She reached into her cloak and pulled out the small packet wrapped in brown cloth. As Tagata stared in shock, Kaita placed it in her hand and folded her thick fingers around it.
“Keep them until I return,” said Kaita. “They would slow me down in my flight. And without them, you know I have no chance of striking at Mag and Albern in the heart of their allies.”
“Kaita …” murmured Tagata.
Wordlessly, Kaita stood on tiptoe and pulled Tagata’s face down to kiss her on the cheek. Then she turned, and her eyes filled with magelight. An instant later, a raven took wing into the grey, cloudy sky.
Kaita had to flap hard, for there were no updrafts to cast her sailing through the air. But she relished the burning in her wings, the feeling of blood coursing its feverish way through the tiny veins of her bird form. Her months of fleeing from Mag and me had left her exhausted, but she had had a week of easy travel with the Shades to recover. Now flying felt like a return to honest work after being too long idle.
At last, she spotted Kun’s force. She studied it from high up in the air. Her best guess was that around three and a half hundreds of troops lay below her, not counting the camp followers behind. That was almost double the size of the Shade force. Worse yet, she spotted some dozen or so red cloaks wandering among the press—Mystic officers directing the militia.
So. The Mystics were aware of the Shades’ march and were hunting them across Dorsea. And they were only half a day’s march behind the Shades. At least they had no horses, other than some few officers’ mounts and pack animals. Tagata and her troops should still be able to reach the Greatrocks before they were caught, though it would be a near thing.
Kaita was about to swoop lower. She wanted to see if she could identify the leader of this little army. She especially wanted to catch sight of Mag and me, to confirm what she already suspected. But just before she bent her wings to dive, an arrow flew up from the host. It pierced a raven, a real raven, through the breast. The bird plummeted to the ground.
Dark take them, thought Kaita. They were shooting birds in case they were weremages. Even as she watched, a falcon drew too close and was shot down.
Well. In truth, that was all she needed to know. If this host was taking precaution against weremages, that must mean that Mag and I were there. We would have told them about her. She could not get closer to confirm it, but she had all the proof she required.
She turned and powered her wings back towards Tagata and the rest of the Shades.
Of course, Tou’s company had left the rest of the host days ago, and Mag and I had gone with him. Under our guidance, the company had marched south for half a day before swinging west. Then, we had raced along a small valley that ran south of the Greenfrost. Kun had directed the rest of his forces, under Zhen’s command, to pursue the Shades with all possible speed and distract them.
That was why Kaita only counted three and a half hundreds of soldiers, and she reported that number to Tagata.
That was why she only saw a dozen or so redcloaks—the rest were with Kun, who marched with Mag and me.
That was why the next day, Kaita only kept an eye on the force behind, and never flew ahead to scout the Greenfrost for danger.
And that was why the Shades were utterly unprepared when we found them in the forest the next day.
We marched at a breakneck pace, sleeping six hours each night and pressing ourselves hard during the daylight. Each time we stopped, Mag and I consulted Kun’s map again. We evaluated each day’s progress and made plans for the next. I put every ounce of my woodcraft to its utmost use, and Mag wracked her mind for every detail she could remember of the countryside.
If Kun’s soldiers had not been so green, I doubt we could have carried off the march in time. When soldiers have never seen combat, their first outing seems like a thrilling adventure. They will march and train harder, and they find it easy to call upon inner reserves of strength and energy.
These things fade once they learn the reality of war. But since ours had not yet absorbed that lesson, we were able to push them hard enough to catch up to our foes.
Our force reached the woods a day before the Shades. The Greenfrost is so named because it is filled with trees called pycnandra, which secrete a greenish sap. When winter comes, the trees freeze over, and the sap turns the ice green. Then it is like wandering through a forest of emerald and jade statues. They were still frozen when we passed through the wood. It was a breathtaking sight, though we had little time to appreciate its beauty.
