“My lord, who else?” asked Michelle. “Who else has the skills to slip unheard and unseen through the darkness but me?
And who other than the members of my pack can scent danger as it comes?”
Laurent shook his head and spat a low oath, but Luc said,
“Send the Wolves, Princess, but you stay nigh the top of the ridge, and should the foe begin movement this way have the pack bring word, and we will meet them on the downside of the slope and attack from the high ground.” Michelle’s eyes narrowed, but she then gave thought, and finally she said, “Well and good.”
. .
After a sleepless night, dawn came late under the dark roiling sky with its lightning and thunder and churn. But when the glimmer of dim day finally made its overdue appearance, arrayed in a long arc out on the plain before the way into the swamp stood Orbane’s throng.
“My lord,” said Armsmaster Vardon, “it appears we are outnumbered five or six to one.”
“Oui,” replied Emile, though at the moment the count of the enemy did not overly concern him. Instead, he surveyed their deployment, noting the disposition of the foe, and strategy and tactics tumbled through his mind.
Finally, he said, “I need an accurate estimate of the numbers and kinds of the foe. And call for the brigade commanders to join me, for I would confer with them.”
. .
Orbane swallowed a vial of the potion Hradian had made at his instructions. It was an elixir of protection she had concocted once long ago for her and her sisters and Orbane. It was the time they had, as a test, denuded a small realm of all plant and animal life, much to the dismay of an impervious rocklike creature high on a mountainside.
Hradian, too, drank a vial of the elixir, for this was the day when Orbane would raise the putrescence.
Under the dark and raging skies they stood on the flet of Hradian’s cote, and Orbane peered into the turgid murk below.
“Lend me your power, Acolyte,” he demanded.
“Oui, my lord,” said Hradian, even as she in turn added Crapaud’s power to her own.
And Orbane began to whisper and gesture down at the slime-laden waters, and a thin tendril of bilious vapor rose up through the ooze and the water and began to blossom, spreading outward, gaining in volume, the tendril becoming a cord and then a rope and then more, and the swamp water whirled and gurgled, turbulent eddies spinning away. Faster and faster spewed the yellow-green gaseous upsurge, vomiting forth from the swamp under-bottom. And it began spreading wide as it bellowed out.
And the leaves on nearby trees drooped, and hummocky grasses sagged. And Orbane continued his sibilant whispering, as from a churning vortex the putrescence erupted.
. .
“Why do they not attack?” asked Laurent.
“I deem they wait for us to make the first move,” replied Luc. “Likely they plan a trap.”
Standing beside Luc, Emile nodded and said, “Note how they are arrayed: Goblins with Goblins, Bogles with Bogles, Trolls with Trolls, and mounted Serpentines on the right flank.”
“ ’Tis their cavalry, Sieur Emile, these Serpentines,” said Leon.
“Mithras,” said Blaise, “but there must be two hundred Trolls there in the center of the line.”
The commanders stood on the ridge and surveyed the enemy standing two leagues away. They were joined this day by Michelle, for as Emile had said, “I will not have you running off willy-nilly without my express command.” And so, disgruntled, she sat to one side listening, with Slate and the others flopped down nearby.
“How many heavy crossbows have we altogether?” asked Bailen, adding, “I have in my brigade twenty.” Emile frowned and said, “I have a total of twenty-five.” Petain glanced at Georges and said, “Between us, we have ten.”
“That adds up to fifty-five heavy crossbows,” said Roel, “not enough to slay two hundred Trolls in one volley. Of course, can they get off four shots apiece, and if each is a kill then it is more than enough. Yet that is an unlikely scenario, given the time it takes to cock and reload and loose, and the Trolls will not be standing still.”
Leon glanced at Luc and said, “Then, after the first barrage, I think it’s up to my knights to deal with the Trolls, even as the heavy crossbows are made ready for a second volley.”
“Whoa, now,” said Blaise, “that means your fifty knights will be outnumbered by the Trolls at a minimum some three to one, at least until more are brought down by the crossbows.”
“I realize that,” said Leon grimly.
“But what of the Serpentines?” asked Georges. “Aren’t the knights more useful in bringing them down?”
“Oui,” said Sieur Emile, “they would be, yet I think our own cavalry can deal with the Serpentines.”
“You have a plan?” asked Georges.
Emile gestured at the plain. “The reason the Serpentines are on their right flank is because the starwise land on their left is steep and not given to a charge. Hence, they are stationed where they are to attack from the flat.”
Georges nodded.
“Too,” continued Emile, now squatting in the dirt and draw shy;ing with his dagger, “I ween the Serpentines think to round our left flank and come at us from the rear, trapping us between themselves the Trolls and Goblins and the Bogles, much like catching us between their hammer and the army’s anvil.” Emile looked up and smiled. “But two can play at that game.”
“How so?” asked Bailen.
“Heed,” said Emile, “they are arrayed in a cupping arc, like so”-he drew a long curve-“in the hope of surrounding us when we attack the center, for well do they know we will try to deal with the Trolls first. But if we march out in a long, diagonal line, a phalanx, like so”-Emile drew a slanting line in the soil-“and if we more or less conceal our cavalry behind the end farthest away from them”-now he drew a slash at the near end of the line-“then the Serpentines will have to ride down the phalanx to round our flank, thusly, and then-”
“And then we hit the Serpentines in their own flank with our concealed cavalry,” blurted Blaise.
“Brilliant,” murmured Luc.
“Indeed,” said Leon. “For by taking their cavalry in the flank with ours head on, they cannot easily bring their lances to bear upon our charge.”
“Ah, but how do we manage to conceal our own cavalry?” asked Petain. “I mean, we are coming downslope in full view.
Will they not see this ruse?”
“Three things,” said Emile, raising a hand, three fingers upraised. “Un”-he ticked down one finger-“it is dark under these dismal skies, and vision is hampered not only by the murk but also by bright flashes of lightning.” Emile ticked down a second finger. “Deux: our knights and heavy crossbowmen will be on the lead, the phalanx to follow, and while the attention is on them.” Emile ticked down the last finger. “Trois: our cavalry will have ridden on this side of the ridge to the gap on the left, where they will dismount and walk their horses through and conceal themselves behind yon nearby hill”-all eyes swung to the left of the plain, where stood the hilly land-“and when the final phalanx marches past, again they will walk the horses, and, by this ruse, to seem to be but more foot soldiers as they slip in behind.”
“Ah,” said Bailen. “And who will lead the cavalry?” Emile looked at Laurent, and then said, “Luc.” Laurent started to protest, but it died on his lips ere spoken, for Bailen then asked, “And who will lead the chevaliers ’gainst the Trolls?”
“Laurent.”
Even as Laurent clenched a fist and grinned, “But aren’t Luc and Laurent needed to lead their own battalions?” asked Leon.
“Non. Luc’s battalion will be led by Armsmaster Devereau, and Laurent’s by Armsmaster Jules.”
“And what of me and Roel?” asked Blaise.
“You both will join Laurent and the knights against the Trolls, and Armsmasters Bertran and Anton respectively will lead your battalions.” Emile looked down at the battle plan scratched in the dirt. “You see, except for delegating our champion of champions to lead the cavalry and eliminate the Serpentines, our knights are more valuable in dealing with the Trolls than in any other role, and all of the armsmasters are well suited to command.”