“Your friends have been busy.”
“They are no friends of mine. Why are you here? Did you get bored listening to the high muckety mucks giving orders and come over for a chat?”
“Lady Asea asked me to come and check on you.”
“Is she afraid I might eavesdrop on your plans and take them to enemy?”
“Maybe — could you do that?”
Tamara glanced around warningly. There was no one within earshot but that might not mean anything given the number of sorcerers present among both armies. “Only if I could get within earshot of Azaar and had access to have a dozen carrier pigeons and a pen and paper.”
“Cunningly we have not provided you with any of those things.”
“Indeed and thus it is that I have had to content myself with watching the troop deployments and speculating on what my countrymen are up to.”
“Have you come to any conclusions?”
“They are up to nothing good, that is for sure.”
“The profundity of your analysis astonishes me.”
“Men are often surprised by my acumen in matters military.”
“Why did you really come here?”
“Amazing as it doubtless seems to you and as quite frankly astonishing as it seems to me, I told Asea the truth. Those people over there are my enemies. They are the enemies of our entire civilisation, of every living thing on this world unless I miss my guess.”
“And yet your father fought for them.”
She gave him another warning look but he ignored it. He was in a strange mood this evening, full of foreboding and not quite caring about the consequences.
“I do not think my father was sane as most people reckon sanity.
“You have my full agreement there. But you fought for your father for a long time.”
“I suffer from an undue degree of filial piety. I served the Terrarch not his cause.”
“Some would say the two are the same.”
“I can see you are going to be tiresome on this subject, Rik.”
“It’s an unfortunate tendency I have.” They fell into a not uncomfortable silence. Rik studied the battle lines below them. Somewhere down there his friends were preparing to go to fight on what might prove to be the last day of their lives.
“Are you glad you won’t be fighting?” Tamara asked.
“You think I won’t be in combat then? If the Sardeans over-run our boys we’ll all be fighting. I would not be surprised if Asea gives the order to cut your throat if that happens.”
“Will you obey it?”
Rik considered for a moment. He was surprised to find the answer. “No. I would not. I told you that we two should be allies. Karim would do it though.”
“Would you stop him?”
“I am not sure that I could, even if I wanted to. He is a very dangerous man. I should know. He is my weapons tutor.”
“And you are not sure that you would want to stop him anyway?”
“That is so. I don’t mean you any harm, Tamara, but I am not prepared to harm my friends on your behalf either.”
“Thank you for making that clear.”
“Would you do the same for me?”
“Perhaps. At the moment I fear you are my only ally. I burned a lot of bridges when I left Sardea.”
“Asea thinks there may be traps in what you are teaching me.”
“She might be right. All knowledge has its dangers. But if you are asking me whether I am deliberately setting you up for a fall, the answer is no.”
“You would say that anyway.”
“Heads you win, tails I lose. No matter what I say the answer is suspect.”
“Can you blame me for thinking that way?”
“If things go badly, free me, Rik. I might be able to get us both out of here.”
“By your own special route, you mean?” he asked, unwilling to mention her shadow-walking ability.
“Yes.”
“I will think about it.”
She smiled and shook her head. “Let us talk of something else. I am rather excited. This will be the first mass battle I have witnessed.”
“It won’t be mine. I fought through the Clockmaker’s rebellion and all the way across Kharadrea.”
“Will it be glorious?” He looked at her face to see if she was being sarcastic. She looked sincere.
“It will be a slaughter-yard.”
“That does not sound like a terribly edifying spectacle.”
“Perhaps if you were a corpse raven or a scavenger devilwing it would be.”
“The poets sing such songs about battles too, of courage and glory and heroism.”
“There will be all of those. There will also be a lot of blood and pain.”
“Those are inevitable in life.”
“True enough. You’d think people would want avoid them when they are needless though, wouldn’t you?”
“You think this battle is needless then?”
It was his turn to shake his head. “I have fought in battles that were, but I doubt this will be one of them. The fate of the world hangs in the balance.”
“People always think that.”
“This time it is true though- it’s not just politicians talking. There’s never been a battle like this before, with the dead walking and the Princes of Shadow waiting on the outcome.”
“Not on this world anyway. There were battles like this on Al’Terra. Your patron must have witnessed a fair few. Your Lord Commander as well.”
“Did they have gunpowder and cannon on Al’Terra?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Then there has never been a battle like this before anywhere.”
“You could be right.”
They both fell silent as they got within earshot of the commander’s suite.
Chapter Twenty
Sardec watched the Sardeans thunder closer. The great tide of walking corpses screened their human infantry. Only the wyrms behind the main force were visible over their heads. Enemy dragons circled. He was glad that there were skywatcher units present, laid out in the traditional chequerboard pattern among the other infantry. It was their job to protect their comrades from aerial assault although their weapons appeared pitiful when measured against the power of the great reptiles.
He offered up a brief prayer, hoping that Rena had taken his advice and fled as far from the battlefield as possible. He did not want her caught by the undead if the Sardeans swept over their position. He pushed thoughts of his woman from his mind. He could not afford them now, if he hoped to survive the day. He would need every faculty concentrated on his own survival and that of his men.
He walked along the front of the line. “Steady, lads,” he bellowed in his best parade ground voice. “Save your shot till they are within range and aim for the heads.”
That was one thing to be grateful for at least. The Foragers were among the best marksmen in the army. They could be relied on to make their shots count. Of course every musket ball used on a walking corpse was one
