Warlord

'There are only two real routes of approach from the south for a force that size'-which could not get far from potable water, for one thing-'here and here. Major Zahpata, you'll take your battalion, the 1st Gaur Rangers, and the 3rd Chongwe Dragoons with one battery, and push down this route.'

Haldolfo Zahpata of the 18th Komar Borderers nodded, stroking his pointed black beard. He was a leathery middle-aged professional, experienced but not ambitious, and middling gentry at home. Buthelezi of the 1st Gaur was a crony of Dalhouse's, but he wouldn't give Zahpata trouble.

'Major Thiddo, you'll take your Slashers, the 21st Novy Haifa Dragoons, the 17th Hemmar Valley Cuirassiers, and likewise one battery.' Putting Dalhouse under Thiddo was a calculated risk; the man was insanely birth-proud, and senior to boot. On the other hand, putting Poplanich in charge of that column was out of the question; nobody with any ambition, of which Dalhouse had more than his share, was going to associate with a Poplanich. I can accompany that column in person, Raj thought

'Both of you: Your mission is to fix the front of Admiral Auburn's column and force it to deploy-which, knowing the Squadron, will take quite some time. Move forward fast, but do not allow yourselves to be drawn into a melee. Remember, you have four times the range of their weapons and five times the rate of fire; put one battalion up on point, and keep the other two and the guns on overwatch from defensible terrain every time you move forward. When you make contact, have your lead battalion gall them with long-range fire. When they charge, fall back on your base-of-fire and give them volley fire and shrapnel until they start to envelop you. Then fall back and repeat the process. The column which hears the other engage first will ride to the sound of the guns and repeat the process; draw them back on the camp, but as slowly as possible.

'Colonel Menyez, you will be in charge of the camp and the infantry,' Raj went on. Menyez nodded, wiping his nose on a handkerchief in his perpetual allergy problem. 'Keep them standing to arms; light combat load, hardtack, water, and double ammunition, but man the walls and stand ready to support either cavalry force if it's driven in, or to move forward.' Only a couple of the infantry units were really steady enough to face cavalry in the open. 'Major Poplanich, you will act as central cavalry reserve at my or Colonel Menyez's discretion.' At that, Ehwardo could be relied on to work with an infantry officer without complaint; not something to be assumed with many of the others.

'Major Staenbridge will move immediately; the cavalry columns at dawn, when the camp beats to arms. And if that's all, Messers, I suggest those of us who can get some rest and the remainder attend to business. It's going to be a long day.'

The meeting broke up quickly; nobody was in a mood for chitchat. Raj stood by the outer post of the tent; the two Descotter battalions were outside, filling the square as the men sat beside their crouching dogs.

'Keep them in play while you can,' Raj said to Gruder and Staenbridge. 'I'm giving you all I can spare because I'd really rather fight one battle at a time, if I could.'

Gerrin nodded, slapping his fist into his palm to tighten the gloves. 'City militia and sailors on dogback,' he said, 'apart from Conner and his house-men.'

Kaltin grinned. 'Mebbe we'uns kin do summat fer ye, loik, ser,' he drawled in broad County dialect

They all slapped fists together, and Raj watched them walk out to their commands with envy. Damn, but I'd like to have just one job of manageable size, he thought as he watched.

'Mount!'

The troops swung into the saddle; forward file-closers in each company carried lighted torches of bundled oilwood sticks, so that the formations could keep position in a fast night march.

Gerrin Staenbridge stood in the stirrups and pitched his voice to carry:

'Right, lads, it's time to earn our pay and show the enemy what County men are made of. These barbs make a lot of noise and look a sight, but they'll go back faster than they come forward after they meet us. Just remember to mind the orders and aim low.' His right fist shot skyward and then chopped down to the front. 'To Hell or plunder, dog-brothers-walk-march, trot.'

Suzette came up behind Raj, sliding her hand through the crook of his elbow as they watched the streaming fires pour down to the gate and turn north on the coast road; the moons were both down, and there was only the rippling frosted light of the stars to show them against the white dirt of the track. Her voice was a murmur at his shoulder.

'You should sleep, my darling,' she said. 'A little while, at least.'

He put an arm around her waist. 'Can't,' he sighed. 'Too wired-hell, too much kave.'

'Come.' She pulled him gently toward the rear of the tent. 'I can make you sleep. Come with me, my love.'

* * *

'Raj. Raj, wake up.'

'Huh.' Raj sat upright with a jolt, out of dreams of fear and flight. It was still hard dark; Suzette was there in her wrap, touching his shoulder. He slid the pistol back under the pillow and swung his feet to the floor, scrubbing his face with his hands, then splashing water over it from the basin and running fingers through his hair. Right now his brain felt muzzy, worse than if he had not slept at all, but he would be better for the rest in a little while.

'It's da Cruz,' Suzette said quietly.

Swift and skillful, one of the servants was laying out fresh kit: trousers, boots, underclothes, belt, ammunition pouches, slide rule, mapcase, binoculars. And another mug of kave with a cup of goat's milk. Spirit, he thought, swigging them down in alternate gulps. If the Azanians ever cut off our supply of kave beans, the Army high command is doomed.

'He's wounded,' she went on. 'Not seriously. It was the Skinners, not the enemy.'

Scramento, he thought, grunting. 'There goes the western flank.' And a three- battalion force of the Admiral's death-sworn household guards getting ready to fall on him out of nowhere, too.

'Don't worry,' he said, laying a hand on her cheek for an instant. 'Just the usual desperate emergency.'

Da Cruz was swearing as Raj dipped a shoulder through the doorflap into the outer room of the tent, fastening the collar of his tunic and knotting the red-and-black checked bandanna. The noncom was on a stool, bare to the waist while a Renunciate medico in jumpsuit and robe worked on a long superficial cut on his forearm. The coal-oil lamp showed the stocky torso and knotted arms laced with scar tissue; knife, sword, bullet, and shrapnel had all left their marks, and it looked as if someone had once tried to write their name on the Master Sergeant's stomach with a hot iron, getting as far as the second letter before trailing off.

Now he had a new wound, a long shallow slash along the outside of the arm from wrist to elbow. The nun swabbed it out with iodine, washed the arm with blessed water, and began building a substantial bandage with linen and gauze.

'Spirit's holy static, careful with that, Sister!' he said.

'Watch your language,' she snapped back. 'No hope of getting you to rest it?' She clicked her tongue. 'Boys. Well, try and keep it clean.'

'What happened, Top?' Raj said.

Some of it was obvious from da Cruz's uniform tunic, thrown on the floor. The left arm was blood-soaked and slit-it had taken a very sharp blade to do that-and one of the tails had been cut off as an improvised bandage. A Skinner patcha knife, Raj judged, the arm-long type they kept as general-purpose chopping tool. It had been originally designed to cut firewood and hack through the massive bones of grazing sauroids; but the Skinners were nothing if not versatile.

'It's them Skinners, Messer Raj,' da Cruz said. He took the water-jug a servant offered and drank, Adam's apple bobbing. Wounds made a man thirsty, and he looked to have lost some blood. 'Theyun er five klicks outa position, an' boozin' summat fierce in a Squadron kasgrane. Tole 'em to git movin'-git this fer my pains, ser. Lucky to 'scape wit' me life.'

'Joy,' Raj said.

Think. This is your job, think. The Squadron battle plan was a monstrosity, even before it was compromised; it depended on things going right and precise coordination between what were little better than armed mobs. The two thousand out west were the only enemy force that was really mobile, and the only one that was all full-time professional fighters-not really soldiers, but they would have some