Ok, this is the end of 1420. Once this is approved by the moderator (I'm sure I'll get the size warning again), I'll put up the events for 1421 and our mad-cap romp can begin again. Because of the large number of societies involved, it was resolved as a single action. To skip ahead, there were a lot of numbers involved but the end result was a one point victory for the Sinari (marginal success). The resolution was high casualties on both sides, the Sinari held the field but were unable to advance on Unnirand proper (no siege), and Sin-Alb was a factor in the Sinari near win. That is the short version. Below, if you happen to be really interested or really bored, is a more detailed account. M. Keaton Canto of Blood, Opus One (Those events following the Canto of Sand, beginning with the Battle of Unnirand, 1420) "At least I'm safe from them here," growled Ria, twisting to allow her aide de camp, Shadis, to reach the buckles on her torso plate. Michelle shrugged then added, "A bureaucrat never looks for a general among the troops." Beside her, Jen snorted at some private humor and resumed her work. The coterie's barracks filled with the dull rasp of the whetstone as she fought to work the latest notch from her blade. "Got it," grunted Shadis, jerking his head at the younger Markus. The two lifted and Ria shrugged free of the last of her formal armor. "Fools, the lot of them," Ria spat. "With the possible exception of Labon, I doubt they could drown kittens, let alone fight a war." "Ah, well, that's not completely fair," interjected York, the coterie's oldest and only non-Mirish member. A refugee of Myr-Kun, his right to stand among them was unquestioned. "Jen, pass me that oilcloth. Teloras is naïve but remember, this is his land. A cornered rat is always dangerous. And the Duke, he's no battlefield hero, but his tactics are sound." Jen tossed the rag to York. "Yes. It takes a really strong man to advocate scorched-earth and poison on someone else's fields." "Still a good strategy," countered Markus. "Who we need is Agrigax." "I swear that idiot general he sent instead is a political rival sent here to die," hissed Ria, bitterly. "Probably," agreed Shadis. "But if we have to fall back to Tal, we'll all be glad the old king stayed home. I'm going out for more water." "I'll come too," volunteered Markus. "Chief, I'm going to have to replace this buckle." Ria nodded absentmindedly and waved them from the room. She slumped into a chair and clenched her right eye until it watered, fighting the temptation to scratch the itching scar. "Still bothers you?" asked York. "Got sweat in it. Annias says it's healing nicely." Jen gave up and slid her blade back into its scabbard. "What's the verdict on surcoats?" Ria held up her hands to the heavens in supplication. "The Taltherans are still arguing with each other. Each merchant house wants the job but they all want paid for it, too. We're in the middle of the largest war of this century and they're trying to turn a profit. Even if I was willing, we don' t have the gold to pay them." "Give them wood," came a cheerful voice behind her, followed by the closing of the outer door. "Make wooden coins instead of gold. Tell them each coin can be exchanged after the war." "Dworkin the economist," mocked Jen as the newcomer worked to get free of his light chain. "And how, dear shining boy, are we supposed to make arrows if you use all the wood for money?" "Rocks then, even script," Dworkin responded, pulling off his shirt and tossing it into the corner. "I swear, Chief, we have to get lighter armor or we'll all sweat to death." "I'll remember that when a Sinari spear lays open that over-exposed chest of yours," answered Ria. "Good idea, though. Where'd you get it?" "The wooden coins? Back in the imperial days, Mir used to do it to the local merchants all the time. Rapes the local economy, especially if you default later. But, hey, wins the war." "Aren't you supposed to be on duty?" Ria asked. Dworkin nodded. "Aelric and I traded shifts. He wanted to be on with the twins." "Aelric, Learado, and Raphael on duty together. I feel safe," teased York. "Those two are going to die to their own bravado." "I agree." Ria rolled her head from side to side, listening to her neck crack. "That's why I'm leaving you and the twins behind to anchor Michelle when we go into the field." "What? Oh no, Chief, I." "Stow it, York. I need three and your experience balances their puberty." Ria paused as strong hands began to rub her shoulders. "Reese! Ah--thanks," she stammered, trying to cover her surprise. She had long since given up trying to convince the Eerith to stop sneaking up on people. "Sun's going down, evening's coming on. Let's take a walk," he suggested in a tone she knew brooked no argument. "Damn you, Reese. I didn't even get my boots off," she growled and stood. "Jen, make sure the twins make curfew." As she left the building, Dworkin's raucous laughter was answering Michelle' s comments on "Mother Jen." "Kids," Ria groused and scratched at the swelling beneath her eye. "They still see this all as a game." "They're serious enough. Let them be," said Reese. "The closer and more familial a coterie is, the better they work." "You at the Council meeting today?" "Didn't have to be; you were there. I was speaking with other interested parties." "The Fist? Ah, always the Eerith way, both ends to the middle." "With forty thousand Cedonian troops already in place, anyone who thinks Therani will have national sovereignty after this war without outside help is either a fool or just not paying attention." "Assuming there is an after." Ria raised a hand to acknowledge the post guard's salute. "What have you found for me?" "More questions than answers, I'm afraid. Burning back the fields slowed the advance, but it looks like they didn't take the bait on the poisoned grain in the storehouses. The scholar-scouts will confirm that either tomorrow or the next day." "Good discipline," mused Ria. "Too good," Reese replied, and they walked the postern in silence until they had passed the next sentry. "What's the word on the surcoats?" "Stalemate, but Dworkin had an idea that might change that." "Wooden coins on an exchange?" Ria raised an eyebrow in surprise. "How'd you know?" "I was there the first time," Reese answered. "We need those colors. It's always the small things in war. The faster we can get those troops thinking in terms of us, them, and their own regiment instead of which country they came from to begin with, the better." "I tried your idea about reassigning the commanders and having them drill across national lines. That didn't even get past the Council." "Duke Caladyn?" "Everyone. Mostly Cedonia