Githru. The pass by the sea. The legions were ready within the hour and Roper, mounted on Zephyr this time rather than marching with his warriors, led the column north-east; back towards the Suthern army and towards the battlefield. Tekoa and Gray flanked him and Pryce and Helmec marched behind, eyes roaming the landscape. The Skiritai spread forward, scouting the hills surrounding the column. The end was in sight and, tinged with shades of Pryce’s manic energy, the legions were hungry. No matter that they were still outnumbered two to one and had not even begun to fight the Suthern elite and heavily armoured knights; they wanted this challenge. Their morale was high and they were assured in their cause.
“I bloody hate horses,” grumbled Tekoa, tugging irritably at his reins as he trotted alongside Roper. “They’re arseholes. They’re overly sensitive, they’re selfish. They’re not attractive or affectionate. I do not find their inability to produce art or music endearing. They’re useless unless you’ve put their shoes on for them. They make a fuss when you try and put their shoes on. What a mediocre animal. So I thought it might make a suitable wedding gift for you, lord,” shot Tekoa, glancing straight-faced at Zephyr, trotting alongside him.
Roper restrained a smile. “What animals do you favour, Tekoa?”
“Hounds. Loyal, loving, obedient and born useful. You don’t have to give a dog shoes, do you?”
“I suppose not,” said Roper. “I’m pleased with Zephyr, though. He is a warrior as fine as most in the Sacred Guard.” He patted the beast’s thick neck.
“I had no idea what I was going to do with that monster,” Tekoa admitted. “I wasn’t going to ride it but I’ll be damned if someone like Pryce has a bigger horse than me.” They rode in silence for a while. “So I doubt you’re looking forward to the end of this campaign, Roper, what with the coiled viper that is waiting for you back home.”
“Uvoren?”
“Keturah,” said Tekoa. “You’ll be glad for someone as easy to handle as Uvoren once you’ve tried being married to my daughter.”
“Oh,” said Roper, smiling. “That is a challenge I’m looking forward to tackling.”
“Keep your tackle out of this, young man,” growled Tekoa.
Gray burst out laughing and Roper even heard Pryce let out a snort behind them.
“She may have found someone else,” called Pryce. “My cousin is not short of suitors.”
“Following her around like lapdogs,” snapped Tekoa, frowning suddenly. “A pack of fools.”
“Worry not, my lord,” said Gray. “Keturah strikes me as someone who can handle a fool.”
“So, you’ve had it, I’m afraid, Roper,” put in Tekoa.
Helmec laughed again and Gray was grinning broadly. Roper observed dryly that Tekoa was in fine humour.
“Naturally,” said Tekoa. “We’re on our way to a good fight and, even better, thereafter we’re back in the Hindrunn. It is the only comfortable place north of the Abus.”
“You have been south of the Abus?”
“There was a time when we went south regularly,” said Tekoa, furrowing his brow. “Your grandfather, Rokkvi, considered it wise to terrorise the Sutherners as a defensive strategy and in those days we would march with impunity. The Sutherners were more or less powerless. They had no standing army, but every town was fortified and when we moved south they would retreat, like an oyster closing its shell.”
“Did you make it as far as Lundenceaster?” Suthdal’s sprawling capital.
“We occupied it,” said Tekoa. “But Rokkvi considered it decadent, infested and corrupted; and besides, he had no wish to rule over the Sutherners. So he returned it to them in exchange for an extremely large quantity of iron.”
“But you liked it?”
“It had something about it,” said Tekoa, shrugging. “But Rokkvi was right: it was more trouble than it’s worth.”
“I never met my grandfather,” said Roper.
“Lucky you,” said Tekoa, grimly.
“Rokkvi was a fine leader, my lord,” said Gray. “But almost as cantankerous as Tekoa, here.”
Tekoa spared Gray a contemptuous look. Roper wished to know more, so between them Gray and Tekoa told him the stories of their campaigns. The two had shared many battles and had an unexpected fondness for each other. Everyone seemed fond of Gray, but what was more surprising was that Gray had equal regard for Tekoa. They were not natural friends but made good company for the march.
Roper asked to hear about the siege of Lundenceaster, fishing for inspiration on how he could ultimately retake the Hindrunn. The question was followed by a pause which told Roper that both men had understood what he was really asking.
Gray spoke first. “The thing about assaults, my lord, is that there are always casualties. You cannot attack a well-prepared fortress without losing many, many men. That’s just the way of things.”
“They are the very worst of warfare,” said Tekoa. “There is no glory. Just bodies. Thousands and thousands of them. And fire. And the fear is worse than anything else.” There was silence for a while. “Gray won us Lundenceaster.”
Gray laughed hollowly. “So it was said.”
“He did,” said Tekoa. “Rokkvi focused our forces in too small an area and the Sutherners were fighting fiercely. We were rebuffed again and again, and the ditch before the wall was filling with bodies. Uvoren was knocked out by a bouncing shot from a catapult. He was lucky not to have his head smashed in. Gray took command, seized a couple of ladders and led the rest of the Guard onto another wall, leading them onto the battlements and drawing enough defenders to allow us to gain a foothold. Clever fighting.”
“I didn’t want to die in that ditch,” said Gray. “And Uvoren did very well. He came to in time to bully his way onto a ladder. It was he
