said. “You have something you wish to say to me?”
Kara fixed a stern look on him. “Maroth Marstel, you are a murderer and a usurper. I call on you to lay down your arms and surrender yourself to the rightful lord of Hulburg. All who have oppressed and harmed the people of Hulburg will be held to account, but we will spare the lives of your warriors and your captains if you surrender. This is your opportunity to make answer to the charges against you.” She paused, then added, “I don’t much care if you find your death on this field today, but your armsmen follow a fat old fool, and they deserve a chance to make restitution for what they’ve done. They won’t be able to do that when they’re dead.”
Marstel flushed in anger, but it was Edelmark who spoke next. “Bold words,” he said to Kara. “We’ll see how far your righteous indignation carries you when our cavalry’s cutting you to pieces and our runehelms are smashing your lines.” He looked over to Kendurkkel, and smiled coldly. “You would’ve been wiser to pass on this contract, Master Ironthane. It’s not too late to reconsider.”
“It’s been a long walk from Thentia,” the dwarf answered. “Hardly makes sense t’ turn back wi’out havin’ a go at ye, Edelmark.”
“Good,” said Miskar Bann. He glared at Sarth in his magical disguise, and slapped his left knee, which was encased in a brace of leather and iron. “I came here for a fight, anyway. I owe you for this limp, my lord Hulmaster. I’ll be looking for you on the field!”
Sarth shot Kara a quick look before he answered the Veruna captain. Clearly Bann knew Geran and had some grievance with him, although the tiefling had no idea what it might be. Sarth fixed an angry glare on Bann and snarled, “Then I’ll give you one to match on your other leg, if you insist!”
“I’m waiting for an answer,” Kara said.
“To that ridiculous ultimatum?” Marstel snarled. “You’ll have it soon enough, my dear. Your tired little rebellion ends today. No quarter, asked nor given.”
“Fine,” Kara said flatly. “No quarter asked, no quarter given.” She nodded sharply to Sarth and the standard- bearer, and the Hulmaster party wheeled their horses and cantered toward their own lines. Behind them, Marstel and his officers galloped off as well.
“I suppose we’ll be earnin’ our keep today,” Kendurkkel said as they rode back.
“So it seems,” Kara answered.
“Who was that Veruna captain?” Sarth asked.
“I wasn’t there, but I seem to recall that Geran crossed swords with a couple of Veruna armsmen at Erstenwold’s last year, just before his duel with Anfel Urdinger,” Kara replied. “He carved them up pretty badly. I think Bann might’ve been one of them.” She took a moment to study her dispositions from the front as they rode back. The tents and wagons of the Hulmaster encampment lay within the wide expanse of ruins that adjoined Rosestone, but all three shields of her army, and the Icehammers as well, now stood to arms along the remnants of the wall that had once encircled the abbey’s large outer bailey. The ruined walls weren’t much of an obstacle, but they offered some amount of cover, and the attacking force would be channeled toward the open spaces between the remaining wall sections. The old abbey building itself anchored their right flank; the Icehammers held that end of the Hulmaster line. Captain Wester’s First Shield waited in the center of their lines, and Captain Merrith’s Third Shield in a tangle of ruined outbuildings at the left flank. Larken’s Second Shield guarded the rearward approaches to the old bailey. The Amaunatori friars who still lived in the abbey’s intact portions had retreated to their chapel, hoping to stay out of the way.
The Shieldsworn cheered as they passed back into the lines. Kara nodded to Sarth, who slid down from his mount and hurried back out of sight in the abbey ruins again, and signaled for the shield-captains to join her. In a moment, Wester, Brother Larken, Merrith, and Kolton gathered around.
“I take it Marstel refused to kiss his own fat arse when you told him to?” Wester asked.
“No, he politely declined.” Kara smiled, but her eyes were fixed on the field in front of her. She studied distances, imagined maneuvers, and considered countermoves, all in the space of a few moments. “Larken, I want your shield to stand back off the line. You’re my reserve. As for the rest, we’ll stand our ground and let them come to us. We’ve got more bows than they do, and we’ll make them pay in the open ground.” She glanced around behind her, studying the lay of the land behind the Hulmaster camp. “I don’t think it’s likely, but if for some reason we’re driven out of the camp, fall back on the round hill there. That will be our rallying point.”