and Taltheran. Taltheran's military structure will not even let us split up the separate armies." "Then they'll die," said Reese simply. "Aye, but not alone. Teloras is willing to do anything I ask to save his people and Labon is a bloody genius. I've half a mind to make him Field General over Cedonia and Taltheran as well as Milakanur." "Do it." "Ha! The Duke would have an apoplexy." "Want me to kill him?" Ria laughed under her breath. "Five years ago, I'd have been shocked by the suggestion. Now, I've already considered it." "Five years ago, you weren't Warlord." "True. But no, I don't want him killed. He's difficult because he's good. If he didn't know his business, I wouldn't have half the trouble with him that I do. Just the opposite, he's a good tactician. The problem is, he's not fighting the same war as I am." "None of them are, except maybe the Dun-Ri and Labon. Taltheran is just playing to keep the wolf from his own door but if the Sinari turn south, he' ll pull out in a heartbeat. The rest are positioning themselves to divide up the spoils after the dust clears." "Milakanur is just as guilty. The only difference is that they are going to take their piece out of the Sinari proper instead of from their former allies. "And," corrected Reese, "Labon has faced the Sinari before. Unlike the others, he believes we can lose. Honestly, I think the others view this as just a prelude to the real fighting with each other. It's inconceivable to them that desert barbarians might best them." "But they aren't desert barbarians anymore, are they?" Ria sighed. "I miss Hisinvol. He was a vicious, tough bastard, but he was human." Reese stopped his measured stride and, grasping her shoulder, turned Ria to face him as he spoke. "Ria, I have seen professional armies overrun positions and overextend themselves into a counterattack. I've seen the regiments of Old Cedonia fall apart sacking a city because they started looting before securing their position. I have seen veteran soldiers cross burned fields and fall to eating poisoned food even as their commanders screamed for them to stop. What I have not seen is the Sinari do any of these things. Forget that they are nomads; these people have better discipline than a professional corps." He released her and resumed their walk, speaking calmly over his shoulder. "Your Cedoninian advisors are telling you that we only face a fraction of the Sinari force and that most of those have low morale. It's a reasonable assumption if we were facing a normal army. This isn't. This is jyhad, a god's war lead by the god himself. No, right now, even the conscripts are caught up in the holy fervor. No loses, no mistakes, no hesitation-if this were a war with conventional motivations, I'd say we were witnessing the birth of the next empire." "What do you mean by 'conventional motives'?" "I don't know this for certain, but if I were to guess, I'd say that the garrisons left behind at each city are no more than the absolute minimum to hold the supply lines. I haven't seen anything so far that indicates the Sinari care about holding the land they take. This seems to be all about getting to a city, holding it long enough to get what they need, and moving forward again. The Sinari are moving less like an army and more like a swarm of locust." Ria raised a hand to the sentry as they passed then told Reese, "I don't see what you're getting at." "I'm not sure myself. Think: if you were going to conquer the Wyr basin, how would you do it?" Ria shrugged. "I'd take Myr-Kun and sweep the river south.no! No I wouldn' t! That's backwards! I'd cut south into Tal and move out, with Myr-Kun last. I'd hold from Tal to Wyr before any of the others could mobilize. By then, they'd be hard pressed to get to Myr-Kun before I did and to do it, they would either have to force-march across the desert, fight up my flank along the river, or put to sea in the storm season. Even then, they would have a nightmare supply line and, with luck, I could hit Myr-Kun right before the storms and cut up the reinforcements from inside their own city. By taking Myr-Kun first and then coming inland, they gave us this united army on a silver platter. That's insane!" "Unless they wanted it that way." Ria considered that before replying. "If you didn't care about casualties and thought you could win, it makes sense. A complete defeat here breaks the back of almost every kingdom in the basin. Problem with that is, if that's your goal, you garrison your route heavily because too much relies on holding the port of Myr-Kun and the Wyr River. You don't think that is the case, so, what else can it be?" "What if this war is objective-based rather than territorial? The Sinari took Myr-Kun first because they had to, to get the Mirror. Once they have it, they strip the city and move on." Ria nodded. "Makes sense with what we know. Presuming then that the cities of the Wyr basin were taken to restock and provision along the way instead of for any territorial value, then the real question is: Where or what are they after next?" It was Reese's turn to shrug. "I have no idea. I just wanted to make sure we were both thinking the same way. From here, it's out of our hands. That side of the war is up to the sage and the scholar. What we take from it is the knowledge that the Sinari can't bypass us because they can't afford an enemy at their back and they need Unnirand to regroup and stage from; and that they are willing to throw away a lot of bodies to get what they want because they don't need to hold what they take after the war." "Sin-Alb is using the Sinari as a hammer and is perfectly willing to use them up," agreed Ria. "As long as they win, it doesn't matter how many on either side die. And, if we fall back and they change direction, we have to chase them down and get in the way again." "So, we might as well risk it and hold here as long as we can, because at least this is a battlefield of our choosing," Reese concluded for her. "Thanks, Reese. I needed cheering up." The sarcasm was lost on the Eerith. "How long do we have?" "A week, maybe less. What next, oh mighty Warlord?" "Next.next I think we stop playing with diplomats and act like a Warlord for a change," she said calmly, then sprinted to the next sentry before Reese could stop her. "I want the ranking members of the War Council back in chambers in twenty minutes. Get your C.O." she ordered. "Reese can stand your watch until you get a replacement." "But, Madam Warlord, sir, they'll be asleep by now." Ria pulled back her lips into a predatory grin. "Then they shouldn't be hard to find." *** She was able to ride the emotional energies of frustration and fear until things were too far along