“They don’t even know that we’ve left the Hindrunn yet,” said Roper, watching over the scene. “Can anyone see any sentries?”
“There,” said Gray, scouring the valley with an experienced eye, and pointing at a miniscule pair of figures standing on the other side of the valley. “And there … And there.” The five of them sank lower to the ground. This valley had once sheltered a forest, but the trees had been stripped, cut and piled at the sides in a firewood stack that doubled as a crude barricade. It was as though the Sutherners thought you could not camp in a forest: there was either space for soldiers or for trees, but not for both.
“They get nervous when they can’t see, don’t they?” said Helmec.
“They have struggled with our country, lord,” said one of the Skiritai. “We have found Suthern skeletons everywhere we’ve scouted, usually killed by bears or wolves. That is why they clear the forests. Those we capture are usually grateful that we’ve found them. Until they’re executed.” The other Skiritai laughed.
“Gestur; Margeir,” said Roper. He had discovered the names of the two Skiritai rangers from Tekoa before they had departed and they crawled a touch closer. “I trust you have the measure of these interlopers,” said Roper, with a smile. “I would be grateful if you could assess this army thoroughly. I need to know how many men they command and how many cavalry. Tell me how they are feeding themselves when they are clearly so ill-at-ease here. Tell me if they have split their forces. Gather as much information as you can and be back to the army before dusk tomorrow.”
The rangers obediently returned to their horses and departed.
“As for us,” continued Roper to Gray and Helmec, “back to the army. We can do no more until we know what we are facing.”
The three mounted their steeds and retraced their tracks. They were forced to tack up some of the steeper hills, so slippery was the terrain. Back with the army, Roper established extra fortifications for the camp and asked Tekoa how the Skiritai could best keep an eye on the surrounding landscape without drawing attention to themselves. “Figure-of- eight patrols,” Tekoa had replied. “Parties of three on foot, orbiting the camp in overlapping figures-of-eight. The centre of the ‘eight’ is the camp, so they can collect fresh news and orders before heading out again.”
“Very good,” said Roper, nodding. “And I have some more specific requirements of your men.” Tekoa’s eyebrow rose as Roper explained what he needed.
“It sounds like you’re planning something foolish, my lord.”
“I have many plans. This one I hope not to use.”
“It is as well to be prepared,” said Tekoa dubiously.
They had a secure perimeter and well-fortified camp; now they just needed to wait. Roper walked among his men, moving from fire to fire with the news that the enemy had been found. “Not long now, lads,” he declared. “We’re waiting on a more thorough assessment but I assure you, there are enough Sutherners to go around. You will all need to do your part.” He encouraged the legionaries to rest and eat well, as well as to make sure their weapons and armour were in peak condition.
Roper did not expect the two rangers, Gestur and Margeir, to arrive much before dusk the next day and, suspecting that inactivity would be bad for the legions, he set them to work. Some were sent out to forage for food, some to assemble pikes and some to rehearse marching on a potential battlefield that Roper had identified. None of this needed doing. Roper doubted he would use the pikes. There was no problem with more food: they were still well-supplied with rations and there would not be much to forage in these hills in any case. And the world’s best-trained soldiers certainly did not need to rehearse marching. But Kynortas had been of the belief that idle men, particularly idle warriors, make trouble. And it does not do to spend too much time thinking on the eve of battle.
Roper stayed in camp and waited for the rangers to return. They arrived just as night began to drape the hills and all the legionaries were back in camp, bearing disturbing news.
“The army is vast, lord,” said Gestur, who sat at Roper’s fire wolfing down hoosh that the Black Lord had prepared himself. Roper had been eating with Gray and Tekoa when the Skiritai returned and had asked that they join him.
“Be specific,” insisted Roper.
The rangers glanced at one another. “A hundred and fifty thousand,” said Gestur, the more voluble of the two. “It was hard to work around their sentries, lord. Even so, we are confident that it is above a hundred and thirty thousand infantry and twenty thousand mounted knights.”
“Twenty thousand knights,” said Gray mildly. “Damn.”
“There aren’t twenty thousand knights in the whole of Albion,” said Tekoa. “Not even ten thousand. They must have support from the continent.”
“So it sounds as though we can assume we are outnumbered four to one,” Roper surmised. He took another spoonful of hoosh, frowning into his bowl. “What else?”
“They have kept their forces together: all of them are within the valley. And they are getting their supplies from a huge wagon park in the north.”
“We thought that was so that their forces were defending it from our likely direction of approach.”
“Eh? A single wagon park in the north for the entire camp?” pressed Roper.
The two rangers nodded. “As far as we could see.”
Roper brooded for a moment. “Gestur, Margeir: I thank you for your services. Please take your food and excuse us; I must plan with my companions here.” The two Skiritai picked up their bowls carefully and bowed to Roper, heading for a nearby hearth at which some of their peers cackled with laughter.
“Twenty thousand knights is a daunting prospect,” said Tekoa as soon as the rangers were out of earshot. “We will need to find a location that nullifies
