meat grinder here. He didn’t know how many men were still alive, but he did know the company would never be the same again after it came out the other side of the town--if it ever did.
From the next doorway over, Trasone called, “Maybe we’ll make it to Cottbus after all if we can take this stinking place first.”
“How much do we have left to take it with?” Tealdo answered. “Not a whole lot of reinforcements behind us, that’s for cursed sure. And where are our behemoths? I’ve hardly seen any the past few days.”
“We came past some that were frozen to death, remember?” Trasone said.
Tealdo did remember, and wished he didn’t. He also wished his comrade wouldn’t be quite so sardonic. He said, “I was hoping I’d see some that would do us some good.”
“With this much snow on the ground, the powers below might as well be pulling at the beasts’ feet,” Trasone commented. “How are they supposed to go forward in weather like this? How are we, for that matter?” He risked a quick look around the corner to make sure no Unkerlanters were sneaking up, then turned back to Tealdo. “And I wouldn’t mind a few more dead blonds helping the mages push us forward, either.” He scowled at Tealdo, as if defying him to disagree.
With a shrug, Tealdo answered, “Hard getting ‘em up here these days, what with the weather and with the Unkerlanters playing games with the ley lines. Besides, Swemmel keeps on killing his own, too.”
He didn’t know what Trasone would say to that. Before Trasone could say anything, the Unkerlanters started lobbing eggs at the forwardmost Algarvians. Tealdo huddled in his doorway, making himself as small as he could. King Swemmel’s men had a great swarm of egg-tossers north of Thalfang.
And the Algarvians did not respond so readily or so strongly as they would have a few weeks or even a few days before. Pulled by horses or mules or behemoths, egg-tossers had an ever-harder time keeping up with footsoldiers as they pushed the front forward. Tealdo hoped for dragons, but the cold and the snow were hard on them, too.
After about a quarter of an hour, the eggs stopped falling as abruptly as they’d begun. In the sudden silence, Captain Galafrone raised a shout: “Forward, men! The Unkerlanters are still getting ready to hit us. We’ll cursed well hit them before they
“Mezentio!” Tealdo yelled, and sprang up from his hiding place. Other officers were shouting their men forward, too; more than half a year of war had taught them how their foes fought. And, sure enough, they caught King Swemmel’s soldiers out of their holes and gathering for their own attack. That made the white-smocked Unkerlanters easier targets than they would have been resting in the soot-streaked snow or scurrying from house to house.
Tealdo blazed a couple of enemy troopers. More fell to beams from his comrades’ sticks. But the rest, instead of retreating, surged forward. Tealdo dove behind a snow-covered pile of bricks. He came up blazing and knocked over another Unkerlanter. In an abstract way, he might have admired the courage King Swemmel’s men showed. They’d shown it ever since the fighting started. They’d been forced back, but they hadn’t given up on themselves the way the Valmierans and Jelgavians had. He wished they would have despaired. In that case, Algarve would be victorious, and he wouldn’t have to worry about getting killed any more.
“Forward!” Captain Galafrone shouted again. “Once we break out ofThalfang, they won’t have anything left to stop us.”
Tealdo didn’t know whether the Algarvians could break out ofThalfang and kept thinking about all the eggs the Unkerlanters had thrown at them. But he scrambled to his feet. He sprinted for the next bit of cover he saw--an overturned wagon in the middle of the street. He crouched behind it, blazing at the Unkerlanters. Their attacking force melted as the snow hereabouts wouldn’t do till spring.
Trasone ran past him. “Come on,” Tealdo’s burly friend called. “Do you want to be late for the party?”
“Can’t have that.” Tealdo got up and advanced again. As he ran, he realized something had changed. He needed a moment to know what it was. Then he exclaimed in glad surprise: “The snow’s stopped!”
“Oh, happy day!” That wasn’t Trasone; it was Sergeant Panfilo. “Any minute now, the sun will come out, and then you can go climb a fornicating palm tree, just like they’ve got in fornicating Siaulia.”
A few minutes later, the sun did come out. Tealdo saw no palm trees, fornicating or otherwise. All he saw was a battered Unkerlanter town; sunshine made it dazzling without making it beautiful. Ahead lay a broad expanse of empty, snow-covered ground. “The market square!” Tealdo shouted. “We’re halfway through this stinking place, anyway.”
“Aye, so we are,” Trasone answered. “And