to change her mind, and then Ria simply refused to second-guess herself. Right or wrong, she was a soldier, not a politician, and it was time to start acting like one. Sometime after she had reached the council chamber, Reese had found a replacement for the sentry and had appointed himself head greeter for the emergency meeting. She was grateful, as she brooded undisturbed at the opposite end of the chamber, but his tact was.Finally she admitted to herself that Reese had no tact. With very few deviations, the conversations she overhead were remarkably similar. "What's this all about?" an indignant voice would demand; and Reese would explain. "Shut up and sit down or I will break your arm." The end result was that everyone was upset but at least they were all equally upset and more than a little unsettled. Ria was roused from her thoughts by a loud, deliberately false, cough. When she looked up, Labon said softly, "We're all here, Warlord." She took a moment to steady herself, glanced around the room to insure herself that everyone was, in fact, present, and began. "We have less than seven days before we face a foe which has the capacity to overwhelm us by numbers alone. We need every man, woman, or child that can hold a weapon with us if we are to have a chance of winning. You all know this, but I wanted you to hear it again so that you can put what I'm about to say in its proper perspective." She took a deep breath and pronounced in a firm tone, "If you are not prepared to follow my orders, to the letter, without question, then get out now. Take your troops and leave. Spare the rest of us your disruptions and stop wasting our resources. Leave! Am I clear on this?" Despite a wave of nervous shuffling and muttered complaints, she was pleased, and a little surprised, to see that no one moved to go. "Could I get the leader of the Taltheran forces to stand up? Good. As I understand it, each of the merchant armies and the Royal Army have their own leaders and chain of command." "That is correct." "And King Agrigax then placed you as an overall commander of these forces." "Indeed." Ria heard a touch of pride in the reply and almost regretted what she was about to do. "And, despite this direct commission from your King, various factions of your army refuse to accommodate my supply requests and, by your own admission, some of these forces may not be counted upon to actually commit to the field of battle." "Ahem--regrettably, this is also true, Warlord." "Very well, then. You are discharged for general incompetence. You may either return to your King and tell him of your failure or you may report to a Taltheran commander of your choice and take service in whatever position they see fit to assign." She deliberately turned her back and ignored the explosion of voices in the room. She hoped that Eubatrosa would be able to douse the political fires she was setting. When the chamber had quieted, she resumed speaking, her back still to the assembly. "In a few minutes, I'm going to appoint my field generals. After that, I will deal only with them. It will be their responsibility to make sure that my commands are carried out and that vital information is passed to me. I can't personally command over one hundred thousand troops, nor do I wish to. These generals will be charged to take whatever actions they feel are appropriate to carry out my commands. "Before I name my generals and dismiss you, there are things I want everyone to hear and understand. We are at war. In war, one man's faults can result in the death of a hundred men or more. Refusal to obey a direct order is punishable by death. Likewise, if one of my generals should encounter a situation where they feel that a lack of compliance by an individual places our war efforts in jeopardy, that general can have them executed. We can debate morality later. For now, we are at war and I'll strangle you myself before I let one man's pride cost us one life on the battlefield. If you can't accept this, leave. Now." Ria forced herself to wait for agonizing minutes before she turned. If desertions occurred, they would be done under the cover of night. She was sure her forces would be smaller come the dawn, but she still half-expected some to leave publicly now. None did; she fought not to show her relief as she turned to address the room. "Dun Ri Teloras Fethoran, I need you to command the defense of Unnirand proper as well as our light infantry and conscript militias in the field. Most of these troops already serve under you as the Ther-Ri. The city's defense will be supplemented by the forces of the Burcany, Myr-Kun, the Fey, and those Mirish forces which I, myself, do not lead into the field. I would ask you to delegate this command as you see fit and concentrate your efforts on our forces in the field. With this in mind, I would also have you assume command of the Milakanur and Cedonian light infantry cohorts. Finally, I would have you transfer command of your scholar-scouts to Master Scourge Labon. Will you do this?" "I will." "Thank you. Master Scourge Labon, I need you to command our heavy infantry and crossbowmen in the field. Most of these will be your own Milakanur troops supplemented by the heavy infantry of Cedonia and the Taltheran Royal Army. I would also have you take command of the Taltheran merchant house armies. Keep these forces from the field of battle proper and insure our supply lines. Finally, accept command of the Dun Ri's scouts and use them in conjunction with the Taltheran thiranth riders to keep us appraised of the Sinari advance. Will you do this?" "I will." "Duke Caladyn, I have reassigned a large portion of your forces because I need you to concentrate on those specialty units which are Cedonia's heritage. I need you to command my light cavalry, heavy cavalry, longbowmen, and the various arcane artillery units. I realize this is an unusual mixture and that each of these is a separate challenge in and of itself. Will you, can you, take this responsibility?" "I will." "Very well, gentlemen. I want each general to figure out the color schemes you will need to use to differentiate your units and pass these requests to General Labon. He will arrange delivery with the Taltherian merchant houses. You're all dismissed and I want to see my high command back here at sunrise. We'll begin drilling the new cohorts by tomorrow afternoon. From here on, there is only one army here-mine. Dismissed." The room's occupants sat in a mixture of shock and confusion until Reese shouted, "You heard the Warlord! Dismissed!" Ria retreated into the shadowed recesses of the room as the assemblage shuffled out, many of which did so very angrily. "Bravely done," whispered