their feelings. Captain Lumel and the Virine wanted revenge for their nation. My xidantzu lived to protect others through their skill at arms. Being held back grated on their souls. I reminded them that reserves would win the battle and this mollified them somewhat.
Morning dawned dim and cold. The rain had slackened into a chill drizzle. The clouds remained low, so the leather-wings did not venture high in the sky. The archers mounted on them did little damage, though our archers were not terribly effective either, save one. Penxir Aerant, a xidantzu archer and giant of a man who used a bow longer than I was tall, shot an arrow at a retreating leather-wing. The shaft hit its target on the downside of an arc. It passed through the driver’s back and into the beast’s neck. The broadhead must have severed a nerve. The right wing spasmed and folded in. The hellbat splashed down, spilling the dozen kwajiin archers riding it. The Desei militia sent several volleys after the survivors, killing half of them.
Our side took this to be a great victory. I thought their celebration premature. Though stuck through with arrows, the other half of the kwajiin made their way out of the swamp by themselves. At least one man yanked an arrow from his leg and took his place in the ranks again.
In war, the object is to destroy those you face. An enemy that does not die easily is to be feared. The kwajiin formations were full of such men, all of whom carried swords and long spears and woven wicker shields that had been covered with cloth. Clan badges covered the shields. The warriors had gathered tightly together, so that their formation became a wall bristling with spears.
The kwajiin leader had split his force into three, each corresponding to the three wings in our force. He allowed gaps between his wings, but filled those with his beasts. The xonarchii hauled stones forward and tossed them out into the marsh. We laughed at first, then realized the creatures could wade out to them and throw them again.
I didn’t see any of the woolspiders or wall-climbers, but their use in such an open field was questionable. I likewise saw none of the flying, poison-spitting toads that had been used with some success during the siege of Kelewan. Nor did I see any of the vhangxi, and that was just as well. Those toad-men had a mouthful of teeth that would make a shark flee.
Pyrust’s strategy was simple enough: make the kwajiin pay for every inch of ground with blood. Forcing them to march over muddy ground and attack uphill would be costly. If Pyrust could bring his cavalry into play, to encircle the enemy and flank him on the right, the whole formation might collapse. That seemed like the most viable strategy, and I would have expected it to work save for one small detail.
Ranai Ameryne saw it and pointed. “This is not how the kwajiin arrayed themselves at Kelewan or when they killed the Iron Bears.”
“They’ve shifted strategy. Concentrated like that, they are more likely to punch through our infantry. We have a looser formation so we can use swords.”
“And that tight formation will make it tougher for horses to charge.” She nodded at the marsh. “That will be a lake of blood before noon.”
Below us, Pyrust emerged from his tent. He raised his right hand and snapped a white fan open. Down within the troop formations, drums began to pound. Archers ran forward through the infantry position, nocked arrows, and let fly. Though none of them had the skill of Penxir Aerant, the arrows arced into the enemy formation. The rear ranks raised their shields, forming a roof. Arrows hit, quivering in the shields. In a couple of places men fell, but the ranks closed quickly enough.
On the other side, the kwajiin general exited his tent and climbed up onto the back of one of the long-necked draft beasts. Its back was broad enough to have held the man’s command tent, but he stood there alone on a small platform. The driver moved the creature forward. Even as far away as we were, we could easily hear the sucking sound of its feet being pulled from the mud.
As his beast came forward, the kwajiin executed a complex maneuver. Both wings contracted, closing the gaps. The wings then faced the rear and marched back in unison. Their formation went from a curved line, to a three-sided box open at the far side, gathering the larger creatures in the center. Once they’d gotten into position, they faced outward again, setting their spears and shields.
For Pyrust’s militia to attack, they’d have to move forward into the swamp. Vroan’s troops had an easier approach over more solid ground, but they’d still have to ford the swollen stream.
Once the kwajiin had reordered their position, they marched at us. I marveled at their precision. Spearpoints did not waver. The flanking units kept pace even though they were marching laterally. Plunging into the edges of the marsh did slow them; they came on as a unit with the xonarchii and draft beasts in their midst.
Pyrust exchanged his white fan for a red one. The drum cadence changed. Our arrows filled the air. Kwajiin fell, and their blood ran into the swamp-though not nearly enough for my taste. Within our lines, the cavalry began to maneuver, with three regiments pulling out of the center and starting around the right flank.
The cavalry would sweep around and get behind the kwajiin force. They would strike from behind, forcing them to flee into the swamp or onto our swords. Given our superior numbers and position, it was a flawless piece of strategy. Had I been in Pyrust’s place, I might well have given the same orders.
As the cavalry thundered around in their flanking maneuver, Vroan pushed his wing forward. They moved out of pace with the other Naleni troops, who were still awaiting an order to advance. This created a gap. Pyrust flashed a signal with a fan and half his militia reserve trotted over to reinforce the breach.
On the left, his other militia unit heard the drums and mirrored Vroan’s advance. They came on a bit more raggedly, but not disastrously so. But Pyrust saw their error, and signaled to them to halt. Their leaders shouted orders and the troops straightened out their lines.