Sasha

before the sun rises!'

Sasha set off after him, heading downhill as mounted soldiers wheeled and yelled, finding comrades and superiors in the darkness. She, Tyrun, Andreyis and Teriyan positioned themselves at the fore, watching the confusion and hoping there were not too many injuries before they even began to move.

'Where's Jaryd?' she thought to ask Tyrun.

'I put a few good men with him,' Tyrun replied, surveying the scene with unreadable eyes. 'To make sure he stays in the saddle, and to show the rest of the guardsmen that he's here. How do you judge his condition?'

'His body's a mess,' Sasha said shortly. 'But that's not the worst of it.'

Tyrun nodded shortly. 'He's a strong young man, his body will heal. About the other wounds, time will tell.'

Sasha stared at the torch-lit, surging mass of horses and did some fast sums in her head. Eleven provinces at Rathynal. Roughly five hundred people per contingent. Half of those were nobles, including ladies and children. The other half soldiers-about two hundred and fifty per contingent. Maybe half of those, from every province but the three northern ones, were Goeren-yai. Which made… maybe nine hundred men? It certainly looked close to a thousand, but it was dark and there was no way to tell for sure. Had every Goeren-yai soldier come? And what of the Baen-Tar garrison companies?

'All the Falcon Guard have come?' she asked Captain Tyrun.

'Aye,' said Tyrun. Verenthanes too, that meant. Tyrun was here himself, after all. That was another five hundred.

'And the Black Hammers, do you know?' she pressed.

'Uncertain. Captain Akyrman will not come, but many of his Goerenyai will. Some of those said their Verenthane friends may follow later, once they realise what's happened.'

'We'll have a straggling tail on this army no matter what we do,' Sasha observed glumly.

'Aye,' Tyrun agreed. 'No helping it. Best hope they ride fast.'

'Royal Guard?'

'A few. Perhaps two hundred. Leaving Baen-Tar undefended is a big thing, even lots of Goeren-yai won't do it.'

Sasha nodded, biting her lip. Say two hundred… and two fifty from the Black Hammers, and five hundred Falcon Guard… She blinked in astonishment. 'We're nearly two thousand strong?'

'Aye,' said Tyrun. 'Looks like.' From back toward the tent city, there was more shouting and a chaos of galloping horses, milling men and bewildered officers. A pair of men on horses came across in front, close enough for Sasha to overhear their cries to the column.

'Where the bloody hell are you lot off to?'

'Udalyn Valley! Want to come?'

'To fight for the Udalyn? But I'm Verenthane!'

'So's he!' Some laughter above the thunder of hooves and jangling harnesses.

'Yeah, I'm Verenthane!'

'So why're you going?'

'My friends are going! What unit you from?'

'Fyden Wildcats! You?'

'Yethulyn Bears! You like the Hadryn?'

'Hells no!'

'Well, come and have a bloody fight then!'

The cheers and cajoling continued, the two Verenthanes paralleling the column downhill into the dark.

Sasha shook her head in disbelief. 'Damn it,' she muttered to Tyrun. 'I've absolutely no idea what I'm doing.'

'I'm used to that,' said Tyrun, with the faintest smile beneath his bushy moustache.

They galloped to the lead of the column, then turned downhill toward the nearest open gate out of a paddock and onto the road. The column fol lowed, a great, creaking, thudding mass of horse and armour, the light of many torches casting crazy shadows across the hillside.

Before long, several Royal Guardsmen, led by Lieutenant Alyn, cantered past to take the vanguard… one, Sasha saw, flying the royal purple and green. The banners of the Falcon Guard and the Black Hammers were also flying. The dark treeline approached and then enfolded them in the flickering, dancing shadow of firelight on trunks and leaves. From somewhere behind came a haunting blast of trumpet, once, and then again.

'Ranash,' said Tyrun, his moustache twisting as he considered its import. There followed an answering call with different notes. 'And that one is Banneryd. They are forming.'

'How many do you think?' Sasha asked.

'The Ranash took a few losses against the Taneryn, but not many. Before, they were two hundred strong. Banneryd are not so many-only a hundred twenty.

'So few,' Sasha remarked, thinking hard.

'Banneryd's Great Lord Cyan did not come for Rathynal,' said Tyrun. 'Some say he was otherwise preoccupied with the Hadryn… probably that's where the other Banneryd and Ranash soldiers are too. In the Udalyn Valley with the Hadryn.'

Sasha rubbed her brow. 'Why did no one notice Great Lord Cyan's absence until now?' she asked.

Tyrun shrugged. 'Rathynal is just beginning. We thought perhaps he was late.'

'So we shall have at least three hundred and twenty horsemen chasing us shortly,' Sasha summarised.

'Aye,' Tyrun agreed, as matter-of-fact as a farmer discussing the season's crop. It was a great relief to have such a wise, steady presence at her side. 'And certainly more, once the king sends his summons. Neysh will likely respond with full companies, as Great Lord Parabys owes Prince Koenyg his place after family tumults there. And he's not the only one. Prince Koenyg crafts allegiances well. I'd guess he could have nearly a thousand men under arms within two days. Add to that the nobility themselves… perhaps a third are in good condition to fight.'

'No more than a quarter,' Sasha disagreed, sourly. 'Some didn't come equipped and there's little camping gear on their horses. They were expecting lordly accommodation, not a war party. They're also short on armour and half can't fight well anyhow.'

Tyrun might have smiled in the dancing shadows. 'Aye,' was all he said. He seemed a man who reserved judgment, whenever possible. No doubt one learned to reserve one's opinions, faced with the open disapproval of nobles who resented one's humble origins.

'So maybe five hundred nobles who can fight. But that's two days' head start for us,' Sasha reasoned.

'Less,' said Tyrun with certainty. 'Prince Koenyg can gather some men on the move.'

Sasha nodded, thinking hard. Speed was key, that much was obvious. It would be the kind of manoeuvring Kessligh had done so masterfully during the Great War, thirty years before-fast thrusts of mounted warriors across rugged terrain. They were, she knew, awfully large boots to fill.

'I'd guess, M'Lady,' Tyrun continued, 'that the northern units may form a skirmish party, or several skirmish parties, to delay our progress north. Our flanks should be careful and watch for ambush.'

'If we're too defensive, we'll never get there in time,' Sasha muttered. 'The Udalyn's wall is strong, but the Hadryn have siege weapons. That, and I'd like to hit them hard before they have time to prepare for us at the valley mouth. If we're quick, we can trap them inside before they know we're coming.'

'Aye, M'Lady,' said Tyrun, with the first hint of satisfaction in his tone. Sasha gave him a curious look.

'Why are you here, Captain? For all I know, this could end with all our necks joining Lord Krayliss on the block. No one would have thought less of you had you declined to ride.'

'A majority of my men voted to come,' Tyrun said simply. 'The Falcon Guard has a tradition of majority votes. So I came.'

Sasha was surprised. She had expected to hear something about noble causes and compassion for his Goeren-yai brothers.

'I hope they don't expect further votes in the midst of battle,' she said warily.

Tyrun shook his head. 'That's not how it works, M'Lady. One vote, for any suicidal stupidity, then all must follow orders.'

'Your own Tyree lords may have your head even if the king doesn't,' Sasha added.

'Master Jaryd is the Great Lord of Tyree,' Tyrun said flatly.