Reese, suddenly at her side. "I've made more than a few enemies today." "And you've saved more than a few lives. We are warriors, not diplomats. Just concentrate on the job at hand. With luck, you'll have plenty of time to sooth injured prides after the Sinari finish trying to kill us." *** It seemed a day for good news. Not only had Labon been able to get the merchant houses to accept the wooden coins, but the three generals had managed to arrange color schemes close to most of the regiments' original flags-close enough to be familiar; different enough to remind everyone that, at least for now, the old national rivalries were set aside. After the first two days of mixed drills, the new regiments seemed to have stopped fighting among themselves and even the off-duty brawling had trailed off. It was Dworkin, however, who brought the best news of the day. Ria had spread her coterie members through the assembled forces, looking forward to the day when she would break the group up and each would lead their own coterie. Dworkin and Aelric had shown a natural affinity for scouting and intelligence work and Ria encouraged it, letting the two work almost constantly with Labon's scouts. The news was Labon's to tell, but Dworkin found her first. "They burned the bridge at Hadrair!" he yelled, racing toward her across the practice range. "Hadrair burned their bridge and the Sinari didn't cross before the storms!" "Where's Labon?" she shouted back, jogging toward him. "Getting the Dun Ri and the Duke." "Have them meet me in the map room," she ordered, her mind racing with the unexpected news. The fords to cross the Wyr were impassable during the run-off after the storm season. With the river swollen, even the regular ferries would not be able to cross for at least two more weeks, longer if it rained. If the forces at Hadrair had destroyed their bridge across the Wyr before the Sinari could cross, the only way for them to reach the city would be by crossing the bridge at Unnirand proper or waiting until the river lowered. The Duke was already in the map room and Labon arrived seconds behind her, Dun Ri in tow. "Our troop placement just got a lot simpler," Labon commented as he moved to stand over the table. "The Sinari, or at least their main force, are still on the south side of the river. We can engage them with the Wyr at our backs, hold as long as we can, fall back, sap our bridge, and buy a solid fortnight to prepare for their crossing." "Any chance they'll bypass us and march on Pran?" asked the Dun Ri. "No," answered Ria. "The river will not stay high long enough. We'd have them in a vice before they could break the city." "Can we sap the bridge fast enough?" "We'll put the mage artillery groups to work on it. Have them hold the bridge until we get back across then blow it apart. That'll keep them out of the main fighting until they have more experience. The Sinari don't have major spellcraft we'll need to counter, not that we've seen so far. I'll take my coterie just in case." Ria smiled to herself. "Gentlemen, we can do this." *** "Stop fidgeting," hissed Shadis, standing behind Ria, looking forward. "At least you get a chair." "Aides don't get tired," she snapped back, rolling her shoulders in a vain attempt to shift her armor into a more comfortable arrangement. The Duke of Caladyn laughed softly beside her. "The people must have their ceremony, even if it kills us." "We should have taken a cue from Labon and just not shown up," agreed the Dun-Ri beside him and Ria laughed in spite of herself. Even knowing the exhausting ride that the general was making, she would still have traded places with him to get off the parade stand. For no greater cause than boosting morale, the three commanders and their aides spent the entire morning watching each of the reformed regiments pass in review. As much as she hated the ceremony and the tedium, this would be the last opportunity for anything resembling festivities for a long while. Even Reese, who resented even the smallest waste of time, had been forced to agree that the intangible gains outweighed the lost day of training, especially considering the news that awaited their troops at day's end. On the other hand, Ria mused to herself, Reese did not have to sit on the wooden planking all day either. Labon, with Reese as escort, had chosen the Sinari over the hazards of the parade grounds. The two had ridden out at sundown the previous night to meet with the scouts and, as Labon phrased it, get the lay of the land. Unlike most of their forces, the scouts would not be pulled back across the Wyr. Without the ability to come and go quickly and quietly, the scouts would be rendered ineffective. Theoretically, they would still be supplied and reporting through the merchant armies securing Pran. In actuality, it might be a long time before the scouts and their commander could meet face to face again. "That's the last of them," the Dun-Ri observed, and Shadis responded by collapsing full length on the boards of the parade stand. The other aides were not so flamboyant, but they were quick to sit. Ria was equally quick to relinquish her section of the split rail bench and walk on stiff legs. "Gods, what a torment," Teloras muttered. "After that, the Sinari don't seem so bad." He was answered with a smattering of forced laughter. In the rest of Unnirand, soldiers and civilians alike were taking the remainder of the day as an opportunity for a celebration while their unit commanders would be making their way back to the parade grounds for the day's final briefing. "Back to work," sighed Duke Caladyn. Ria followed his gaze to see a haggard Labon making his way toward them. A night and a day spent in the saddle appeared to have taken its toll on the weary Milakanur. The Dun-Ri braced his feet on the stand's lip and extended his arm to pull Labon up onto the platform. "You look tired." Labon nodded. "Long night. We had to play cat and mouse with a Sinari scouting party." Ria let out a low whistle. "They're close, then." "Two days, maybe less. Their scouts and ours are starting to look at the same fields. No confrontations yet, but it's just a matter of time." "And their vanguard?" Like most large armies, the Sinari troops were moving in three blocks-vanward, center, and rearward-with supply trains and camp followers closely in the rearward wake. Labon shrugged, then added, "They seem to stay close to the main force. The Sinari have an unusually high ratio of mounted to foot, though. I still expect them to pull away as they get closer and cast their nets." "And the Van itself?" Teloras asked. Labon hesitated for a beat before answering. "Well over one hundred." Ria cursed roundly. "Is it