The path where the Shades entered the Greenfrost to the east was winding and sinuous. But halfway through the wood, the road straightened, and then it ran straight as an arrow’s path until it reached the western end of the forest. It was on this straightaway that Kun planned our attack.
Tou’s company had five squadrons: three of archers, including mine, and Mag’s and Yue’s with swords. And then, of course, there were Kun’s Mystics, all carrying swords and shields, and each wearing chain.
We deployed two squadrons of archers on the south of the road and my unit to the north. Kun would signal the attack by firing a flaming brand into the air, and the archers would loose. Our bowfire would sow confusion in the Shades’ ranks, miring them down. Then would come the second strike. Kun’s Mystics would attack straight down the center, with Mag’s squadron supporting him on the left and Yue’s spears on the right.
Kun knew we would not be able to stop the Shades entirely, not with only a hundred of fighters. His idea was to make them retreat instead. We wanted them to run north, where the Greenfrost gave way to a vast, broad land with many hills and dells.
“Captain,” said Yue, when Kun told us the plan. “Will they not vanish into the hills? How will we keep track of them?”
“Indeed, we hope they try it, because it will not work,” said Kun. He nodded to Mag. “Mag here knows this region. The land there is too gentle to block sight very well. Nor will it let them funnel us into a trap, nor will the gentle slopes give them much of a high ground to defend. The hills only look impressive from a distance. Once inside, they will never leave again.”
It was a cunning ploy, and Mag and I were impressed. I think Kun could tell we approved, which seemed to please him, despite himself. Something had changed in his attitude towards us. I did not get the sense that he trusted us, but no longer was he always suspicious of us. He spoke frankly with us as he laid out his plan.
“I wish to impress upon you both,” he said to Mag and me, “that your squadrons will be in the path of the Shades’ retreat. You must withdraw the moment they move in your direction. I hope you understand that I am not placing you in this position out of any wish of harm to you. With your experience, I know—or hope—that you will be able to lead your squadrons in a disciplined retreat.”
Mag cracked a smile. “You can say what you mean, Captain, if you mean to imply we are cowards.”
Kun’s small council erupted in laughter, which we all quickly cut off. The humor was a good thing—all our faces had been grim, and there are few things more harmful to a fighting force than for its commanders to be too moody.
“Hardly,” said Kun, smiling as usual. “Discipline and speed are all I ask of you. Maneuver west, swing around, and join the rest of us in pursuing them north.”
“As you wish, Captain,” I said.
“Good,” said Kun. His smile lost some of its luster. “All that is left, then, is the waiting.”
As any soldier with experience will tell you, the waiting is the worst part.
I gathered my squadron and moved with them to the north, positioning them in the forest where Kun had directed us. Mag and her unit came with us. Our troops kept their eyes cast down at the ground, and their fingers were pale where they gripped their weapons. Only Hallan seemed to be in better spirits, and that was only compared to the rest. His mouth was set in a firm line; he told no jokes, but kept his now-spectacled gaze on the beautiful jade forest ahead.
We stoppe
d at Mag’s position, and I turned to her to clasp wrists.
“Take care of yourself,” she said. “If you are killed, I shall be very cross with you.”
“And the same to you,” I said.
I glanced over her shoulder at her squadron. Li stood there. Her gaze wandered like always, but her hands were shaking. Beside her was Dibu, who was as still as a rock.
I stepped past Mag.
“Listen to me,” I said, loud enough to cut through their stupor. “I know your minds. I was there once. We all were. Even Mag, hard as it is to believe it.”
Gently I punched her in the shoulder. She responded with a chop under my bicep, and my whole arm lanced with pain. I shook it hard to get the needles out.
“That is my drawing arm, you sow,” I growled. Despite themselves, her squadron chuckled. “Yes,” I told them. “That is how you should be feeling. Not thrilled, for you are not fools. But neither should you worry overmuch, for you have one great advantage in the battle you are about to fight. You have her. You have all heard stories of the Uncut Lady. Sky above, Dryleaf has told you plenty of them in the last weeks.”
