Part 15 (1/2)

”Abrax sent me back here. I don't have enough training to be useful.”

”Ah. I suppose that's true enough.” He smiled as if to soften the comment. ”I'm too old to be of any use.”

”I've seen infantrymen with ten years or more on you.”

”I haven't held a rifle in line since drills at the academy. I'm more likely to stick my bayonet into the man beside me than I am to be of any use up there.”

Nila wondered if that were the case. She knew that Adamat had led the charge against Lord Vetas's men. He was more than capable. Perhaps he'd used his age as a pretense to avoid the front. Nila wouldn't have blamed him. Courage, Bo had told her, was overrated.

Adamat certainly didn't look frightened. Just tired. He stared at his feet for a few moments, then raised his head. ”They don't have enough men back here to guard the rear.”

”I was told an entire brigade.”

”The Kez will flank us to the west while General Hilanska hits us from the northeast. I predict this position will be overrun by”-he glanced at his pocket watch-”one o'clock. If we're lucky, we'll be killed outright.” He fingered his cane as if he were wondering how much of a fight he had left in him.

”Lucky? I thought it would be preferable to be taken prisoner.”

He gave her a skeptical look. ”Of course.”

If we survive, he'll be sent to a Kez workhouse. And I'll be pa.s.sed around the infantry until I'm sent to a workhouse as well. Unless an officer catches me first. Then I'll be at his mercy, little more than a slave.

Was that preferable to being killed outright?

Adamat climbed to his feet. The Wings' field artillery had begun to fire, and even at a quarter mile, the sound shook Nila. She remembered the fighting in Adopest between Tamas's men and the royalists and the countless sleepless nights she'd had after escaping. This was going to be so much worse.

”The sound gets to me, too,” Adamat said. ”Infantrymen might get used to it, but we're just civilians. Artillery is terrifying.”

”Like Privileged.”

”Yes. Like Privileged.” He examined her out of the corner of his eye.

Nila pretended not to notice. Yes, she wanted to say, I am a Privileged. But I can't do anything yet.

A distant sound caught Nila's ear. It was hard to hear beneath the report of the artillery fire, but she knew it immediately when she turned toward the Kez lines. It was the rat-tat-tat of snare drums. The Kez columns, infantry in their tens of thousands, were advancing.

The lump in Nila's throat felt like she had swallowed a carriage. She'd never been this terrified, not even beneath Vetas's threats.

She wondered if Jakob was getting along well with Adamat's children. He was a good boy, still far too young to manage on his own. ”Will Faye take care of Jakob after I die?” she asked.

”You won't die,” Adamat said halfheartedly. After a pause, he added, ”She's not the type to turn out a child.”

Nila gave a soft sigh of relief. ”I didn't think so, but I don't know her all that well.”

Several moments pa.s.sed as they watched the Kez continue to advance into the onslaught of artillery fire. ”How the b.l.o.o.d.y pit did I end up here?” Adamat muttered.

Nila didn't think it was meant to be heard. What was going on in the old inspector's head? Was he thinking of his children? Or was he trying to think of a way out? Nila knew that's how she should have been thinking. She glanced toward the lazy fields to their northwest. Maybe she could run for it. Hide in some farmer's wheat field until nightfall and then strike out toward Adopest.

It was worth a shot. Wasn't it?

The sight of something moving out there on the plains killed her hasty plans.

”There are soldiers out there,” Nila said. Adamat turned and gazed toward the northwest for a few moments, squinting.

”Cavalry.” He spit in the dirt and turned toward the closest Wings officer, but it was plain they had already spotted the enemy. A ripple of panic went up among the brigade guarding the camp, and officers had to shout to drown it out.

Adran cavalry. Nila had no idea of their number, but they took her breath away. There must have been thousands. Breastplates glittered in the sun and their Adran-blue jackets and red-striped pants stood out against the tan fields of grain. They must have circled around far to the north and were now blocking the only avenue of retreat.

A Wings colonel sent a messenger running for the front lines. The colonel's face was pale and she gripped her belt with white-knuckled intensity.

Adamat gave a resigned sigh. ”I guess that was predictable,” he said. ”Looks like at least three battalions of cuira.s.siers.”

”Cuira.s.siers?”

”Heavy cavalry. You can tell by the breastplate. Adran cuira.s.siers armor their horses as well.” Adamat pointed to the Wings' infantry as they fell into lines behind the waist-high breastworks that were their only defense. ”They'll break a thin bayonet line like this one without too much problem.”

Adamat headed closer to the rear of the camp, where the Wings' infantry were preparing to make their stand. Nila hesitated for a moment and then followed him.

The Wings' colonel gave him a glance as he approached. ”Civilians should keep away from the front,” she said.

”The front is that way,” Adamat said, pointing behind him.

”Tighten up your men, Cronier,” the colonel shouted. ”If a single man runs, I'll gut him myself!” She looked at Adamat and Nila once more but refrained from commenting.

The Adran cuira.s.siers drew closer. They were taking their time and it wasn't until they stopped some half mile away that Nila realized they were likely waiting for a signal from General Hilanska. They would charge the rear right as the Kez charged the front.

Looking back to the south, she noted that the Kez were still advancing at a slow, methodical rate. The Wings' artillery left scars throughout their ranks, but it seemed to have no more effect than would scratching a giant. They just kept coming on.

On the hill to their northeast, General Hilanska's infantry suddenly surged forward, advancing at a pace just faster than the Kez.

To the northwest, some three thousand cuira.s.siers began to advance at a trot.

It seemed to Nila as if she could see her death advancing across those fields. The cuira.s.siers were really rather splendid, if she considered them without regard to her life. They moved in perfect coordination, the plumes on their horses' heads and the feathers in their steel helmets blowing with the breeze. She wondered if the ground really was shaking, or if it was just her imagination.

”Over there,” Adamat said, his voice coming out a dry croak, ”to the west. Looks like a battalion of Adran lancers.”

She knew that term. More cavalry. Lightly armed.

”They'll swing around and hit our front lines from the west,” the Wings' colonel said. She immediately dispatched another messenger to the front, just as the first messenger returned.

The messenger saluted. ”Brigadier Abrax orders you to hold your fire.”

”Hold my-” The colonel's face turned red. ”Hold my fire? What the pit is that supposed to mean? Those cuira.s.siers will crush us!” She sent the messenger back to the front and fumed silently.

Nila tore her gaze away from the advancing cuira.s.siers. To the northwest, the Adran artillery batteries suddenly belched flame and smoke, their barrels pointed toward the Wings' encampment. Nila squeezed her eyes shut, remembering the terrible whistling of cannon fire at the royalist barricades, and waited for the horrible sound.