possible that they've overweighted their vanward?" "No. We can't get close enough for reliable estimates, but the dust trails themselves make it fairly clear that the center is at least twice that." Labon sat down heavily on the planking and sighed. "They're about half again as many as we though." Shadis clambered back to his feet. "Does that change our stance?" Ria shook her head. "Not in the short term, and we really didn't have a coherent plan after that anyway." "Steward!" the Dun-Ri shouted from the edge of the parade stand. "Sir!" "How many unit commanders have reported back?" "Somewhere over two thirds." A moment later the steward added, "Looks like all the major companies have reported, Sir." "I'm going to start. If we wait for every petty chief to wander back, we'll be here until midnight," Teloras told Ria and she nodded in agreement. Even though it was her army, they had decided early on that the Dun-Ri was best suited for delivering the daily briefings. "What about Annenayea?" Ria asked, turning back to Labon. "It's there, big as life and twice as ugly. My scouts say it's been consistently moving above the vanward cohort." "Well," she sighed, "If Sin-Alb is going to put in an appearance in this war, let's hope he holds off one more fight." "We expect to engage the Sinari before the end of the next two days," the Dun-Ri was saying. "What they expect to find, what they should reasonably encounter, is the Unnirand bridge burned to the water line and the lot of us crouched inside our dykes and trenches, prepared for siege. "We are not going to be reasonable. Our preparations are incomplete and, as a united force, we are woefully undertrained. More to the point, the Sinari seem to be driving for a specific destination. There is no reason not to expect that, if they believe it feasible, they will leave a fraction of their forces behind to keep us penned in and continue to drive west and south. I shouldn't need to remind you that such an advance would be against cities effectively unguarded and hopelessly outmanned. "With this in mind, we must do two things. We must halt their advance while retaining our localized mobility. And, we must convince the Sinari that we are sufficiently aggressive and capable to require them to defeat us before they continue their advance. "That is correct, gentlemen: we have to take an army not yet ready to fight and stall the Sinari advance without appearing to favor a defensive posture. "As we see it, there is only one way to do that. We are going to hand the Sinari the first appreciable defeat of this war! We are going to sting them so deeply that they will not rest until this hornets' nest is burned to the ground!" The Dun-Ri paused until the scattered cheering ended. "He could have chosen a better analogy," whispered Shadis in her ear and Ria fought not to smile. She could not fault the enthusiasm, but she was not sure if getting burned to the ground was actually a sound military objective. "Specifically," Teloras continued, "Using core troops from those regiments which were previously stationed together, we will engage the Sinari vanward forces and inflict incredibly high casualties before falling back across the bridge to Unnirand. We will then, and only then, destroy the bridge to delay the Sinari until the Wyr settles into its banks. "Let me repeat: Only a portion of our regiments will engage the Sinari. The remainder will be assigned defensive positions around the city. It is reasonable to assume that the Sinari may have troops on this side of the Wyr River in small numbers. "Let me also repeat: It is not our intention to route the Sinari vanward. We will inflict as much damage as possible before falling back to a more defensible position. It is imperative, however, that we strike a decisive, offensive blow against our enemies and for the people of Qaiyore!" Under the cover of a new wave of cheers, Caladyn leaned to Labon and commented, "Five to one. We need to hit them for at least five to one casualties." "Not going to happen," Labon replied. "Maybe three but no way we can hit five." "A gentlemen's wager? Say, fifty pieces of silver?" "A trifle. Done." "Quiet!" commanded the Dun-Ri when the crowd refused to calm. "Now-for this operation, the following units must present themselves in a state of readiness." As he began to list forces, Ria stopped listening and began to plot her personal assault on the chief's mess and then her bed. *** The morning was cool and a low fog blanketed the lowlands at the edge of the Wyr floodplain. The once rolling woodlands had been stripped bare and, in places, gouged by wagon ruts, spiked berms, and shallow ditches. It would be several years before the forests and fields of the Wyr basin recovered from the war, if ever. Despite the chill, Ria had managed to steal a few hours of sleep, some of it in full armor and on horseback. One of the first things Reese had taught her was a soldier sleeps when he can and eats when it's offered. The Sinari outriders had skirmished briefly with the outer guard ring before they realized there was a much larger force cloaked in the fog. Smaller, faster bands had probed the edges most of the morning, scouting the unexpected resistance. The United forces had moved enough troops across the Wyr to secure their position the morning after the Dun-Ri's last briefing, following with their main force throughout the remainder of the day, and, as it turned out, most of the night. Their greatest concern, that the bridge would be a bottleneck while moving the troops, had turned out to be unwarranted. The real delay was dunking heads into water troughs until the previous day's cobwebs were washed from overindulgent heads. In spite of the discipline problems, Ria had been pleased. Learning that the bridge was indeed wide enough to move entire cohorts across at a trot had been a significant relief. After that, it would take more than a few drunks to ruin her mood. The Taltherian Royals would probably take the worst of the Sinari assault but there was no avoiding it. In order to succeed, especially in light of the Milakanur plan, the right forward had to be anchored by a reliable heavy infantry, and that meant the Royals. The heavy infantry was dug in behind a waist-deep berm which formed an arching 'L' around the forward right corner-eight thousand men to hold what would probably be the pivotal point in the battle. Caladyn had fought to command them personally until Ria had pointed out that she needed him with the cavalry even more. The Royals were supported by longbowmen behind and the pikemen of the militia Conscripts to the side. A five hundred pace gap separated the pikemen from the massed light infantry on their