After having eaten some stale bread and hard cheese, and drinking more ale, Beltur was feeling close to recovered from the morning’s efforts. He sat on the east side of the hill some ten yards below the crest on a ledge of red sandstone, really more of a protrusion that was just wide enough for sitting and long enough for perhaps three or four people side by side. The sunlight wasn’t all that warm, but felt good, since there was barely a hint of a breeze.
Zandyr stood at the end of the ledge. “How long before the Gallosians attack, do you think?”
“They should have come into sight by now. So they’ve stopped or headed somewhere else.”
“There’s nowhere else for them to go, except Axalt.”
“That’s not likely. Two companies would just get trapped in the canyon, and then they’d be slaughtered.” That had happened to the Prefect’s grandsire, Beltur knew. “It’s more likely that they’ve stopped or withdrawn to the south to join up with another Gallosian force for an attack somewhere else.” Beltur didn’t think that was likely, either, but it was possible, he supposed.
Zandyr sidled away without saying more, and that was fine with Beltur.
A short time later, Beltur thought he saw a puff of dust to the east on the hill road. He tried to sense that far, only to find that all he could determine was that a single horse and rider approached. Finally, by squinting, he could just barely make out the man and mount, one of the scouts earlier dispatched by the captain.
Beltur stood and made his way down the hill toward where he saw Laugreth and Gaermyn standing and waiting.
By the time the scout reined up by the two officers, it was closer to first glass than noon, and Beltur had positioned himself where he could overhear the scout’s report without being too obvious. He could have moved closer under a concealment, but that, somehow, felt wrong.
“… Gallosians have started raiding the local steads for forage … why they haven’t moved that far west yet … not burning or pillaging so far as I could tell, ser … They did take a wagon and a mule…”
To Beltur, that suggested that an immediate attack was unlikely. He remained silent and in the background until Laugreth dismissed the scout. Then he eased toward the other two officers, where he stopped and waited.
“You heard all that, Beltur?” Gaermyn’s words were not quite a question.
“Yes, ser.”
“What do you think?” asked the captain.
“Something’s changed or the infantry commander isn’t very smart. They wouldn’t have sent two companies into Spidlar without support and supplies if they’d meant them to stay for long, would they?” Beltur stopped when he realized he was essentially saying what the captain told him earlier.
“I wouldn’t wager on a stupid commander,” replied Laugreth. “It’s more likely that something else didn’t work out. It could be that they were trying to pull more than one company away from the city. Or they’ve been told to wait to attack until the Gallosians advance somewhere else. It looks like they want to tie us up here for now.”
“Have you heard from the majer, ser?” Beltur had thought to ask more, but decided against it for the moment as he saw Zandyr approaching.
“Only orders to hold here and keep the Gallosians at bay as long as possible and to let him know if we need support.” Laugreth offered a tight smile. “That’s a way of saying he doesn’t have many reinforcements available.”
“That’s a waste. We shouldn’t be used against heavy infantry,” said Gaermyn.
“We both know that. So does the majer. Probably the commander does as well. He just might not have an infantry company or two to replace us at the moment. Or he needs them more somewhere else.”
“So we just sit here and wait?” asked Zandyr.
“It’s usually better to wait until you can figure out where you’re needed and for what, rather than go riding off in what might be the wrong direction,” said Gaermyn dryly. “Besides, we’d lose too many men in a direct attack on heavy infantry when they’re expecting it. Right now, they’re definitely looking out for us to attack.”
Zandyr opened his mouth, then quickly closed it.
“When do you think it’s likely we’ll hear from the majer, ser?” asked Beltur.
“Either when he needs us desperately or after the fighting stops today,” replied Laugreth. “It will stop for a time because the Gallosians can’t have moved enough men across the river yet. Not with the number of flatboats they have. Even if they brought more flatboats downstream it would take time.” He smiled politely. “I need to send a report to the majer.”
“Yes, ser,” replied Beltur, immediately turning and beginning to head back up the hill.
“Can you sense farther from up higher?” asked Gaermyn.
Beltur stopped and half turned. “A little better, I think. I’m still not sensing as well as I was. So it’s hard to tell.”
Gaermyn nodded.
Beltur resumed walking.
“It still seems stupid to wait and do nothing,” murmured Zandyr as he followed the mage away from the two more senior officers.
“If we move, what happens when the Gallosians march around us straight to Elparta and attack? From where we are we can see any approach to the city. I imagine that’s why the captain picked this hill.”
“Our scouts know where the Gallosians are.”
“Our scouts know where some Gallosians are. What if they’ve split up, or another company has joined them?”
“Aren’t you supposed to be able to discover that?”
“Only if they’re close.” Beltur didn’t bother to look at Zandyr.
Zandyr took several more steps, but when Beltur didn’t say anything or look in his direction, he stopped. Beltur walked back to the ledge and sat down. He still couldn’t sense much farther than he had before the scout had reported. But he did like the sunlight and being a little away from the rest of the company.
Three glasses passed. During that time Beltur walked up to the top of the hill and then back down, ate some more stale bread and cheese, drank another bottle of ale, and finally went to the tie-line and checked on Slowpoke, who had grazed away all the scrubby grass within reach.
