“Banayt!” he called out. “If you’re going to eat on watch, at least keep looking!”
The sentry jumped. “Yes, sir.”
“Sir?” Alendyr’s voice was tentative.
Mykel hadn’t realized that the squad leader was so close, but he had not been paying that much attention, lost as he had been in his own thoughts. “Yes?”
“You can see what Banayt’s doing from here?”
“He’s only some fifty yards out,” Mykel said.
“It’s dark as pitch out there, sir. I can barely make out the tree.”
Mykel offered a shrug.
“Sir? About today…”
“I wish we didn’t have to do things like that, but there’s no help for it,” Mykel said, tiredly. “These people only respect force.” He felt like those words were becoming an excuse for everything.
“No, sir. We all know that. This was something different. I was just wondering how you managed to get across that field so fast this afternoon. Those bluecoats who were aiming at you, you dropped one, and then, all sudden-like, you were almost on top of the other one.”
“It just seemed that way,” Mykel replied. “When you’re fighting, strange things seem to happen. Things speed up and slow down. It seems that way to me, at least.”
“I don’t know, sir. Never seen anything like that… like you were in one place one moment, and another the next.”
While that was how it had felt, Mykel was reluctant to admit it. “Sometimes, it feels that way. You’re fighting. Then, suddenly, it’s all over. Haven’t you felt that way at times?”
“Yes, sir.” The squad leader paused. “You think there are that many other rebel companies out there?”
“I’d guess there are still four or five. We need to take down a couple more, at least, before they’ll even think about surrendering.” That was being optimistic, but Mykel saw no point in saying so.
“Seems like a shame… they haven’t been trained that well… If we had two battalions here, we could just roll them all up and get it over.”
“It’d be quicker and easier on everyone, but… we don’t. No one calls us in until there’s a real mess.”
“Myrmidons would help.”
“They would, but there are so many rebels that they’d have to burn the whole island. There aren’t that many of them, either.” Mykel offered a rueful laugh. “That’s why we’re here.”
“Yes, sir… just thought you’d like to know.”
“I appreciate it, Alendyr. I just hope we can finish this up before long.”
“Yes, sir. It’d be good to get back to Elcien. Had some more nightwasp stings. Say they’ll get worse as it gets hotter.”
“We can always hope we can finish before it gets too hot.” Was that another aspect of the rebel strategy? Drag things out so that the nightwasps and other summer pests made things worse, until the Cadmians just wanted to leave?
“Hope so, sir.”
After Alendyr slipped away, Mykel looked into the darkness. He knew what had to be done, just as he could see Ba-nayt walking his post. Why did so few others? Or was he trying to justify what he had done and would do?
90
Fifteenth Company moved out early on
Novdi morning, heading along one of the larger farm roads that meandered northward and was one of the few that descended into and crossed the stream valley that held the smuggling trail. The scouts had reported some hoofprints in the road, no more than one or two days old, possibly messengers between two rebel forces.
As he rode through an early morning that was already too warm, he considered how long and to what degree he should pursue the disorganized rebels. The bluecoats had not brought supply wagons eastward through the Murian Mountains, perhaps one reason why the rebel companies had not remained in one unified force. They needed to forage or buy supplies—or obtain them from those eastern seltyrs with whom they were allied. Contrary to what Rachyla had said, Mykel was convinced that some of the eastern and western seltyrs were acting together. Admittedly, the decision to work together could have come after her imprisonment.
Mykel frowned. He couldn’t see that her imprisonment was doing much for either her or the Cadmians. He also worried that she was right about her fate, but what could he do? If he appealed to Dohark or Colonel Dainyl, they’d assume it was because he was attracted to her—and dismiss his suggestion. In a way, he was, but certainly not in a lustful or romantic fashion, and she definitely had no interest in him.
He glanced at the road ahead, catching sight of the dust that heralded a rider, one of the scouts. In less than a tenth of a glass, Sendyl had pulled his mount alongside Mykel.