left. Unlike the Royals, the general infantry was not entrenched. Where the heavy infantry was to hold position, the Regulars would need to move. >From her position behind them and on the crest of the small rise at the foot of the bridge, Ria could see Labon riding among his troops, trading ribald jests with his officers to keep morale high. Roughly half of the available cavalry were behind the Regulars, poised to move forward through the gap or around the right flank. The remainder were similarly positioned on the left. The Sinari would have a significant advantage in maneuverability, with almost half of their vanward composed of Catayarsh riders. Ria had no real idea how the smaller, faster Sinari mounted would deploy, so she had been forced to hold most of her own cavalry in reserve. The United riders might be slower but they were significantly heavier and better armored than the Sinari. If they could pin the Catayarsh riders or meet them in a charge, she had no doubt who would emerge victorious. She vainly hoped that the Sinari did not share her appraisal. The cat-riders had not yet faced any mounted resistance and Ria hoped they would learn their lessons the painful way. On the rise leading up to the bridge was positioned what had been christened the Army of Observation. The army was small compared to the other cohorts on the field-four rows of bowmen fronted by eight ranks of pikes, both flanks anchored by a column of heavy billmen-but the Army of Observation had only two roles. Currently, they were to insure the main force was not cut off from their line of retreat and provide defense for Ria, her coterie, and the squadron of messengers she would need to communicate with the various units on the main field. Later, the Army of Observation would hold while the survivors of the main force limped back across the bridge. She had no artillery, a fact which galled her no small amount. The Dun-Ri had fallen into the age-old misconception that the heavy engines were useful only for siege and Labon's engines had been left behind in Milakanur to insure his army could move fast enough to arrive in time to make a difference. The Cedonians, the logical choice to have provided artillery, had chosen not to, presuming that, with Mirish mages present, there would be no need for it. That assumption had infuriated her-it was so wrong on so many levels, she had almost choked in frustration trying to explain why to her generals. Even if full coteries had been trained, the very idea of magi strolling across the battlefield, tossing fire and lightning around like a prince tossing coins to a crowd, was hopelessly naïve. If for no other reason, she had almost shouted at them, than arrows-hit a catapult with a quarrel and it continues to fire; hit a mage and they die. Reese had pulled her teeth then, commenting from a shadowed corner: Arrow, rock, whatever is faster. It was hard to believe she had ever been that young. She was roused from her thoughts by the approach of riders. She recognized the colors of Labon's scouts and saw, to her surprise, that Reese rode among them. She saw him shout something to the other scouts and break away to ride toward the Army of Observation. She kneed her gelding and rode to meet him. "I though you'd want me to confirm," he said by way of explanation as he grew close. "The vanward has pulled away from the center and is forming up. We'll have our fight, and soon." Ria grinned and nodded. One of her greatest fears had been that the commander of the vanward would wait for the center to move forward and join them before engaging. If so, the entire United force would be forced to retreat and all the preparations would have been for naught. As it was, they would face only the vanward as she had hoped. Her forces would still be outnumbered three to one, but this was a winnable battle if there were no surprises. "Reese, go to Namurien on the bridge. He's the Mir commander. Tell him I want you to take over the magi on the bridge. He'll understand." "As you will, Warlord. For Valor." "No regrets." She clapped the Eerith on the shoulder and turned her mount back to her own command. "Chief! Message!" called Shadis as she returned. "Spill it." "The Dun-Ri still insists that he will command the Conscripts personally but he has agreed with your, umm, suggestion that he do so from within the adjoining Royals." "Good." The Dun-Ri was beginning to embody both problems Reese had warned her of in a young commander. Each Warlord, according to the Eerith, had wrestled with two quandaries of command which had no answer. The first she simply accepted and placed in the hands of the gods; a good leader was too valuable to risk in battle and too valuable not to risk in battle. It was the second which she was going to have to answer with the Dun-Ri, if they lived: How do you encourage initiative in your commanders without losing control of them? She needed the Dun-Ri to make judgement calls on the battlefield but she also needed him to follow orders. And to follow them where they were given; the man was developing a habit of complying in his own, sweet time. The Sinari vanward was beginning to amass just out of arrow range. Ria vainly wished again for artillery engines, even a few scorpions, to push that line farther back. Battles were won and lost in this initial placement. When she had first begun her training to be Warlord, she had been caught up in the ideal of fast, clean battles with generals giving lots of dramatic orders and fancy maneuvers. In order to cure her, Reese had taken her away from "official" histories in the Mirish libraries and set her to studying the journals and diaries held within the vaults below the city. She was initially surprised that Reese had placed as much stock in an infantryman's field diary and letters home as in the guilded journals of previous Archmages and Warlords. What she had learned was sobering: once the battle was joined, there was very little that could be done to affect the outcome other than just fight like mad. Wars were won and lost in the planning; battles, in the trenches. The Sinari vanward was forming for a rush. Catayarsh riders were swelling into loose ranks on either flank while row upon row of infantry amassed in a long line between the two mounted clusters. Ria was extremely pleased to see the footmen milling about with no set regiments or uniformity of weapons. Even more heartening was the Sinari's continued disdain for armor and shields. She felt it before she saw it, and Ria added her own voice to the involuntary gasp of the United armies. A black shadow slid across the battlefield like an eclipse of hope, blotting out the sun and casting an icy pall: the damned