“We’ll be made to encamp in the vale,” I said. “We should go down and find a bivouac before the rest of the army arrives. Upstream of the rest of the army, to avoid the foulness they’ll cast into the water.”
Utterback lowered the glass and cocked an eye at me. “You are an old soldier already, then?”
“I’m old enough to prefer my drinking water clean.”
“You reason well.” Utterback put the glass back in its case and slung it over his shoulder, then turned to mount his bay courser. At his gesture, the trumpeter issued the call to mount, and the troop was on its way down the road.
Ere long, we were down in the valley, across the stream, and camped in one of the meads upstream of the ford when one of the camp marshals arrived and ordered us to shift to another place, because another regiment had been awarded the site. Utterback flat refused him, and said the other group could find their own bivouac, which they must have done because we never heard from the camp marshal again.
I was developing admiration for the way Lord Utterback defied Necessity. Of course, he was a lord, and had no obligation to pay attention to anyone who did not outrank him—and those who did, in fact, outrank him, did not run their own errands.
We of Utterback’s household spent the night listening to the rain drum on our canvas tents, eating cheese and brawn served cold with mustard, and pottage once the cooks managed a fire, and our train of mules could find us. We ate much the same food as the troopers—Utterback cared for them as well as our supplies permitted, and did his men the courtesy of not hosting banquets while they starved—though of course the ordinary soldiers did not enjoy Utterback’s excellent wines and brandies.
I was sleeping in my own tent when a messenger arrived to summon Lord Utterback to the Knight Marshal, and I was awakened to drag myself along and take notes. It was pouring, and I put on a hat and oilskins before saddling my horse, and carried my notebook inside my doublet, where it would not be soaked.
The Knight Marshal’s tent was marked by blazing torches, and by men riding to and fro. Waiting inside on an ivory-inlaid folding chair, our commander looked worse than ever, much shrunken, and wore his coat of sable fur tufted up above his chin, a coat so thick and rich that it made his lean form seem thick as a barrel. Atop his head was a fur hat pulled down over his ears, and he wore mittens of marten skin.
In one corner of the tent was a little shrine, with statues and symbols of the many gods, among which the Pilgrim stood tallest. Frankincense stung the air. “Utterback,” said the Marshal, as he regarded my patron with his opalescent, cataract-shadowed eyes. The eyes shifted to me. “You,” he said.
I bowed. “Your lordship’s surmise in correct. I am indeed myself tonight.”
He grunted in reply, while his staff and the other officers glared at me. The Count of Wenlock, raindrops glistening in his grizzled hair, gave me a disgusted look.
Wenlock had arrived just before the army set sail from the city to the head of the Long Firth, from which our march commenced. From what little I could discern, he spent all his time poisoning the Knight Marshal’s mind against me. He was one of a pack of nobles and rich gentlemen who accompanied the army without actually having joined it, and who expected to be honored and catered to while they treated the men and officers as if they were lackeys. They were well-bred enough that the Knight Marshal couldn’t get rid of them, and they buzzed about him like insects. Had it been up to me, I would have given them all to Clayborne.
The sound of clanking spurs came from outside the tent, and more officers arrived. There were more officers than were strictly necessary, and the redundancy included Lord Utterback himself. For he commanded a troop, and normally troops would be combined into squadrons, and squadrons perhaps into regiments. But the troops were for the most part commanded by nobles, and nobles could never agree to serve under one another, and the Knight Marshal did not insist. So, the cavalry were formed all of independent troops, and did whatever they pleased.
Our breath steamed in the light of the lamps. We waited, not speaking, till the tent was full, and then the Marshal heaved himself to his feet, steadied himself on the arm of one of his grandsons, and leaned on a folding table.
“The usurper’s army has been located,” he said. “Beyond this next pass, and the pass after that. I shall attack tomorrow.”
His mittened hands searched among the papers. “He is at a town called Peckside, half a day’s march away. He is fortifying the place, though the weather is hampering him, and the rain fills his trenches. Ha!”
He straightened, and his nostrils broadened, as if he was already smelling the gunsmoke. “The weather is clearing, and the march is straightforward. I will attack tomorrow afternoon.”
I looked in surprise at the canvas over our head, and heard the sound of rain drumming unabated. The weather seemed not to have been told that it was clearing.
The Marshal looked again at his maps. “I am told there are two roads to Peckside. I shall take the main road directly to the town and attack the enemy on his left, where his fortifications are incomplete and partly submerged. But the other way must be guarded, lest some portion of the enemy’s force get behind us.”
He looked up. “Lord Utterback, I have chosen you for this duty.”
This caught Utterback entirely by surprise. “Yes, my lord,” he said. I looked to the Count of Wenlock and saw a satisfied expression on the count’s face, and knew that it was Utterback’s father who had procured this appointment.
“When we reach the crossroads,” the Marshal continued, “you will take the way to the left. It leads to a village called Exton. When you come to the pass above the village, entrench yourself there. If you come upon an enemy, you will send me an estimate of his numbers and then, if he advances, fight him as long as possible.”
Utterback straightened in surprise. “Yes, my lord,” he said. “What force may I have?”
“Your own troop. Lord Barkin’s troop. Bell’s company of infantry, and Fludd’s, along with Ruthven and Grace. Lipton’s gunners, and Frere’s dragoons for scouting.”
“Yes, my lord.” Utterback blinked. “May I ask where I may find my companies?”
The Marshal seemed irritated by the question. He waved a hand. “Ask about, Utterback. Come the dawn, they will be easy to find.”
Utterback seemed bewildered. “Yes, my lord.”
“You may apply to the quartermaster for supplies.”
“Very good, my lord.”
After the Knight Marshal made his other dispositions, Utterback and I splashed back to our troop. I could tell that my patron was less than pleased by his appointment.
“My lord,” I said as we rode, “it seems to me the best possible outcome for you.”
He regarded me suspiciously. “Yes? How so?”
“You have been honored with an independent command. Yet you will miss the battle.”
Rainwater dripped off his nose. “And how is this to my advantage?”
“You run not the risk of being killed, and will therefore have full opportunity to enjoy your new command.”
Utterback was irritated. “Yet will I have no share of glory.”
“You will attain the glory of having participated in a victorious campaign. As you intend not a military career but a political one, any greater share of the glory will be superfluous.” And then, as this seemed not to content him, I added, “Submit to Necessity, my lord. This fits well with your philosophy.”
His lordship was still displeased. “You claim more understanding of my philosophy than I do,” he said.
We had no further sleep that night, for soon the trumpet was blown to rouse the camp and fires lit to provide breakfast for the troopers. By the time dawn lightened the clouds, we were in the saddle and ready to move, and Utterback sent the main body ahead while he tried to find the scattered regiments which were his honor to command. He found the cavalry easily enough, but everyone else was far back in the column, and so we rode out alone on the heels of the cavalry, over the pass and down again, to where the road turned off to Exton. There I was stationed, to find and turn aside the elements of Utterback’s command as they came up.