Silence returned to the scene and faces turned to watch the two men. Duke Certinse took in Isak, bigger even than when he'd left Tirah, and nodded curtly. He was obviously unhappy about being in the presence of someone whose image overshadowed his own. He walked over to Isak, and, as Vesna had done to him, he held out the hilt of Lomin's Torch to Isak and grudgingly touched the dragon-ring on Isak's hand. Certinse might be a duke now, and thus outrank Isak, but the Krann had been given specific command of the army and so carried BahPs authority in lieu.
Behind Certinse, a page had the hem of his cloak bunched in his hand. The boy's pudgy face was frozen in fear and Isak's sharpened senses caught the faint stink of urine. He couldn't blame the boy, having to come to within a few feet of such a monstrous figure, but he doubted the duke would be so forgiving.
Isak reached out and touched the pommel of the weapon. Certinse flinched in surprise as Isak probed its potency, one finger resting on the figure of a wolf sleeping with nose tucked under its bushy tail. The runes he felt were strong and simple, except for one that gave Isak a sense of bloodlust, a hunger to burn and ruin the flesh of the twisted creatures now advancing.
The rune felt as if it had recoiled at his touch and he withdrew his hand hurriedly. He didn't want to know why it had done that. He might not know much about magic yet, but he was positive some forbidden process had made this. At its very core, the sword knew the taste of elves – it had been quenched in the blood of one.
'Rise; we can play formalities some other time.'
'As you say.' Certinse's voice was cool as he stood. 'You received my man with news of their forces?'
'We did,' broke in General Lahk, stepping forward to take control of the discussion. Vesna had already told Isak that Certinse would try to lead the battle if given the slightest opportunity. 'Suzerain Tori has command of four legions of cavalry – he went ahead two days ago to harry their movements. How many men have you managed to bring
from Lomin?'
'All the infantry I could muster: four legions of spear and one of archers. None of the town garrisons have had a chance to get here, but with luck the rangers might be able to find a secure path for some to reach the battle in time.'
'We're short on archers then, with so many light cavalry away, but it will have to do. From what we've scried of the enemy, they have far greater numbers, although most are on foot. The group trying to outflank us is entirely horse; that means they won't want to move the main bulk very far.'
They'll take the northern end of the Chir Plain then.' 'You know it?' Lahk waved a hand behind him and immediately one of his staff thrust a map-scroll into it. Another man brought a table and the map was unrolled on it.
'Here's the plain,' said Certinse, his finger stabbing down at the map. Isak moved forward to look over Lahk's shoulder. With a grunt the general slid around the table to afford Isak a better view. The curves and lines meant little to the Krann but he kept quiet. A wagoner knew the lie of the Land from his own travels and the accounts of others, not paper, but he had to learn.
'There's a rise that runs much of that side, we can ride hidden behind it, but if they try to go over they'll be in trouble. It's too rocky to get down that slope. They will have to wait until they reach the cleft where a small river cuts the ridge. It's wide and brings you right round the other side of the plain.' 'What else is there?'
'The river. That cuts through the ridge like this and runs that way – it's not deep, though. There's a steep, flat-topped rise here.' Certinse moved his finger north-east of the river. Nothing was indicated on the map, but neither duke nor general looked surprised. There are some old fortifications on top, nothing significant, but it's a safe place to have a good view of the field. Other than that, there's a slight up-slope running east and a nice big space to pick them off in.'
'What will the river be like at this time of year?' interrupted Isak.
He'd dragged enough horses through enough rivers swollen by autumn rain as a child to know how difficult it would be for an army.
Certinse glanced up, a flash of irritation on his face, but replied, 'Not too bad; even with the rain we've had it'll still be possible to cross.'
'Good,' declared General Lahk in a decisive voice. That's where we'll attack. We can take the heavy cavalry through the ridge there and hit the enemy in the side.' 'Alone?'
'Not quite. Your legion of archers will be on that rocky slope, protected by one of the Lomin spear legions. We have one legion of light cavalry with our group, and a division will skirmish ahead to draw the trolls off that rise-'
'How do you know they will be there?' the duke interrupted. 'It's protected from cavalry, therefore that is where the trolls will go, ready to attack our heavy cavalry once we commit it. The division will be doused in every bottle of perfume and scent our fair knights have brought with them. My Ghosts have already searched the baggage of every man with us. Your hurscals will submit to the same, Duke Certinse.'
The young man went red with anger at being ordered about by a white-eye, but Isak's question came out first. 'Perfume? Have you gone mad?'
'Firstly, the scent of trolls on the wind will alarm the horses,' the general explained calmly. 'Hopefully, this will help mask their stench, which in turn will help us to keep our order tight. Secondly, a troll relies on scent and hearing – they can only see very short distances. The archers will also be burning all the incense our priests have. I am assured that the direction of the wind will be favourable. By moving quickly enough, and with any help the mages can provide, we can at least anger the trolls. They will follow the unfamiliar smell as much as the movement of the cavalry, and when our horse break south, out of the way, I believe they will falter in confusion.' That's lunacy!' cried Certinse.
The general straightened up to face the duke, but still no trace of annoyance showed on his face, let alone anger at the insult. 'Well then, it is unfortunate for all of us that Lord Isak has approved of the plan, and it is he who was specifically appointed commander of our army,' he said quietly.
'Lord Bahl did not know a duke would be present!' snapped Certinse in return. 'If my father had been alive he would have been granted command as soon as he rode in. I demand the same right, as is the privilege of my rank.'
Isak raised an eyebrow at Vesna, but the count was not paying attention. His hand was creeping closer to his sword as the Lomin hurscals edged closer to the group.
It was up to Isak. 'Demand whatever in the name of the dark place you like,' he bellowed. The venom in his voice froze every man to the spot and rippled out through the air to reach the Ghosts camped all around Isak's tent. Hands reached instinctively for weapons as they caught sight of Certinse's hurscals and they immediately closed the respectful gap between men and generals. General Lahk was an emotionless bastard who'd sacrifice a division if he had to, but he'd kept them all alive time and time again for that precise reason. They trusted him as much as Lord Bahl and had no affection for the arrogance of household knights.
'The first man who draws a sword here, I'll call mutiny and run him through. That also goes for the first who tries to take my command, whatever his rank is,' Isak continued. Til answer to Lord Bahl for my actions, but no one else commands me.' He glared around at every man there. 'Now, does anyone wish to take issue with the plan?'
A moment of silence followed before Certinse opened his mouth again and blurted out, 'The enemy's numbers are too great. We'd have to cut our way through several legions to reach the trolls.'
'General Lahk, would you care to explain further?' Isak's voice was quiet and controlled; something Bahl had said to Isak had emerged from his memory: the eye of the storm is when men have time to fear the other side. Show your anger, and then don't use it further. They will expect it to return, and hesitate. One pause is all a soldier needs.