city of Annenayea hung in dire silhouette above them, where previously there had been only clear sky. The base of the city was ragged, shattered spurs of rock and long dead roots thrust down like millipede legs, dampened and obscured by the frigid mists of the river which poured from its lip and never reached the ground. A scintillating eggshell of power encased the city, colors twisting translucently about like a soap bubble, and black tentacles of mercurial lightning slithered through the arcane shield. Ria could catch glimpses of the upper city through the glow. Great towers of stone and quartz reached like giant fingers to clutch at the heavens, spanned by soaring bridges and cozened by great crystal buttresses. In places, the spires and towers had fallen or been broken off and lay propped against their brothers, a megalithic tumble of splintered grandeur, crushed skeleton of an acropolis. In the distance, through the shadows and light, she saw things move, dark leather winged forms that leapt and flew among the ruins, and she was afraid. "Dun-Ri! Dun-Ri! Dun-Ri!" The chanting was faint and scattered; Ria looked down to see her army edging back in fear, units pulling apart, men edging on a rout. But in the Conscripts, from a handful of men, the chanting grew and spread and the lines of the militia were solid again as they chanted for their commander--the man who, perhaps for the rest of their lives, would be their god. Her own men caught up her name and Ria thrust her fist into the air, in that moment, borne up by the strength of those around her greater than any desert deity. The chants became a roar, a wordless cry of defiance by men who would not bow before fate, who would defy man, beast, and god in defense of their homes and of their dreams, and as some sixty thousand men cried out, with one voice, with one goal, it was the Sinari who quailed; and then, as if sensing the battle slip away before it had begun, as a swarm, they charged. This was the cavalry's moment. Even as the Sinari began their run, the heavy mounted, Caladyn at their head, thundered through the gap in the footmen and swept right, in front of the Royals, to crash into the Sinari infantry like a great scythe, felling the wheat of running men, the front ranks gone before they knew that the pale horses of death rode among them. The Catayarsh riders nearest tried to turn centerward, cutting in front of their footmen, hoping to engage the cavalry and pin it against the Sinari foot. Instead, as they rode clear of their runners, the entrenched longbows throbbed with a single pulse and a hail of black-shafted death fell upon them. Men fell from their mounts and were trampled by the weight of riders behind them. Catayarsh screamed in feline howls and lashed about in pain, blindly striking at their fellows. The bows thrummed again and the Sinari mounted became a boiling pustule of screams and blood and chaos. In the United center, Labon had followed the cavalry's rightward strike with a forward charge of his own and the two infantries rushed together like long separated lovers, eager to embrace. The crash of their meeting shook the earth beneath them and great clouds of dust billowed into the air as the battle for the center became a reflexive fight for survival. The Sinari cavalry facing Ria's left surged then drew to a halt, facing the cavalry block she had positioned there. The two mounted columns seemed to be locked in a battle of stares and will, neither willing to commit and give the other an opening. The archers of the right fired again into the frenzied Catayarsh and fell silent. Ria sent runners to order their return; the bowmen were too valuable for the coming siege to risk from here on in the battle. As the horns blared within the bowmen ordering their withdrawal, the heavy cavalry disengaged, riding back, not to the gap, but to reform on the right flank, next to the entrenched Royals. Those who did not, or could not, died. In the center, both sides held firm, but the sheer mass of Sinari was beginning to take its toll. Already, the Sinari had recovered from Labon's counter-charge and was moving to envelope. Soon, the gap between the heavy foot and the Conscripts would become a liability. Ria need not have worried; Caladyn had chosen his unit commanders well. Even as the first cavalry block withdrew, the final reserve cavalry hit the gap. The Sinari infantry braced for the charge, this time forming close and setting spears, and as she watched, a fierce grin split her face. Labon had predicted this and now, the combination of Cedonian discipline and Milakanur experience would yield fruit. The reserve cavalry were light skirmish units armed with light crossbow and short blade rather than lance and axe. They rode hell-bent for the waiting Sinari spears and then, less than twenty yards away from the line, they caracoled right, across the Sinari front. Most made the tight cut but some fell, their horses collapsing beneath them as they lost footing. Men died beneath flailing hooves or crushed by a ton of rolling equine. The front wave of skirmishers fired their crossbows almost point-blank into the Sinari line, then fell back to reload as the next wave and then the next repeated the maneuver. The Sinari foot, unarmored, was shredded under the unrelenting fire. As they were, Caladyn led his regrouped mounted into the remains of the Sinari left Catayarsh. With the Sinari left broken, the Dun-Ri's militia closed the cavalry gap and tried to hold Labon's right. On the United left, the two mounted units continued their standoff. Caladyn's men regrouped again. Less than one-third remained after routing the Catayarsh. The fragmented Sinari left foot broke ranks and launched a ragged surge toward the skirmishers. The two United mounted units rushed past each other and the heavier cavalry fell upon the broken infantry as easy meat. Ria turned to Shadis beside her. "Send a runner. The light mounted are to withdraw across the bridge." Another unit to valuable in the long conflict to risk now, especially since they were almost certainly low on bolts, she added mentally. Unlike the armored infantry, the Dun-Ri's Conscripts were no match for the more experienced and more numerous Sinari. They had prevented the Sinari from cutting into Labon's flank, but only that. The cost was extreme and now, as the armored infantry fell back toward the entrenched Royals, the surviving Conscripts fought among them. It was the Royals, unchallenged until now, who would face the brunt of the Sinari as the Regulars fell back. For a moment, the two armies pulled apart as the Sinari regrouped for a counter-attack. Labon made good use of the pause, pulling his men back in