Part 45 (1/2)

General Turbery was evidently not aware of the problems of the Left Wing, and, as he saw his foe in plain sight, he called for a charge, and the Center crashed forward, out of the water onto dry land.

Without even waiting until they were within arrow range, the Kallians began falling back. Perhaps Turbery thought they had panicked, seeing the determined Numantians come at them. But he should have known better, for they retired in an orderly manner, marching backward, line on line. The Numantian Center shouted exulting war cries and broke into a run, sucked even farther into the trap, for of course that's precisely what it was.

Our Right Wing was having a bit of trouble, the river being wider where they were crossing.

At this moment, Chardin Sher struck.

His sorcerers brought up a wall of water, like a sudden neap tide, and sent it rus.h.i.+ng down on us from the west. It was no more than two feet high, but that was more than enough. It caught the men of the Left Wing and swept them along, but there were only a few ranks to be sent tumbling downriver.

It took the Right Wing in midcrossing, smas.h.i.+ng into it as hard, and lethally, as if it'd been a blacksmith's sledge.

Kallian horns screamed, and Chardin Sher's center turned back and attacked, archers to either side volleying arrows into the ma.s.sed Numantian Center.

General Turbery was killed in that first volley, and I saw, from my vantage point, the Numantian colors go down. The Center took the shock of the first wave, then stumbled back a bit.

Chardin Sher's forces must have rehea.r.s.ed this battle over and over. Isa knows they'd had time enough, having held the ground for long days before our dilatory arrival. The Kallian Left Wing split its forces, sending half in against the Numantian Center, the other half across the river, on a hidden ford, to our side of the bank and striking against our Right Wing.

Then came the deathstroke. From their positions, which had been masked by sorcery and the a.s.sab Heights, ran the rest of Chardin Sher's army. They were mostly cavalry or light infantry, and drove directly into the open flank of the Center Wing.

The battleground became swirling chaos, man fighting man, man killing man, no more tactics, no more grand design, just b.l.o.o.d.y slaughter.

I saw Numantian flags go down, and small knots of soldiers I knew to be ours make a last stand, then disappear, overrun by waves of Kallians.

I heard a cavalry general shouting, to whom I don't know, perhaps the G.o.d of war, for someone to unleash us.

But there was no one to give the command.

General Turbery was dead. General Odoacer was dead. General Hern was pinned under his fallen horse and had a broken leg. Three other generals died that day, ten dominas, and who knows how many lesser-ranking officers.

The Numantian Center Wing was obliterated, the Left mired in confusion, and the Right cut to ribbons.

Chardin*Sher's forces reformed, and rolled toward the river, an indestructible force bent on our total destruction.

I sat on Lucan seeing this nightmare, the worst defeat imaginable, and something broke within me.

There were other dominas with the cavalry far senior to me, and two generals. But no one did anything.

I knew I must.

'Trumpeter,” I shouted, ”sound the advance!”

The horns blared, at first raggedly, surprised, but then strong, and the Seventeenth Ureyan Lancers, as they'd been taught, went down the hill at the walk to battle.

Shouts of surprise, possibly countermanding my orders, came from behind, around us, but I cared not.

If other regiments joined us, well and good. But I could not see my country destroyed on this unknown ground by some dead fool's mistakes.

Maran, my child, my own life, all were swept away.

I heard other trumpets, glanced behind me, and saw other regiments, shamed by our action, start forward. Then they were all moving, perhaps , men, against five times their number.

Thunder rolled then, and a man walked down the slope in front of us, toward the water, toward the ford.

It was the Seer Tenedos, in half-armor, but without his helmet.

His voice was the thunder, and the thunder was his voice. I could not make out his words as the spell rolled and crashed from the hills around us.

Raindrops pattered, and I saw the clouds had suddenly changed, now dark, threatening as his ringing words took effect.

Archers came from nowhere, and war-shafts arched over the Imru. landing among the oncoming Kallians, and then the storm broke, a roaring cataclysm, so no one could see more than a few yards ahead of him.

The rain lessened for a second, and I saw the Kallians, still hesitating at the ford's far beginnings, seeing the Imru swirl up V, in flood, afraid to chance being stranded, and then the storm pulled a curtain across my view.

Men cannot, will not, fight when they cannot see, when their leaders cannot see beyond their horses'

ears, and so the battle was over.

I would be permitted to live the day, and not to have to make the sacrifice I'd offered Isa and Numantia.

Sanity came back, and I remembered Marn, and breathed a prayer of thanks to my wise monkey G.o.d Vachan and my own G.o.dling Tanis. But the field was littered with more than , Numantian casualties.

The rain-roar slowed, and I could see across the Imru again, see the Kallians pulling back.

Tenedos still stood where I'd seen him last, but now his arms were at his sides. He tottered then, and fell, and I kicked Lucan into a trot through the mire, desperately afraid the seer had been hit.

I dismounted and ran to him, where he lay facedown. I turned him over, and his eyes came open.

”Damastes,” he said. ”Did the spell break them?” ”Yessir. They're pulling back.”

”Good. Good. Took... took everything I had. You'll have to ... help me up.”

I lifted him, half-carried him to Lucan, and helped him into the saddle.

I led Lucan away, toward Tenedos's tent, the sorcerer swaying in the saddle, barely able to stay mounted. Karjan rode out of the murk, and caught Tenedos, not letting him fall.

I suddenly realized it was late afternoon, and growing dark. Somehow the day had gone without the hours being noticed.

Now there was nothing but the driving storm, the cries and moans of dying men and horses, and the bitter taste of utter defeat.

TWENTY-FOUR.

The Birth of an ArmyWhen we reached Tenedos's tent, a sobbing Rasenna helped me get the wizard inside. He told her to get a certain vial from a chest and shuddered the contents down.

I could see the mixture hit, see the gray pallor pa.s.s from his cheeks, see him straighten, see strength pour into his system.