I hooked my thumbs in my belt and threw my shoulders back. “Well, tonight Dryleaf is going to need you. He will need you to tell him tales about your sergeant so that he can add them to his trove. I have fought with Mag on more battlefields than most of you have years in your life. She will not let you down. She will do everything in her power—and that is considerable—to lead you home safe from the field. Do the same for her, and each other, and you will be fine.”
As I spoke, I watched them straighten. They turned to look at Mag, and then back to me. And in that brief moment, fear turned to resolution.
Once more I took Mag’s wrist, and then I pulled her in for an embrace. There was nothing left to say, and so I led my squadron off.
We were half a span away from Mag’s squadron when Jian cleared her throat. “Well, Sergeant. Have you any inspiring speech for us? I half thought Mag would speak on your behalf the way you spoke on hers.”
“And what did you think she would say?” I retorted. “You have little to hang your hope upon. You are, after all, stuck with me.”
That got a halfhearted laugh from all of them. I stopped and turned, for we had reached our position.
“No, but in all earnestness, the most comforting thing I can say to you is that you do not need any comforting today. For most of you, this is your first battle. And it may be the safest one you will ever see. You have an easy job today: shoot an enemy when they do not know you are there and flee before they can retaliate.” I raised one finger. “But there is something you must remember. You must listen for the moment when I sound the retreat. And you must stay close to me, and to your squadmates, when we pull back. Pay attention to your surroundings, and always keep an ear out for my call. What is far more important than killing the enemy?”
“Staying alive,” they all said in chorus. I had drilled it into them hard enough.
“According to you,” added Jian, after a moment.
Chausiku’s nostrils flared, and his locs shook as he turned on her. “Dark below, Jian—”
“Be calm, you tree trunk,” she told him, pushing her rakish hair off her forehead. “It was a jest.”
I rolled my eyes. “All right. Find a tree to hide behind. And get ready.”
It was I who loosed the first shot.
That makes me sound like the quickest archer on the field. But if I am being honest with you, it is because I forgot that Kun was supposed to give us a signal to attack.
The Shades came marching down the forest road from the east. Their dark forms slid in and out of view between the emerald trunks of the trees, like imps half-glimpsed in the wild. I watched them come, wrapped thick in their cloaks of blue. None were on horses, and they all bent wearily under their packs and bedrolls. They looked to be far more tired than our company, for we had been able to leave most of our equipment and supplies back with the main force.
Near the head of the column was a giant of a woman who gave me pause. It was Tagata, as you might be able to guess, but of course, I had never seen her before. She was massive, towering over the Shades all around her, with muscles thick as anything. She wore no extra clothing against the rainy chill, and her skin glistened with a sheen of sweat in the afternoon air. I swallowed hard.
The first shadeborn I had met was Trisken, who slew Jordel. When I first saw Rogan, I recognized in him the same strength, the same viciousness. I saw it again in this woman now. That meant shooting her would be useless, even if I were to plant an arrow in her eye.
Therefore I chose the closest Shade to me as a target instead. He was a young man, mayhap in his twentieth year. His pale cheeks were rosy with heavy breaths that misted in the cold. He was not wary, nor was he looking about for any sign of attack. He would not even know he was in danger before he was dead.
I sighed and waited for the right moment. But as I said, I forgot about Kun’s signal. Fortunately for me, Kun and I had the same idea of when the right moment was. I must have loosed my arrow at the same instant that Kun fired his flaming brand into the sky. At the same time that my shaft sank into the young man’s neck, and he fell to the ground, gurgling, a searing hiss sounded in the air.
Shouts erupted from the woods all around us as our soldiers saw the signal. Flights of arrows ripped through the air to land among our foes. The Shades recoiled into each other and drew their weapons. But their movements were slow, sluggish, burdened with the weight of leagues behind them.
All but the brute woman. In an instant, her greatsword was in her hand, shining in the thin sunlight through the clouds. She gave a battle cry that shook the trees, and the Shades jumped in response. Suddenly there was vigor in their steps, and they tried to form into ranks.