a withdrawal that bordered on a rout. Like an angry serpent, the Sinari foot coiled and struck, breaking against the entrenched Royals in a wave. Once, twice, three times they crashed and were repulsed. A fourth time the heavy infantry pushed them back but now many of the earthworks were torn down and there were gaps in the Royals' lines. The left United cavalry, almost forgotten in the standoff, charged the Catayarsh fronting them. Before they reached them, the Sinari mounted broke and fled the field. The Sinari foot struck for a fifth time, pouring over the dykes and into the trenches, pushing the Royals before them, when the now-unopposed cavalry struck their right rear. Labon rallied his Regulars and, with the remains of Caladyn's heavy cavalry, pounced on the Sinari left. Ria saw the field develop into an almost classic double envelopment, but only if the crumbling center could hold long enough to pull the noose tight. If the Sinari foot could push through the sagging Royals or if the Catayarsh should regroup before the Sinari foot was broken, the United forces would collapse. "Shadis!" she shouted. "Assume my command! Coterie! To me!" It was insane to think the five of them could turn the battle, but what else did she have? She dare not commit the Army of Observation or the Sinari could cut them off from the bridge and slaughter them to a man. The power of a coterie was legendary; it was time to find out if Reese's training was enough. Mentally, she felt the cold touch of other minds as Michelle reached for them, weaving the coterie into a single unit, touching the three anchors in Unnirand as well, placing it all at her will. Which is faster, magic or a rock? Reese had asked her that years ago. The answer was 'yes'. The great power of a coterie was twofold. They were warriors as well as magus; their armor strengthened; reflexes faster; bodies stronger; weapons sharper and more deadly; their magic turned inward rather than outward in simple follies of fire and ice. And their power as an individual was the power of the whole. The strength of one of them was not just their own, but the composite power of the entire coterie, even the anchors, fed into each action and each blow. As Michelle wove them together, time slowed and Ria's vision expanded. Power rushed through her and she felt her body flush as a red haze roared behind her eyes. Somewhere in their rush, the coterie had abandoned their horses, running now faster than any beast. Ria, Jen, and Dworkin struck the Sinari rear more abruptly and more deadly than any sudden desert storm. Aelric and Michelle hung back, protecting their connection with the anchors. Ria was four ranks deep in death before she consciously realized she was fighting, seven more before the Sinari knew she was there. She hesitated a moment, fearing the inertia of their attack would drive the Sinari through the Royals' weakened center. She saw the line stiffen as panic set in among the trapped footmen and resumed her slaughter. So easy; she began to laugh as rank after rank of men collapsed. She was swinging her broadsword with one hand now, striking out with the other unarmed, the force of her gauntleted hand enough to collapse ribcages and snap necks. With each death, the power raced back to her two-fold. Life was in the blood and power was in the life. With each kill, she drank it like a cloying wine. The earth rose up to strike at her then fell away. She landed like a cat and saw at once the entire field. Great meteors of fire and tar the size of a man rained down from the floating city above, striking and exploding, spraying a clinging fire on United and Sinari alike. The smell of burning meat, the sizzle of fat and screams of agony so intense they became inhuman, panic reigned supreme-Sin-Alb had finally joined his war, tossing hellfire carelessly among the combatants and the bridge. Even through her fog of bloodlust, Ria felt the silver stab of fear as a trio of meteors smashed into the bridge, their only line of retreat. The falling stars never struck. Reese stood before the bridge, arms upraised, parallel, before his face. He caught the missiles on his forearms and his human appearance burned away like a coating of wax. The Eerith swelled into a column of white intensity, pinions of blue lighting stretching from his back to shelter the bridge, and the blazing light bleached the battlefield white, black smoke rolling like living shadows across it. "GO!" she shouted, power coursing through her voice, carrying her roar across the field like the snap of a mountain breaking. What had once been a battlefield became a plain of running mobs, thoughts of war temporarily supplanted by the frenzy to survive. No more, she thought, and pulled the strength of the coterie into herself. She willed her power toward the city and reality bled into a nightmarish vision of arcane energy and death. The damned city sat like a flower upon a stalk; a stalk which was the pulse of power sucked from the dead and dying below; a black heart feasting on the fear and pain, a dark necromancy too elemental to be denied, too beautiful to resist, too ruthlessly pragmatic to be other than human in origin. She struck at the stem, wrenching away a portion of the pulse, feasting on it herself, growing, grappling now with an unseen enemy to feed her hunger. And, as she did so, Ria brushed its mind. a jewel of power, an untapped fount of throbbing in the earth, the power of a god and more, calling, pulling, as natural as a river to the sea, this present power so small, a trivial distraction, a stepping stone to glory, an aching hunger, hanging like a sentence unfinished, a jewel of power hanging out of reach in the dark, a need, divine beyond divine, a god of gods, reaching Ria fell, cold earth striking her face, acrid smoke binding staring, unblinking blind eyes, a burning tearing within her chest. She lay prostate, clenching bloody dirt in her fists, almost too tired to breathe. *** It was raining. As she stared at the slate grey sky over Unnirand and felt the sky cry tears she could not shed, for now, it was enough. Forty thousand United dead or missing. Estimated Sinari losses three times that. Unnirand bridge sapped. The Dun-Ri in bed with a sprained ankle and a broken nose. Labon, ambulatory, but with scarring burns to his chest and neck. Aelric, dead. "I've set crews to logging and Caladyn is overseeing construction of artillery engines personally," said Reese behind her. She answered without turning. "Thank you, friend." "For Valor, Warlord," he replied gently. She nodded. "No regrets." ---------------------------------------------------------------- To unsubscribe, send mail to celandra-off@phoenyx.net.
