like many other officers, had taken a unit and gone his separate way. Sithis, however, unlike the others, had not taken his own unit per se, but had carefully selected a number of men he especially had his eye on. Consequently, the ‘Swords’ had been born of some of the best swordsmen the Imperial army had to offer. And it showed in their training methods, even in just the four days since Sithis and his unit had arrived. Some of the lowliest men who’d turned up at Munda had been indentured farmers whose livelihoods had been swept away from under them by Velutio’s reprisals against unsupportive lords or just his pure acquisition of lands. And some of these peasants who’d never wielded anything more dangerous than a hoe in their lives had a glint of steel in their eye and swiped and parried as well as the career soldiers. Sithis’ regime was tough and lasted almost as long as the light each day.
All in all the training was going well. They’d made last minute plans before Tythias and Darius and their party had left on the political mission to gather support. Sithis, Marco and Mercurias had stated that the more time they got to train the army, the better chance they would stand when they finally brought someone to battle, but equally, Sarios and Kiva had pointed out that every day their army got better, Velutio’s army and power grew. In the end, a route was agreed that would take the Emperor’s entourage in a circuit through seven of the more local lords in the space of two weeks, returning to Hadrus then. One more week would be allowed for any lords who joined them to reach the meeting point at Munda, and then the army would march, hopefully picking up further allies as they travelled.
There were approaching ten thousand men stationed at Hadrus now and, with the exception of certain mercenary units that maintained their independence due to the specific tasks they’d been allocated, the entire force had been organised along traditional Imperial lines. There had been some grumbling among lords who thought they were far too clever commanders to have been allocated lesser positions, such as quartermaster or officer of only a hundred men, but on the whole most people had been placed in positions for which they were suited. The private forces of the various lords had been broken up and dispersed alongside some of the lesser mercenary units and prior loyalties had been abandoned; Kiva had made that clear in his first speech to the army. Every new recruit, no matter what his background, was made to take the oath once more, to Darius, to the people and to the Empire. A second oath had been elicited from every man, pledging individual allegiance to their own officer and the commanders of the army.
It was with tremendous satisfaction that Kiva noted how speedily the engineers had been put together and how little outside organisation and training was required. Engineers were always like that though, and the entire corps had been formed of men with prior engineering experience or interest. They knew their jobs and enjoyed them and the entire force had been constructing, testing and reworking different machines from the moment they’d first formed. Now, in what was once the massive exercise yard of the prison, bolt throwers, catapults, siege engines and strange constructions that Kiva couldn’t easily identify lined the walls and he could see even now a half dozen engineers crawling over one of them with tools and sheets of schematics.
The cavalry was nominally under the command and guidance of Tythias, though due to his continued absence, one of his men had remained in Hadrus to train and organise them. Kiva had never been a great believer in the value of cavalry on the battlefield, though Tythias had argued vociferously for their inclusion at a command level. Given his own way, Kiva would use them only as scouts and light, mounted skirmishers, but Tythias had badgered Athas until the big sergeant had ordered his armourers to begin work on chain armour for the steeds. The Lion Riders intended to make serious use of heavy cavalry after the fashion of the eastern peoples.
As Kiva stood watching, a small unit of newly-recruited horsemen in full uniform came riding into the cavalry training area, a large space of lawn that had been previously unused just inside the walls. Dressed in shirts of chain mail that hung down to their knees, they each carried an oval shield and a short spear, with a long sword hanging by the belt loop from the saddle. They clutched the reins and hauled on them as they reached their training officer, a Lion Rider named Peris, who shook his head in irritation.
“Firstly, forget everything you’ve ever been taught about horses. You’re all either trained to ride for fun or sport or you’ve been trained for battle by an idiot.”
There was a grumbling among the horsemen.
“Shut the fuck up. When I talk, you listen and you pay attention. Every one of you needs to lean forward and remove the reins, bit, bridle; the whole frigging lot from all your horses.”
Three of the men did so immediately while the others stared at each other. One brave young man thrust a hand in the air.
“This is not a fucking classroom, lad. What?”
“Sir,” the young man asked, “why are we getting rid of our reins?”
Peris growled. “You’ve all been given proper military saddles. I intend to show you how to use them. The saddles are different from the ones you’re used to. The four horns at the corners are keeping you wedged in your seat, as I presume you’ve noticed. You’ll also have noticed there’s no stirrups. I’m going to teach you how to control your steed with just your knees. Your feet will be free to kick the horse gently or any footman bloody hard. Your hands’ll be free to wield both sword, spear and shield liberally without having to fight for control with the horse too.”
As he spoke, others began to remove their reins. “As far as your weapons are concerned, you’ll bear your shield on your left arm, whether you’re left
The last of the men was now removing his bridle and they sat holding the leather straps aimlessly. The training officer grumbled in his throat.
“You can make use of
Kiva smiled. It reminded him so much of his early days at Vengen. This was what the world lacked these days: order and sense. And that was one of the best reasons for doing what they were doing. He turned, still listening to the commander barking out instructions.
“Your horses will be slower and heavier and more difficult to handle when their barding’s complete. Several stone of chainmail will make them less responsive, so you’ll need to work with them…”
His voice trailed off as the general walked away from the fence. The whole place was alive with activity. He strolled past the forges and furnace where Athas had homed all the personnel with any skill at smithing. Only three men had known how to manufacture chainmail links and put them together, but with expert supervision, that number had grown quickly and shirts and horse armour were now being churned out daily. Still, faster production was needed. Beyond was the punishment yard. Here, decades ago, prisoners who’d broken the rules had been flogged or beaten or locked in the sweat-box. Now it was lined with dummies and targets along the two ends, with standing positions marked in the middle.
Archers had been trained not en masse, but in highly adaptable and mobile units of forty, with these units being brought together in fives under the command of individual missile commanders. It was at times like this when his thoughts turned to the Wolves they’d lost recently. Thalo would have been the best man to command and train the archers; there was no one better. But he was gone and his killers, the crossbowmen of Captain Phythian had been amalgamated with Filus’ Western Legion’s archers for the sake of surety of their loyalty. They stood in the centre of the punishment yard, ploughing bolt after bolt into the dummies and targets. The speed and accuracy was truly impressive, though even thinking about it pushed him once more into thoughts of the Wolves that these men had killed. A low growl escaped his throat and he forced himself to remember why they were here. They’d taken new oaths and worked with a trustworthy commander now. And they were an asset.
He was still brooding when a voice behind him said “and do you trust them?”
The general turned to see Sithis standing behind him. The captain of the Swords had been a real ladies’ man in the old days, a swashbuckler and a man of some reputation among the court. These days, despite twenty some