“A company of bluecoats, sir, maybe two vingts north, but they’re heading south. Looks like they’re going to head west on that farm road on the south side of that valley. Right now, they’ve stopped down in the valley. Maybe for rations or water.”
“Squad leaders! Forward!”
As he waited for them to gather, Mykel got out the maps he had. There was a lane that angled to the northwest. The road heading west passed through an area where the descent into the stream valley was so rugged that it was almost im-Passable and where the land to the south was marshy, even in drier weather. If Fifteenth Company set an ambush to the west of that and then followed with a charge, the ability of the bluecoats to retreat or withdraw quickly would be hampered. Yet, if they mounted a strong defense, Fifteenth Company could withdraw quickly.
Once the squad leaders arrived and pulled up in a semicircle facing him, Mykel began to speak. “We’ve got another bluecoat company headed our way. It looks like they’ll be turning westward north of here. We’re going to set up a surprise…” He went on to outline the plan as quickly as he could, finishing up with a summary. “… I’ll be with first squad, up front. If they don’t notice us until they’re fully in range, the whole company will fire from cover as long as we can. Then I’ll order either a charge or a withdrawal. If they react sooner, first squad will make a quick sabre charge. This will allow the other four squads to set up in the oblique firing lines to rake the road. We’ll be riding back as quickly as possible.” Mykel offered a rueful laugh, looking at Bhoral. “Just make sure first squad is clear on the way back before you open fire.”
Bhoral even smiled in return. “We can manage that, sir.”
Chyndylt chuckled.
“That’s it. We’ll be heading northwest at the next cart path. Back to your squads and pass the word.”
The cart path that Mykel had noted and recalled was more like an overgrown trail, and he heard the creaking of the supply wagons at the rear—even as far ahead as he was riding. After half a vingt, the path emerged from between two woodlots and became a dike between two marshy areas. As soon as the chestnut set foot on the dike section of the path, clouds of gnatlike insects swarmed up around the riders. While not as bad as nightwasps, the gnats found their way into eyes, ears, and even noses. Swatting them released an odor much like rotting meat.
At the far end of the raised path, where a casaran orchard that had seen far better days replaced the marshy ground, the gnats vanished—but not the lingering odor. Mykel didn’t recall the insects, but the last time they had ridden the area had been winter. Based on what he was seeing, feeling, and smelling, he wasn’t looking forward to the summer ahead in Dramur.
He could hear the mutters behind him.
“… longer we’re here… worse it stinks…”
“… better to let ‘em fight among themselves…”
Mykel had some sympathy for that view, although he wasn’t about to voice it.
Another quarter glass passed before they neared the junction with the south valley road. Jasakyt, whom Mykel had sent ahead, was waiting, just off the road, in a shaded spot. He rode forward to meet Mykel.
“Nothing on the road, sir. No tracks. Way’s clear to a stand of trees a half vingt east.”
“Thank you. Fall in with your squad.”
“Yes, si
r.”
“Supply wagons! Hold here! Pass it back!” Mykel stood in the stirrups and looked back to make sure that the wagons had halted before turning his attention to the east-west road. “Fifteenth Company, to the right!”
After covering another two hundred yards, Mykel turned to Bhoral, on his left. “Up there, where the woodlot south of the road thickens, that’s where I want the rest of the company.”
“You want them set up so that they can take the road if necessary—in a firing line?”
“Right. That won’t give as much concealment, but I want them able to ride at a moment’s notice.”
“You’re thinking that this group might be better prepared, sir?”
“Something like that.” Most of the rebels couldn’t have been less prepared. Was that because the more disciplined companies had stayed away, or had their own scouts and information allowed them to avoid the Cadmians?
“Be a good thing to be ready to ride.”
That was about as far as Bhoral was likely to go in saying that he approved.
As they drew abreast of the trees, seemingly less tended than most woodlots, with more than a few bushes between and under the trees, Mykel turned in the saddle. “Company, halt!” He looked to Bhoral. “They’re yours.”