When he sensed a single uniformed rider coming from the direction of Elparta, he immediately headed down to tell the captain. By the time the rider arrived, all four officers were waiting as the ranker, wearing a messenger’s sash, handed the dispatch to Laugreth.
No one said anything while the captain broke the seal and began to read.
Finally, Laugreth looked up. “The Gallosians crossed the border on the west side of the river. They pushed north to within a kay and a half of Elparta and stopped.”
“Why did they stop?” asked Zandyr before the captain could say more.
“Because that’s where the solid flat land begins on the east side of the river,” replied Laugreth impatiently. “You might let me finish, Undercaptain Zandyr.”
“Yes, ser.”
Laugreth cleared his throat and continued, “They also made an attack at the same time on the east side of the river, but the marshal stopped them before they advanced a little more than a kay. The Gallosians are now landing more armsmen on the east side. That includes lancers and heavy infantry and some white wizards. The marshal judges that they’ll try to advance tomorrow to drive as far north as their forces on the west side. Then they’ll move forward slowly on both sides of the river until they hold enough ground close to the walls to bring up their siege engines. They’ve been using their mages against any units that don’t have a black to shield them. The casualties from mage-fire have been significant. The dispatch doesn’t say how significant. We’re to be replaced within the next glass, but we’re not to leave our position until Eighth Foot arrives. We’ll receive orders once we return.”
Gaermyn nodded, as if to agree with Second Recon’s replacement by a foot company.
The captain turned to Beltur. “How do you think they’ll use their mages against ours?”
>
“They’ll try to concentrate on ours by bringing two or three mages against just one of ours. Since blacks can’t throw chaos, the whites only have to shield against arrows. Some of them would have trouble with iron arrows or iron bolts from crossbows, but just an iron arrowhead wouldn’t be enough. I don’t know if we even have any iron arrows.”
“Have you told anyone about the idea of iron arrows?”
“Some of the other mages,” admitted Beltur. “I hadn’t thought about that. I’m sorry.”
“That’s something I can pass on immediately. Do you have any idea how many of those whites they have?”
“I know of six or seven strong whites. I wouldn’t be surprised if Wyath has at least twice that.”
“That many?”
“There were always many more whites than blacks in Gallos,” Beltur pointed out. “Fenard is probably four times the size of Elparta, and there are lots of towns in Gallos. Aren’t there more blacks in Spidlaria?”
“I grew up there,” said Gaermyn. “I never saw many. Didn’t see many in Kleth, either. I don’t know why.”
“Do you have any ideas about that?” Laugreth asked Zandyr.
“I’ve never been to Spidlaria, ser.”
“That’s not something we can do anything about. Go get the men ready to move out.” Laugreth looked to Beltur. “Do you sense any Gallosians … or our replacements?”
“No, ser.”
“Carry on. I need to send back a quick response with the courier.”
As Laugreth turned, Beltur again felt that he’d slipped up, that he should have mentioned that iron arrows could sometimes affect white mages, but it was something he’d thought was more common knowledge. Common to mages, but with so few wars involving mages in recent years…?
He shook his head and started toward the tie-line and Slowpoke.
LX
Beltur and Second Recon were awakened well before dawn on fourday morning, but Beltur had no idea what lay in store for them, because the captain had departed to meet with the majer as soon as the company had returned to the warehouse barracks late on threeday afternoon. The barracks were also largely empty except for Second Recon and a single company of foot. As he finished eating a cold breakfast quickly with Zandyr, Beltur thought he saw Cohndar and Waensyn at a table in the poorly lighted corner of the mess. He wasn’t about to go over and greet either.
“Have you heard anything?” asked Zandyr as the two junior officers walked from the mess toward the mustering area in the near darkness.
“You know what I do. I never saw the captain after he went to meet with the majer. Gaermyn didn’t know anything last night.” Beltur didn’t mention that he’d taken the captain’s advice and gone to sleep as early as he could.
“I asked Viltaar—he’s a junior undercaptain with the foot. That’s because his father’s barely a trader. He didn’t know anything, either.”
“Did he have anything else to say?”
“Nothing of interest, except that he agrees with me about the lack of respect we get from the rankers. I can see why they don’t respect him, though.”
Beltur was glad it was dark enough that Zandyr couldn’t see Beltur’s face clearly.
Gaermyn was already outside and roughly in position.
“Do you know what we’ll be doing?” Zandyr asked.
“The captain will brief us quickly after muster.”
“Thank you, ser,” replied Beltur quickly and politely.
“But about what?” pressed Zandyr.
“You’ll find out then, Undercaptain. We’re about to form up.” Gaermyn’s voice was more tired than cold.
Muster was quick, and the rankers were dismissed to duties. Scarcely more than moments later, once again, the four officers sat on stools in the captain’s study around the small table, the small makeshift chamber lit by a single small brass lamp that smoked slightly.
Laugreth began, “Our mission is simple. We’re to use our abilities to get behind the Gallosians on the east side of the river and then make rear attacks on whatever Gallosian force appears vulnerable. These attacks are to inflict as many casualties as possible with as little loss as possible. The aim is to keep the enemy off-balance and unable to advance. We’ve been provided considerably more arrows, enough that each ranker will have two score. There are also a few iron shafts for possible use against white wizards. Those are limited and will remain with First Squad so that Undercaptain Beltur can help direct their use.
