Chapter 18
The following morning dawned bright and clear, golden shafts of sunlight slanting through the forest canopy above. Relam woke early, rolling up his bedroll before the sun had fully risen and packing up his gear. Around him, most of the camp still slumbered, getting a little extra rest before they rode into battle against the bandits.
Relam shivered slightly in the cold morning air and pulled his cloak around him, stomping his feet to wake them up and get the blood flowing. Then, he set off on a brief walk around the perimeter of the camp.
The sentries were still alert, scanning the forest relentlessly. They all held bows at the ready, arrows on the strings and ready to fire. They nodded greetings to Relam as he passed, then went back to work. Apparently, there was nothing worth reporting.
By the time Relam had made the rounds, other sections of the camp were beginning to stir. Soldiers were crawling out of their two-man tents, blinking sleepily and trying to wake up. Some were stretching or wandering around the camp. Others were checking their weapons and gear, making sure everything was in order and battle-ready.
When the prince finally returned to his own tent, he found Oreius was up and eating yet another cold breakfast.
“Good morning,” Relam said as he approached. The old man grunted in reply and tore another strip of dried meat in half with his teeth.
Relam took this to mean the warrior was not in a talking mood and broke out his own breakfast. The cold rations were growing less appetizing every day, and by the time Relam had finished his meal his jaw was sore from chewing.
“Not exactly a great way to start the day,” he muttered.
Oreius shrugged philosophically. “I’ve had better pre-battle meals,” he agreed. “But by eating cold rations we at least get to live until the battle starts. If we’d started fires, the bandits would already have either attacked or fled.”
Relam nodded. He knew why they had to eat the cold rations, but that didn’t mean he had to like them. Or that he couldn’t complain about it.
“Do you think there will be much for us to do?” he asked Oreius. “The reserve force, I mean?”
The warrior shrugged again. “Depends. If the enemy concentrate their attack on one side, we may have to lend a hand. But I expect they’ll scatter, a sort of every man for himself mentality. If that happens, our archers will account for most of them before they even reach the perimeter.”
Relam wrapped his arms around his knees, drawing them up to his chest. “I just want this over with,” he muttered. His stomach felt rather tight and his heart was beating faster than normal. He tried breathing slow and deep, but that just made him lightheaded and didn’t fix any other problems.
The morning passed slowly. Relam packed up his gear and loaded everything onto Buck. Unfortunately, this only took a few minutes and left him with more than an hour until they were due to depart. So he sat with Oreius, staring quietly westward, waiting for time to pass so that they could make their way to the enemy camp.
Finally, Relam looked up at the sun and noticed that it had reached the proper angle. It was time to ride. Quickly, he gathered the soldiers and formed them up in the usual column. Then, they began riding out slowly, watching the forest ahead for the first sign of the bandit base.
An hour in, the first rank stopped abruptly. Relam made his way to the front of the column and saw what the holdup was. Not a hundred meters away, mostly hidden by the trees, was a large cluster of tents, enough to house sixty people or more. Behind Relam, the sergeants gathered for one last council of war before battle was joined.
“You have your instructions,” Relam murmured. “Fan out, surround the camp. The first volley will come from this side. Once you see it, your archers can fire at will. Take the targets closest to the perimeter first.”
“What if we run into sentries?” one officer asked.
“Take them out, quietly,” Relam replied. “If you get into trouble during the battle, I’ll come running with the first squad. Any questions?”
The sergeants shook their heads.
“Then good luck,” Relam whispered fiercely. “I’ll see you on the other side.”
The sergeants grinned in reply and headed back to their men. In moments, squads two through ten had split off and were moving slowly through the dense tree cover to surround the camp. As they moved, no alarms were raised and their progress seemed to go unnoticed.
Relam waited, forcing himself not to give the order too soon, not to start the battle before everyone was in position. The first squad moved closer to the bandit camp, closing in behind the tenth squadron, which was just ahead. The young prince watched as four archers from the tenth squad swarmed up into several substantial oak trees and found perches looking down on the camp. He looked around the trees on the other side of the camp, but saw no sign of the rest of his men.
“A little longer,” he murmured, gripping his sword tightly. He took a deep breath, released it, scanned the forest again. Still nothing.
Relam turned his attention to the camp itself. A few men were up and about, but they were not paying any attention to the boundaries of the camp. They were intent on finding food and drink for their morning meal, though by the look of