“Yes, sir.”
“First squad, forward!”
Gendsyr rode forward and took the position beside Mykel. They rode toward a copse of trees, standing alone on the right, large enough to conceal a squad, but certainly not a company.
“Squad, halt!” Mykel reined up well short of the trees and turned the chestnut so that he faced the squad. “Find cover, but stay mounted, and make sure you have a clear line of fire at the road. Don’t ride any farther east on the road itself. And don’t open fire until I order it.”
Within moments, first squad was off the road and settling into the trees.
Waiting was one aspect of being a Cadmian that Mykel had the most trouble with, especially on hot days where flies and other insects buzzed around looking for exposed flesh. It seemed like a glass or more had passed, but he doubted that it was much more than half a glass. Then, another quarter glass went by before Mykel could see two riders on the road, with a larger group behind them. “Quiet! I Rifles ready!” he hissed. “They’re coming.”
The few murmurs that had competed with the insects and birds died away.
Mykel kept waiting, his rifle in hand.
The rebel outriders were no more than seventy five yards in front of the main body. They continued to ride toward the Cadmians concealed in the trees south of the road. Neither outrider gave the trees more than a passing glance—until they were within a few yards of Mykel, when one of them abruptly lifted a rifle and wheeled his mount, firing toward the trees.
“First squad, open fire!” As he yelled out the orders, Mykel brought his own weapon up and fired, concentrating hard.
The rebel outrider dropped, knocked back in the saddle. The second outrider fell a moment later, but not from any shot Mykel had fired.
“First squad! Forward!” Mykel guided the chestnut out from cover and turned eastward, not riding full out, so that Gendsyr and first squad could catch up.
He tried another shot, but wasn’t certain he hit any of the approaching bluecoats, still a good fifty yards away. He sheathed the rifle and brought out the sabre. “Forward!”
The bluecoats in the lead were slow to react, and first squad was on them before most ever had their rifles out or aimed. Only half even had sabres ready.
Mykel aimed himself and the chestnut at the squad leader—he hadn’t seen anyone resembling an officer. The rebel parried Mykel’s sabre, but Mykel slipped it, ducked slightly, and countered with a slash to the back of the other’s neck and shoulder as he passed.
He was slightly off-balance, and barely managed to get his blade back into position for his own parry of a blow from a rebel ranker, but the less experienced ranker had put too much effort into his slash, and Mykel caught him across the throat before he recovered.
Behind them, in the following companies, Mykel could hear orders, so clearly that they must have been bellowed at full throat.
“Lead squad! Break and withdraw! Second squad, rifles ready! Four abreast! Measured advance! Fire at will!”
Mykel pulled to the side of the road, knocking back a weak blow from a retreating bluecoat, and issued his own orders. “Fifteenth Company! First squad! Withdraw!”
Studying the confusion of the retreating squad of bluecoats and the order behind them, Mykel watched as first squad rode past him, heading back toward the rest of Fifteenth Company. Then he urged the chestnut along, bringing up the rear.
Several quick glances over his shoulder told him that the bluecoats were pursuing, if at the measured pace ordered by their commander. When first squad was out of easy rifle range, he called out, “First squad! Re-form! Now!”
The squad slowed and re-formed, still headed westward. Mykel checked the advance of the bluecoats against the position of the still-concealed main body of Fifteenth Company.
“First squad. To the rear, turn! Staggered firing line!”
“That’s a long way, sir,” Gendsyr pointed out, from his mount beside Mykel.
“I don’t care if we hit them. I want them to keep coming after us.” Mykel had cleaned and sheathed his sabre and taken out his own rifle, reloading it as well. After a moment, he ordered, “Fire!”
He concentrated on one of the lead bluecoats, once more fully concentrating and willing the shot to hit.
The bluecoat sagged in the saddle.
“Cease firing! To the rear, quick trot!”
