“Strawberries.”
Gatren's disinterested voice giving me the password for the day as I entered the commander's tent had become familiar to me, a part of the daily routine. He always leaned forward slightly and pitched his voice for my ears alone. Pointless as everyone there would know the password.
I ignored him, as usual, and a stepped a little further into the tent to wait to be acknowledged. In four days I had once more slipped into the expectation of a prompt dismissal to deal with my already assigned task – to do nothing, in other words. Again I was slightly surprised when beckoned to come forward.
“Sumto Cerulian, take command of the right flank for the day.”
I saluted and acknowledged the order, was dismissed and left. I didn't ask the reason, there could be many, ranging from a stomach bug to verbal dispatches that only a commander could be entrusted with. The commanders to hand were for Tul to use as he saw fit, changing their assignments every day if he felt inclined to do so.
Over breakfast I told Kerral to look after things and asked him where the hell I would find my command and who would likely be their captain. He did not disappoint me.
“The knight Yebratt Shaheel will be with the vanguard by the time we are ready to march.”
I didn't berate him for stating the obvious fact that the captain, indeed all of the horsemen, would be knights. That is what equestes means, after all, of the equestrian rank. Pretty well off, basically, and of noble birth or raised to the nobility, though that happened rarely enough to be truly notable.
I guessed that he thought I should know who it would be and he was right. “I'll pick your brains about the complete command structure later, Kerral. I should know, and I don't.”
“As you say, sir.”
I found Yebratt just where Kerral had said he'd be waiting for me. He was a big, friendly man with ginger hair and, unusually, sported a beard. He saluted with a grin. “Orders sir?”
I couldn't help returning his easy grin. “I think we will string out in two's a half mile out at hundred yard intervals and have two pairs take vantage runs from the lead and circle to the rear where it seems appropriate.”
“Sounds good! Password?”
“Strawberries.”
14
I passed the morning in the company of Yebratt Shaheel pleasantly enough. Twice we rode to high ground and circled back to the rear of the column, taking the opportunity to vary the pace. He was a talker and I let him talk. He told me of his family, origins, intended career, bearing in mind that the higher offices were barred to him by reason of finance. To be a member of the patron's assembly you have to be of a certain class and have the money to back it up, a million in silver to be exact. A knight must have a personal fortune of a hundred thousand. We have no barriers to how you make the money, we don't care where the money comes from. A slave can become a freedman, and the son of a freedman is a free man and a free man can aspire to the equestes. Yebratt had designs on the assembly of patrons for himself or his son and I lauded his ambition.
“One day my family will be able to look back on seven hundred years of family history, just as you can.”
“I am sure you are right,” of course his descendants could never trace their people back to our founders and three generations before as I could, “and I am sure they will be proud of you and your efforts on their behalf.”
“If I don't make patron status one of my sons will.”
“Pray for lucrative wars, and successful generals!” I laughed.
“I do!”
“Unfortunate that this isn't going to be one of them.”
He shrugged. “There will be booty. Even ten slaves is a thousand, and half as much or more in loot. Not bad for what will likely be one or two small-scale battles.”
I had to agree. Two months, maybe a little more. It is not the stuff fortunes are made of but there would be returns for what was a fairly minimal amount of risk and time. I asked about his estates and he was glad to tell me; two large farms, a factory and a warehouse from which a couple of wagons supplied a haulage and storage service. I tuned out as he went into detail, surveying our surroundings just as, to be fair, he was also doing. We were well past the Modrasin hills. The lands we were traveling through were mainly flat with the occasional hill. To describe such terrain as flatland conveys the wrong impression, one could rarely see the horizon due to gentle undulations in the landscape. There were also some woodlands dotted about, but on the main visibility was good. We were coming close to a ripple in the terrain that would drop visibility to a hundred yards. Without discussion we turned that way and kicked the horses into a canter. There was no more talk as we concentrated on the path we were taking. No one wants a spill from horseback or to lose the value of the animal. But the ground was hard and dry, the low scrub sparse and it was easy enough to steer around any potential hazard. Before long we were climbing, the horses putting in more effort as we urged them on. As we breasted the rise I stood in the saddle and gave a signal as an instinctive reaction. Less than two hundred yards away, a band of armed men were making their way in loose formation toward us.
I divided my attention between the potential enemy and the next pair of horsemen back down the line. One split off at once, heading for the main body of the army. He didn't know what he was reporting in detail but the army would stop and prepare for anything. The other signaled back down the line and, when sure he had been seen, headed our way as fast as the terrain allowed. At the same time the men who were making toward us hesitated in a disorganized ripple, then responded to an order and came to a halt.
“What do you think?”
“Too early to be sure.” I started scanning the terrain all around as far as I could see, checking for any other threat. Yebratt was doing the same and, like me, also glancing at the armed band to see what they did next.
The sound of a horse pounding up the hill behind us, all powerful breaths and drumming hooves, did not distract either of us from our vigil. In the distance we could hear the march of the army, dull pounding of boots on stone.
After a brief consultation two men broke away from the armed band and began to move our way. They set a medium pace, purposeful but not hurried.
“They mean to talk.”
I shrugged. “If they have the password, all well and good.”
Our man joined us. He took in the situation but said nothing. I could hear more horses coming our way and now an occasional cry as orders began to be passed through the main army. I loosened my sword in its scabbard, making sure it would free cleanly at need, though I intended that we withdraw if the band moved our way. There would be only nineteen of us, assuming all my command had reached me. I resisted the urge to glance back; the rest of the tactical situation wasn't my business right now. Even if there were other units closing in, these hundred men in front of me were what I had to deal with one way or another.
When the next pair joined us I instructed them to hold this position unless threatened and passed control of the whole group to Yebratt. Taking one man with me I went to meet the two soldiers who were making their way forward. A hundred yards has never seemed like such a distance. As they had started moving first we arrived at a position where we were close enough to hail each other at about the mid way mark and here I halted and called out to them to identify themselves.
“Rastrian Bacht, bringing my unit to Tulian Dural Verrans at his order.”
“Give me the password.”
“Raspberries!”
I felt a chill in my stomach. “Say again!”
He raised his voice. “Raspberries!”
We were close, maybe only thirty feet between us. The rest of his band hadn't moved. They looked pretty relaxed. They were not in formation, but spread out and clustered as they saw fit. Quite a few of them weren't even looking our way. I made a decision and acted on it at once, kicking loose of my stirrups, I slid down to the ground and tossed the reins to my companion. “Don't do a damn thing unless I head back at a run.”
