“We go,” said Damon. He turned to the serrin woman who commanded the talmaad forces at this end of the valley. “We will need the talmaad to break up their cavalry as we go in.”
The woman nodded. Rhillian was her name, another of Sasha's friends, though Damon only knew her a little. Other serrin regarded her with a mixture of anger and fear that he had never seen serrin direct upon one of their own, but left little doubt as to her authority. It was awe, he supposed. Her face, above her light mail and leathers, was strikingly beautiful.
“As we have practised,” Rhillian agreed. “We will go first, your cavalry behind.”
“Just keep their cavalry off our formation, that's all I ask.”
Rhillian nodded, turned her horse, and galloped away.
“Damn,” said a lord from Tyree. “Best-looking woman I ever saw in my life.”
Another laughed. “If she lives, I'll marry her.”
“Do serrin women marry?” asked another.
“Aye, sometimes. Handsome men.”
“That rules you out.”
“We go now.” Damon cut off their cheerful debate. “No waiting. My sister says we can reach the river. If we do, we may win this war early.”
They departed with a rousing yell. As the provincial lords, real and de facto, galloped away to their formations, Damon considered his position. Behind, looming wide across the valley, stood the Dhemerhill Valley's western wall, still not as high as he'd have liked, yet serviceable. Before it, ranked in gleaming thousands, stood the Rhodaani Steel. Behind the wall, out of sight, was their surviving artillery.
The wall had no doors or gates, yet armies before it could retreat behind by ascending the flanking hills and going around. Obviously an attacking army could do the same, but would funnel itself into two narrow approaches on climbing ground that could be targeted by artillery, archers, and ground defences alike. If the Regent's army came around the wall that way, they'd be annihilated by hellfire one rank at a time. But that did not mean any retreat by the defenders to move behind the wall would be a simple matter either.
Ahead, the valley was wide, at least a thousand paces, turning gradually to the right as it approached the mouth and the Ipshaal River. High to the left, on the bluff overlooking the valley mouth and river, Damon could see a gleaming silver rank of warriors-the Ilduuri Steel. There seemed to be fighting, but the distance made it hard to tell. Beyond the ridge black smoke rose, and burning artillery made arcs across the sky. Damon hoped Sasha's artillerymen had practised all their angles well in advance, and were not dropping rounds short as those confounded catapults were liable to do. He still did not trust those things, and less so since he'd seen a catapult crew die two days earlier when a round erupted prematurely. Though he also hoped that the Regent's crews were struggling to master what would be for them foreign and unfamiliar contraptions.
The approach toward the Ipshaal was cultivated farmland, broken with trees, fences, barns, and the Dhemerhill River itself. Strict formations would be difficult here. But that suited the Lenays far more than the Steel, or the Regent. Lenays were like serrin in that they loved to improvise-the more fluid the circumstance, the better it suited him.
“Andreyis,” he summonsed the lad, “first go and tell the Rhodaani commanders what we do here. Then get back to Sasha and tell her that as our attack should take much of the pressure off her front, I'd appreciate as much artillery as she can grant us.” Just because he didn't trust it, didn't mean he was fool enough to reject it where available.
Andreyis nodded. “She says you can do it,” he added. “You can see the whole battlefield from up there, and she's certain you can reach the river.”
He turned and galloped back toward the Rhodaanis. Damon wheeled his own entourage, and cantered to his command position at the rear. Across the valley floor, fourteen thousand Lenay fighting men ran or galloped to form their lines, and find their positions in the ranks. To the east, the Rhodaani Steel began to realise what was happening, and that Lenayin was preparing to charge. There arose from their ranks an almighty cheer and a clashing of sword on shield that stirred even Damon's sceptical soul.
TWENTY-THREE
When Errollyn reached Kessligh's perch overlooking the eastern Dhemerhill Valley, he was dejected.
“There are too many of them,” he said tiredly, waving a hand back across the valley. “We fared averagely against the Lenays the first time, but then came the Kazeri, and we dealt with them harshly as always, but then came the Torovans, and after that the Lenays again…”
“You did excellently,” said Kessligh. “I'd feared we may be overrun at this end, but you've held them up to reconsider their position. I could not ask for more.”
His command vantage was on a bluff several hundred paces beyond the easternmost of Jahnd's defensive walls. From here he could see all across the valley's rightwards twist, and the broad expanse of valley floor it created on Jahnd's entire right flank. Along the ridgelines here were arrayed a small portion of the Ilduuri Steel and a whole host of catapults and ballistas, the furthest upon bluffs and ridges several thousand paces up the valley.
Down below, and behind Kessligh's position, was the eastern-facing wall across the valley. Before it were arranged the Enoran Steel in huge, gleaming squares. Before them, now, were a great mass of cavalry-mostly Enoran and talmaad, having been driven back down the valley from its far end by the invaders.
The invaders now made an even greater mass across the valley beyond, stretching well to the east, darkening the green fields with the sheer weight of horseflesh. Almost entirely cavalry, their order of battle held the Army of Northern Lenayin first, the Army of Torovan second, and the Army of Kazeri last…though the Kazeri probably did not see it like that. Also down there somewhere, Kessligh reckoned, would be one or two thousand men from the Holy Army of Rhodaan, led by Alfriedo Renine himself. Though General Zulmaher, formerly of the Rhodaani Steel, would be in actual command. Something to bear in mind, if command were to change.
“Koenyg leads them?” he asked Errollyn.
“Almost certainly,” said Errollyn. He took a long swig from his water flask, dishevelled and sweaty in the warm sun. “The talmaad are strong. We have lost perhaps one in five, dead or wounded. The Enorans…” he made a face, “they fought bravely, perhaps too bravely. I wanted them to disengage more quickly. They only needed to tangle their enemies for a moment to present the talmaad with easy shots, but often they stayed too long. They did well against the Kazeri and Torovans, but by the time the Lenays attacked again, they were exhausted, and those fucking Hadryn and Banneryd are just too damn good.”
“I know,” Kessligh said sombrely. “How bad?”
“Half,” said Errollyn. “We've lost half. Brave men.”
“Brave men,” Kessligh echoed. “We must ensure they did not die for nothing.”
“We killed perhaps three for every one we lost,” Errollyn added. “But the gold weight of those were Kazeri-we did less against the Torovans, and nowhere near enough against the Lenays. There's still about forty thousand left, I'd guess.”
“Fair guess.”
If those numbers were right, talmaad and Enoran cavalry would be down to about ten thousand. The Enoran Steel infantry were another twelve. Of the Ilduuris-only about four thousand-Sasha needed the bulk of them down at the western end, where the mass of the Regent's foot soldiers was about to be hurled.