Relam shook his head. “I only ride when hunting or traveling, and usually gear is taken care of in a wagon or we don’t need any.”
“Thought as much,” the warrior replied. “Stuff everything in the saddlebags, hanging down there, see. Then tie your empty pack on top. Buck here will appreciate that, more comfortable for him.”
Relam quickly did as Oreius instructed and inspected the result. “Not bad,” he allowed. “How long have you been here?”
“An hour,” Oreius replied. “I wanted to get to the wall before this side of the city started stirring. I had no wish to be robbed on my way out on campaign.”
“Is that common?” Relam asked, surprised.
“Extremely,” the old warrior said, frowning. “Never been over here?”
“Not recently, no.”
“Humph. Well, here’s your first lesson: The rest of the world isn’t like the east side of the capital.”
Oreius turned away and mounted his own horse, ready to move now that Relam was here. Relam climbed into his saddle as well, and around him the cavalry began following suit.
“Form up!” Relam shouted over the chaos. “Stick to your squads, ranks of five.”
The cavalry quickly arranged itself in a long column, extending back down the main road some ways. Relam checked that everyone was in position, then nodded to the corporal.
“Open the gate!” the corporal bellowed.
With a rumbling crash, the portcullis began to rise and the timber doors swung outwards, revealing the flatlands west of Etares and a long, dusty road stretching off into the distance. Oreius casually maneuvered so that he was beside Relam, and nodded to the prince.
“Ready?” he asked.
Relam nodded. “Forward!” he called. Then, he and Oreius led the way at a slow canter through the open gate. The cavalry followed close behind in perfect formation.
The moment the last of Relam’s force was through the gate, the portal began to close, the portcullis sliding downwards and the massive doors swinging ponderously back into place. Finally, with a rolling boom, the west gate was sealed once more. Relam looked back once, then focused on what lay ahead.
“We’ll follow the road into the Midwood,” he said to Oreius. “And make camp late this afternoon. Tonight, we’ll gather the squadron leaders and the informant and brief everybody, then develop a plan of attack.”
Oreius nodded slowly. “That’s a good start,” he agreed. “Have you given any more thought to the attack itself?”
Relam shook his head. “Not really. Nothing has changed since we last spoke.”
“Did it occur to you to use the men differently? Not as cavalry but as infantry?”
The prince frowned thoughtfully. “I’m not sure how a hundred swordsmen would be any better than a hundred riders. We’d lose quite a bit of mobility. I suppose we would gain some stealth though.”
“There’s something more important that we would gain,” Oreius prompted.
Relam looked back at the column of riders. The nearest squadron was riding just two meters back, their sergeant in the center of the front rank. The two men flanking him had bows in their hands, and quivers of arrows slung over one shoulder.
“Archers,” Relam said, remembering. “Nearly half of these men are archers.”
Oreius nodded. “And that gives you a great many options. Does that spark any ideas?”
“Surround the camp,” Relam said immediately. “Start picking them off with arrows.”
“Be hard to pull off without being seen,” Oreius pointed out. “But yes, that is a possibility. One disadvantage is that it spreads your forces in a thin perimeter, and a thin perimeter is more likely to be broken and allow many of the bandits to escape.”
“Then we keep a cavalry reserve to run them down,” Relam suggested. “After all, if we’re pouring arrows into the camp we won’t be sending ground troops in.”
Oreius nodded encouragingly. “Good. Now, what about the archers themselves? Where will you position them?”
“As I said, all around the-”
“No, where will you physically place them?”
Relam looked at the sword master, not understanding. “In a circle?”
Oreius sighed heavily. “Let’s think this through. The archers are firing into the enemy camp. Bandits are running for the hills. A bandit spearman or swordsman stumbles on an archer. What happens?”
“Dead archer?” Relam guessed.
“Precisely,” Oreius agreed. “And a break in your perimeter. Two problems for the price of one. And you might as well throw in the difficulty of a ring of archers all facing each other wildly launching arrows at running targets.”
“That does sound dangerous,” Relam admitted, somewhat deflated. He had been so confident in his idea as he was putting it together. And now Oreius had ripped the whole thing apart in seconds, after putting Relam on this track in the first place. What did the old man want? Had Relam missed something?
“Yes, very dangerous” Oreius grunted. “Fortunately, there is a wonderfully easy way to counter all these problems.”
Relam looked up excitedly. “There is? What is it?”
Oreius shook his head. “That’s for you to figure out before tonight. You should have plenty of time to think while we’re riding.”
“Any hints?”
“Of course not.”
Relam sighed and began racking his brain for a solution. As he did, he continued to lead the cavalry down the road, kicking up a massive dust cloud in their wake. Ahead, the Midwood was rearing up to greet them, a great shadowy tangle of trees and underbrush. The perfect lair for a force of bandits.
As the morning wore on, the clouds overhead became swollen with the promise of rain. The sky hardly brightened, even though the sun was on the rise. A light mist began to fall, cold and stinging. The soldiers pulled cloaks from their saddlebags and wrapped themselves in the water-resistant wool garments to stave off the rain, pulling hoods forward to shield their faces.
Within the hour, they had reached the Midwood. They did not pause at the forest’s
