quite a bit,' Alusair said at last. 'But that was when they were stopping to lob arrows.'
Azoun nodded enthusiastically. 'Both those things will be important in the battle,' he said. 'Arrows and spells can whittle down the number of Tuigan lances and Tuigan swords the infantry will have to turn aside.'
'But not stop seventy thousand of them,' Brunthar said gloomily. 'What about building more blockades to slow the charge down? We won't have the advantage of the hill here. The Tuigan can race pretty much unimpeded to our front rank.'
'Good,' Azoun said. He motioned to the left and right. 'Perhaps we should concentrate on barricades at the edges of the field. That'll narrow down their attack even further.'
Vrakk, who had not missed any of the dwarven king's angry looks in his direction, chimed in with a half- sarcastic remark. 'Why don't Torg and his dglinkarz dig big hole for Tuigan to fall in?'
The ironlord immediately dropped his hand to his sword. Farl and Brunthar stepped between the dwarf and the orc, and looked to Azoun for guidance. The king was grinning broadly. 'That's it!' he said, though only softly at first. 'Of course!'
The leaders of the Alliance stopped, and even Torg wondered what the king had stumbled upon. Azoun pounded his fist into his other hand and looked around at the dark field. 'But not one big hole, Vrakk. Thousands of little ones.'
The orcish leader grinned evilly. 'Ah! Is good idea!'
Azoun noted the confused look on the faces of his other generals. With the broad smile still on his face, he said, 'The arrows and spells were most effective when the Tuigan stopped to fire at us, right?' Without waiting for an answer, he continued. 'So we'll make them stop-or at least slow them down enough to be good targets for the archers and mages.'
'Holes,' Alusair repeated, comprehension slowly dawning upon her. 'We won't put up barricades, we'll dig holes across the field.'
The other generals had caught the gist of the plan by now, and they enthusiastically embraced it. By digging a wide band of holes at a distance of fifty yards from the Alliance's lines, the generals could be sure that many of the horses in the Tuigan front ranks would stumble, tossing their riders and slowing down the rest of the charge. In the midst of the animated discussion, Farl slowly shook his head.
'My troops and the dwarves could easily dig the traps overnight,' the general said loudly. Everyone stopped and faced the infantry commander. 'But what makes you think the Tuigan are foolish enough to charge such an obvious trap?'
The king turned to the royal wizard. 'Well, Vangy?'
For the first time that evening, a smile crept onto the wizard's age-withered face. He patted his beard, now more white than gray, and said, 'Even Elminster could disguise a field full of holes. It'll be easy-though the casting will take some of our wizards away from the battle.'
'That's no problem,' Azoun concluded, clapping his hands together. 'The illusion need only be maintained long enough for the first wave of riders to hit it.'
The matter settled, the king and his advisors talked long into the evening, reviewing troop strengths and establishing battle plans to cover every contingency they could dream up. The moon, partly covered by clouds, was shining as brightly as it could when the meeting finally ended.
Farl went off to double the watch on the perimeter, so that Tuigan spies would not see the dwarves hard at work in the field. Despite his annoyance at the orc for suggesting a plan that utilized his troops, Torg was enthusiastic about the task that lay ahead. He knew his troops would perform exactly as required. The other generals said good evening, too. Azoun and Alusair knew that Vrakk, Brunthar, and Vangerdahast would sleep little that night, but bade them good night in return.
The king and his daughter talked for a short time on various minor topics, then the princess went off in search of Thom Reaverson. She had promised the bard earlier in the day to relate some of her adventures. Azoun in turn walked back to camp, favoring his leg slightly. The damp night air seemed to make the pain worse, and the king wondered if he was going to put up with the discomfort for the rest of his life. The clerics had done the best they could, so it seemed likely.
It will hurt at least until tomorrow, he concluded grimly.
The dwarves had already begun their long, grueling task by the time Azoun reached the Alliance's front line. And though he couldn't see the troops from Earthfast, the king could hear their tools biting into the road and the field. The sounds weren't all that different from the hammering and digging going on around him, as Farl's troops completed their barricades and the archers finished the palisades. Hopefully the Tuigan wouldn't be able to uncover the trap through the sound alone.
For a moment, the king wondered what he should do. The pain from his leg was getting more intense, though not unbearable, and he was very tired. Sleep certainly seemed in order. However, another trip through the ranks might provide a little comfort for the troops, provide a bit more reassurance that their leader was working late into the night, too. Perhaps, then, sleep might come more easily to the soldiers.
Remembering his daughter's advice, Azoun sighed. His heart was very clear on how the night should be spent. Limping slightly, the king set off for the nearest campfire and the group of weary soldiers clustered around it.
16
The Golden Way stretched east before the Army of the Alliance, weaving a broad path through the fields of swaying grass. Clouds filled the sky, and the dawn sun, just rising in the east, shed only a pale light over the battlefield. It was a relief to Azoun's generals that the Tuigan wouldn't be able to use a bright sun at their backs to blind the Alliance's archers.
A quiet tension reigned over the western camp. Actually, no one would call the collection of scattered fires surrounded by bedrolls a formal camp. The soldiers had done little more than set up their defensive lines, with the wagons of supplies behind them. Most now were sprawled in an exhausted sleep near where they would fight later in the day. If the gods were kind and the Alliance won-and many believed that it would take the gods' power to equalize the odds in the battle-they might set up a real camp. If they lost, it wouldn't matter.
Not that the western troops had given up hope. Azoun had discovered, much to his surprise, that there were few soldiers in the ranks sodden with despair. The king's trek around the camp the previous night had revealed that most of the army still believed in the crusade, that they weren't afraid to die as long as the cause was good. The soldiers felt, as Azoun still did, that they were all that stood between their homes and the Tuigan horde.
At first he had thought the men were only telling him what they believed he wanted to hear. After all, few of the soldiers had spoken to a king before, and most of the Cormyrians spent their time bowing instead of discussing their plight with Azoun. To test this, the monarch had passed the word through Farl that anyone wishing to leave camp could do so before dawn without fear of recrimination. It was a risky ploy, and one opposed by all the Alliance's generals; Azoun had hoped it would reveal the army's true disposition and forge a sense of unity in the troops that remained.
It worked far better than he had imagined.
'You must have counted wrong,' Vangerdahast gasped, shaking his head. 'I don't believe it.'
Alusair smiled and handed the parchment to her father. 'Farl said that, too, Vangy. We had the captains count twice.'
Relief showing clearly on his weary face, Azoun threw his head back and sighed. 'Only one hundred gone,' he murmured. 'One hundred out of over fifteen thousand.'
'And most of those were mercenaries,' Alusair reminded the king. She took the parchment from his hands and reviewed the figures noted there. 'I don't think we lost a single Cormyrian regular, dwarf, orc, or even a dalesman. Only hired swords.'
Still numb from the surprise, Azoun looked out over the lines. Some of the men were sleeping, their heads covered to block out the weak sunlight. Morningfeast occupied most of the troops, but a few nervous men and