“Our scouts have discovered that so far the Gallosians are not using the narrower way that branches off the main east river road and heads more to the east. We will begin by taking that way as far as we can. You’re each to pick up field rations at the stable and make sure your water bottles are full. Keep the extra blankets. We’ll mount up as soon as we finish here. Beltur and I will be with First Squad. Gaermyn with Fifth Squad, and Zandyr with Third Squad. Any questions?”
The last words were spoken with a tone that suggested there shouldn’t be questions, so much so, Beltur noted, that even Zandyr joined in the murmured, “No, ser.”
“Dismissed.” Laugreth immediately stood.
Beltur lagged slightly in leaving the study, letting Zandyr walk beside Gaermyn. Then he ducked back to the cubby he shared with Zandyr to recover his water bottles, which he took to the mess and had the mess ranker fill with ale. After that, he hurried to the stables.
At the entrance stood a ranker beside a stack of cylindrical supply duffels, who immediately addressed Beltur. “Undercaptain, ser, you get two extra water bottles. They have ale in them. Captain’s orders.”
“Thank you.” Beltur took both the proffered duffel and the two water bottles, which were already in a leather holder, clearly designed to fasten to his saddle.
The ranker nodded acknowledgment.
Beltur walked carefully toward Slowpoke’s stall, sensing as much as seeing, given the bare handful of lamps in the stables. Even in the gloom, he had little problem in saddling the big brown gelding, and even figured out the attachment of the extra water bottles. Practice in the dark helps. He shook his head. Who would ever have thought he’d turn out to be an undercaptain, even a temporary one, in a war against the land in which he’d grown up?
With Slowpoke saddled and his gear in place, Beltur led the gelding outside. There he mounted and rode eastward where he again sensed more than saw that Second Recon was forming up. He reined up beside Vaertaag at the head of First Squad.
“First Squad, ready to ride, ser.”
“Very good, Squad Leader. I imagine the captain will be here soon.” Beltur couldn’t imagine that Laugreth wouldn’t be. He glanced to the east, but there was but the faintest glow on the horizon.
As soon as Laugreth reined up, Beltur reported, “First Squad, ready to ride, ser.”
“So are the other squads. You can sense the way until we get more light, Undercaptain?”
“Yes, ser. I can lead the way.”
“Then do so.” Laugreth raised his voice. “Company! Forward!”
Leading the company wasn’t difficult, but it felt strange to Beltur, to say the least, as he guided Slowpoke to the east river road, a way far more traveled, and widened by that travel, over just an eightday.
By the time Beltur had ridden about a kay, but not to where the narrower road forked off, the sky had turned greenish-gray, bright enough that he could see clearly. He still could not sense any armsmen, although he had a vague feel that there were quite a number beyond what he could discern. Within riding another hundred yards or so, that feel turned into a definite sense of more armsmen than he could possibly have counted, at least five hundred, most likely Spidlarian troopers, in position to hold back the Gallosians.
“Ser … our forces are ahead. I’d say a kay and a half.”
“Are there any on the side path?”
Beltur concentrated for a moment. “Yes, ser. There’s a squad at the fork, and there seem to be some on the slopes overlooking the path about as
far away as the other troopers. Two squads, I’d guess, but it’s hard to tell exactly.”
“What about farther than that?”
“I can’t tell. The side road angles more to the east and farther away.”
“Let me know when you can sense more.” Laugreth turned. “Send out two outriders. Just a hundred yards ahead. Tell them to take the east fork when the narrow road joins this one.”
“Yes, ser.”
Beltur watched and kept riding as the two rankers went past.
Although the hills on the east side of the road blocked a direct view of the actual sunrise, a slow flood of slightly orange-tinged white light that replaced the greenish blue of the sky occurred as Second Recon approached the fork where the narrower path-like road angled to the south-southeast from the main road.
Two troopers stood at the fork, and Laugreth reined up short of them. “Have you seen any sign of Gallosians, Squad Leader?”
“No, ser.”
“Very good.”
“Ser…”
“I know. This leads away from the main line of battle, but it’s where the marshal’s sending us.” With a brief smile, Laugreth urged his mount forward.
After riding another half kay, Beltur could sense the nearest Gallosians and immediately raised a shield to block anyone sensing his own order and chaos, but just around himself. That didn’t take all that much effort, and he was going to need all the strength he could muster before the day was over. Then he said, “Ser, there’s a Gallosian force on the road, just beyond where our armsmen are posted on the slopes above it. A company, I think, about a kay ahead.” More important to Beltur was the fact that he didn’t sense a white mage anywhere near the Gallosians, although he thought there were several farther to the west, seemingly amid the leading edge of the Gallosian troopers.
“Foot or mounted?”
“It must be mixed. There are men on foot and those mounted.”
“Do any of them have shields or pikes?”
“I can’t tell. At this distance, I can only make out the outlines of the ground and living things.”
The Mongrel Mage Page 55