After another hundred yards, Mykel repeated the firing line. He took down another bluecoat, and the rebels began to pick up the pace.
As they drew near the woodlot where the remainder of Fifteenth Company waited, Mykel called out, “Bhoral! Fifteenth Company! Stay under cover! Stay under cover!”
First squad rode past the first section of the woodlot before Mykel called a halt and had the squad turn and form a full firing line.
“First squad! Stand by for two shots, then reload and hold! Commence firing!”
The bluecoats were closer, little more than sixty yards to the east, when they broke into a full charge, riding five abreast, and filling the road.
Shots flew past Mykel, mostly overhead, and he forced himself to wait… longer than he felt comfortable before ordering. “Fifteenth Company! Open fire! Fire at will!”
The rifles of a full company sounded like thunder, and the first two ranks of the bluecoats went down. That slowed the charge, but the rebels struggled forward past riderless mounts and downed horses and men and kept coming. Mykel could sense the combination of hatred, frustration, and desperation. He kept firing, until the blue-coats were within twenty yards. “Rifles away! To sabres! Charge!”
Since Mykel couldn’t see an officer, he charged the nearest ranker, a young dark-haired man who flung up his sabre wildly. Mykel beat it down, but could only deliver a second slash to the other’s sword arm as he passed.
When Mykel finally broke free of the melee, a handful of bluecoats were riding westward. Mykel glanced west, then east. To the east, a body of rebels, equal to perhaps two squads, was withdrawing, riding hard. They were already too far away for Fifteenth Company to pursue.
An enormous shadow fell across Mykel, then passed on. He looked up to see a single pteridon diving toward the retreating bluecoats.
A line of blue flame jetted from the skylance, moving across the riders. Then… the flame was gone. So were the riders. A wave of something passed over Mykel—a feeling of mass death? He wasn’t sure, except that he had felt something. Even from almost a vingt away, he could see the blackened spot on the road and the heat rising from where there had been twoscore rebels.
“Make it look easy, they do,” said Dravadyl, reining up beside Mykel. “That’s after we’ve done all the hard work.”
“They can’t do much unless the ene
my forces are away from us,” Mykel pointed out. “Otherwise, we’d be cinders, too.”
“Ah… sir?”
Mykel looked at the fourth squad leader. “Yes?” “Might want to bind that wound.”
Abruptly, Mykel looked down, suddenly conscious of the slash across his left arm. “It’s not that deep, but you’re right.” He glanced back at the pteridon, which had banked and turned back toward the Cadmians.
Within moments, the flying creature had swept back overhead and was overtaking the handful of rebels riding westward.
The skylance flamed once more, and once more Mykel sensed death, and it felt like something had been severed. He doubted that any of those killed had even seen the pteridon.
The pteridon circled back and began to descend toward the road junction. Mykel could see that it was coming in to land. “I’d better go meet them.”
“Here, sir,” offered Dravadyl. “Just take a moment. Let me bind that.”
Mykel waited until the white bandage was around his arm, not too tightly, but enough to staunch the blood oozing out, he hoped.
“Bhoral! Reform the company and get a casualty report. I’m going to meet the colonel.”
“Yes, sir.”
Mykel urged the chestnut forward, but only at a walk. He’d asked too much of his mount already. Ahead of him the pteridon had spread its wide wings and settled in the wide space where the two roads joined.
As he neared the flying beast, which had folded its long blue wings, he saw that there were two saddles on the pteridon. The forward saddle held a Myrmidon ranker. The second saddle was empty, because Colonel Dainyl had dismounted and stood waiting for Mykel.
91
With no messages from Captain Mykel on Octdi, nor by two glasses after morning muster on Novdi, Dainyl was concerned. The Cadmian scouts had reported more of the remaining forces of the various seltyrs had joined and were withdrawing into the rugged country to the north of the guano mine. None of the scouts had gathered any information to indicate where Fifteenth Company was or where it might be headed.
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