We loosed another volley—the third, for me. Our hail of arrows struck the blue cloaks, and I watched them fall. We were silent—what use a battle cry when you are almost a span away and drawing no closer? Our only sound was the hissing song of death flying on wings of fletching.
Then Kun led his charge, and the air filled with their roar. A score and a half of Mystics came charging from the trees, and at their flanks were Mag’s squadron and Yue’s spears.
Snow turned red as blood splashed across it. The Shades reeled back. Their allies behind them tried to shove them forwards again. But they only pushed them onto our blades.
I saw Li there. She stood side by side with her fellows, but she was hesitant, the tip of her sword shaking. A Shade lunged at her with a savage roar. Li blocked his strikes, but she did not retaliate. And as she stepped back, her foot slipped in the blood-red snow.
Before the Shade could finish her off, Dibu was there. His sword hacked into the Shades’ raised sword arm. The man screamed, but only for a moment before Dibu stabbed him through the gut.
Another Shade ran up. Dibu traded two blows and then slammed the edge of his shield into her face. She reeled back, nose broken. Dibu’s sword hacked at her neck, nearly severing her head. She flopped to the ground.
With a moment of space to breathe, Dibu turned and hauled Li to her feet. She was still shaking, but she nodded at him. Together they plunged again into the fray, driving the Shades back.
But alone among the Shades, the brute held. Kun’s Mystics broke like a wave around her. And she, like a boulder in the surf, held them off until they had to withdraw. Her greatsword came around in a grand sweep. A handful of redcloaks struck the bloody slush, never to rise again.
A curse slipped out of me. I had lost sight of Mag in the press. Hopefully, she would recognize the woman’s power from my descriptions of Trisken. If she could strike at the tattoo I guessed was on the back of her neck, we might bring her down, which would be a grievous blow to the Shades.
And then a raven swooped out of the sky, and I forgot all about Mag and the brute.
The raven plunged straight into the Shades’ midst. No natural bird would have landed there duri
ng a battle. And if I needed any more confirmation, it came in a flash of magelight. Soon Kaita was visible among the press, shouting orders to her fellows.
I could not take my eyes from her. My drawing hand had stilled, and no shafts flew from my string. Hallan paused in his firing, looking at me strangely. He reached over and seized my shoulder, shaking it.
“Sergeant!” he cried.
I roused myself from my thoughts. Kaita could wait.
Where was Mag? Still, I could not see her. But there was the brute woman, holding the Shade line firm.
“Everyone!” I cried. “If you are a good enough shot not to hit our allies, loose your arrows at the giant!”
I pointed her out—as if they needed help to spot her—and then drew and fired my arrow. Six more shafts joined mine. Two missed, but that still sent five arrows slamming into her chest, her neck, her arms.
The brute reeled back. The Shades around her buckled in dismay.
Now the Mystics pressed forwards. Three sank blades deep into the brute’s torso. I watched her cough up blood.
My gaze darted back to Kaita. She looked at the brute woman, and she screamed. In anger? In grief? I did not know, for I could not hear.
One ambitious Mystic swung his blade for the brute’s neck. But she was not as grievously wounded as he thought. With a roar, she caught his sword in her hand. It sank into the flesh, but she gritted her teeth and bore it. Then she seized the Mystic around the neck and crushed his face with her forehead. His whole body went limp, and he fell to the ground.
The other redcloaks drew back, nervous. That gave the brute the moment she needed to stand. Even as I watched, her skin began to stitch over the gaping wounds in her body. She drew in ragged breaths and hefted her greatsword again.
But another volley of arrows fell upon the Shades, and more of them dropped to the ground. The brute looked back at her allies, and I saw her hesitate. She did not know if there were more soldiers in these woods, waiting to pounce.
The Tales of the Wanderer Volume One: A Book of Underrealm (The Underrealm Volumes 4) Page 72