“Aye, Lady-Captain,” her captains answered.
“All right, get to your shields. No one’s to move from our lines without my signal. May Tempus favor you all.” Kara waited as the captains galloped off to their own companies, and quickly set their ranks in order. She rode over to take up a place near Brother Larken’s company, where she could keep an eye on the whole battle and choose the right time and place to commit the reserve.
Across the space between the armies, she could see the standards of the various merchant detachments riding away from Marstel’s banner, returning to their own companies. It seemed that the false harmach’s forces had finished with their own deliberations and were ready to advance. Several trumpets sounded from Marstel’s banner; the Council Guard ranks murmured and stirred, marching forward. The wind rose, making their banners ripple and snap in the breeze; the distance between the armies began to shrink.
“The enemy cavalry’s on the move,” Sergeant Kolton said from beside her. The old veteran was in charge of the small knot of bodyguards who stayed close to Kara and Sarth.
“I see them,” Kara replied. Between the Jannarsks, the Iron Ring, and the Verunas, there were close to two hundred enemy horsemen to keep an eye on; they rode out from behind the enemy left and positioned themselves to harass her right flank, where the Icehammers were posted. “Kendurkkel can hold them at bay.”
“Shall we open fire?” Larken asked her.
Kara shook her head, waiting for Marstel’s soldiers to march closer. She didn’t want her soldiers wasting arrows, and more importantly she wanted her enemies well within the killing ground when the first blows began to fall. When the distance between the ranks was half a bowshot, she nodded to her standard-bearer. “Vossen, signal the shield-captains: volley fire!”
The Hulmaster banner dipped and straightened; Shieldsworn trumpeters sounded the signal for Kara’s command. As one, the archers in each of the shields on the line bent their bows, held a moment, and then loosed their arrows. Almost a third of the Hulmaster soldiers carried heavy bows, and hundreds of arrows streaked through the gray skies. Council Guards reeled and fell beneath the deadly rain; distant screams echoed across the open moorland, and the approaching ranks seemed to ripple and writhe like a great, wounded serpent. Ten heartbeats later, a second volley took flight, and more of Marstel’s soldiers dropped. But now bolts and arrows arced out of Marstel’s formation in reply. The Hulmaster troops were tough targets for Marstel’s archers; most were armored in mail, and those not plying their bows carried large shields they now raised against the enemy fire. Some missiles found their mark anyway, and Hulmaster soldiers began to fall by ones and twos with cries of pain or choking screams. Then a third Hulmaster volley followed, raking Marstel’s ranks again.
“The runehelms,” Sarth murmured. Kara looked to the center of the enemy line, and scowled. The sleet of arrows seemed to make no impression at all on Rhovann’s gray constructs. The things marched straight ahead without breaking step, gathering arrow after arrow with little effect.
“Let’s hope that swords and axes work better,” she answered. Nils Wester’s First Shield held the center of the Hulmaster line; they’d be the ones to meet the runehelm assault. The enemy fire grew heavier, and now fiery bolts and jagged lances of lightning shot out from wizards and sorcerers scattered through the enemy ranks. Roars of fire and deafening thunderclaps pealed over the moor. The Hulmaster army had no spell-casters to speak of beside Sarth. Kara glanced toward the Icehammers’ end of the battle; the merchant cavalry darted and feinted at the mercenaries’ flanks, but they held their distance, waiting for the Hulmaster army to break.
“Archers! Fire as you will!” Kara called. Horns and trumpets sounded again, and regular flights of arrows became a steady hail of hissing shafts. The Hulmaster captain set her eyes on the cluster of banner-bearers where Marstel and his officers watched the unfolding battle behind the ominous formation of runehelms. She was sorely tempted to lead a charge against the enemy captains, but until she knew exactly how dangerous Rhovann’s toys were, she didn’t dare risk it.
Goaded by the deadly missiles, the Council Guard broke into a jogging charge, while the Shieldsworn raised a great chorus of war cries. With an awful sound of clattering steel and shouting warriors, the two armies finally met along the Shieldsworn line. To the left and right, the Shieldsworn wavered under the assault, but held the line; man-for-man, they were more heavily armored and better trained than the Council Guard, and Marstel’s advantage in numbers wasn’t enough to overwhelm them. But in the center, the Shieldsworn didn’t face Marstel’s hired
