At dusk, drums beat up and down the line. It was hard going, the men in front probing in pairs, one man hoisting shield and lamp while the other probed with his spear for krokes, mud sucks, and mires. Men got stuck in mud sucks, but they'd learned to use poles and brush to lever out the victims; scouts tested for firmer routes; on they crawled, as the stars wheeled overhead and the Embers Moon rose. Twice they crossed shallow channels; as they waded, the soldiers joked to cover the fear of a kroke attack. Arras slopped through calf-deep water, squelching as he climbed onto dry ground.
'We're especially vulnerable crossing the channels' he said to Giyara as they paused on the far shore after the second crossing. The moon by now had climbed halfway up the sky. It was very late, and soon the dawn would make them a target again for the reeves. 'Yet they don't attack.'
She took a swig of water from a leather bottle and spat it out. 'Maybe the reeves are all the attack they have.'
'I wonder. Maybe they're luring us in. Maybe they're poorly led. Or undermanned.'
'Maybe they're running away while the reeves cover their retreat.'
He chuckled. 'That hadn't occurred to me.'
As they moved forward, as midges clouded his arms and the night breeze wafted the acrid scent of tarweed, he kept wondering. What was going on in Nessumara? The quarter moon reached zenith as the eastern sky paled toward dawn. Hummocks of earth and stands of spiky brush began to appear in silhouette against the flat landscape.
'Subcaptain Piri approaching,' called a runner.
Piri appeared with an escort of two soldiers, one with a lamp and one with a spear and axe. 'Captain, there's a canal ahead, proper brick sides and three narrow plank bridges with the planks pulled free and abandoned on the far side. I've already got men across and laying the planks back in.'
'Either the defenders left in haste, or they're cursed stupid. Go on.'
'Beyond the canal is an island with pasture and field. At the far
side of the island stands a wall, mostly brush, broken wagons, boats, and rubbish thrown up between sheds and stables. It extends in either direction as far as I can see, maybe all along this front. They've erected platforms atop it, with archers. To reach the wall, we have to advance across all that open ground.'
Arras nodded. 'There's why they didn't attack us. Can we burn it? The smoke will shield us from the reeves, likewise.'
'With the breeze out of the southwest, the smoke'll blow right back on us. Best we pull it down. I'll need, a company of archers to check their archers. It's a hastily built wall. We can use hooks to tear it up. But I wouldn't march the cohort over the bridges until we're rid of those platforms. The open ground makes us cursed vulnerable.'
Arras nodded to Giyara. 'Detach a company of archers and shields. Piri, your company will open breaches in the wall. We'll attack in force once we've got an opening.'
Piri and Giyara hurried off as the order passed down through the cohort and men settled under shields to rest and eat. Arras with his aides walked the shore of the canal. In the shade of a fisherman's rush-woven lean-to he surveyed the island beyond as the archers turtled their way onto the open ground and set up a steady fire from behind braced shields. Soon the platforms were cleared. Cadres pressed forward behind shields. More men scrambled up atop the platforms, but Sixth Cohort's archers had gotten their range and pinned them down as the cadres hacked and hooked where the makeshift wall looked most vulnerable.
'Captain! The lord commander!'
He stepped out from the shade as white wings floated to earth.
Lord Radas sat astride the winged horse in a swirl of sun-bright cloak. 'Captain Arras! Why are you not advancing with your entire cohort?'
He ducked his face behind open hands. 'Lord Commander. We deemed it more prudent to clear the platforms while providing cover to a few cadres cutting a breach rather than offer a wide target with my entire front line. In addition, I'll exhaust only a few cadres while attacking with a rested force-'
'Your orders were to advance. We must reach the center of Nessumara. I'll tolerate no more delays! I have personally flown over the city. This is the only defense. All my other cohorts have crossed the channel already and are attacking the wall. We must overwhelm them.'
'Begging your pardon, Lord Commander, but there are two edges to war, subtlety and brutality. I think-'
'You think too much of yourself! How can you imagine you understand more than I do, who can fly above, who can see into your pathetic hearts, know your weakness, your crimes, your petty fragilities. Look at me!'
Arras winced. His aides, huddling in the lean-to's humble shade, groaned and gasped as if they had already been eviscerated.
'You fear me because I am more powerful than you are,' said Lord Radas. 'Because I can have you cleansed. You don't respect me. You think well of yourself but you do not understand how my plan plays out over the years. To you, it is all about today. I must consider tomorrow. Once we take Nessumara, we control the entire length of the River Istri. After the rains, we will strengthen our army with new recruits from Wedrewe, turn south, and destroy Olossi. Had we pushed forward the first time, months ago, we would have overwhelmed them. We will not make that mistake a second time. Now, move your cohort immediately. The cursed reeves will be out soon, but the day, and the victory, will belong to us. If Lord Blood visits your position, tell him to report to me at once.'
His horse sprang into the air, and Arras dropped to the ooze as hooves flashed above his head. When he rose, hands and knees dripping with muck, he stared after the lord commander's progress until the wings were caught by sunlight and abruptly vanished from his sight. The hells!
'Captain?'
'Sergeant Giyara.' He could speak, just barely, with an even voice as he tried to clap the muck off his gloves. 'Get the men over the bridges and form up for a frontal attack.'
Gods-cursed cloaks. As if he hadn't been the one who had argued against retreat in that first attack on Nessumara. Half his aides trotted away with the sergeant while he fumed on the canal's shore. The sun had risen high enough to spill its light over the canal's glossy waters. With Giyara in the van, troops began to funnel across the bridges. More enemy archers appeared on the wall platforms, but his archers kept up an efficient stream of fire.
Odd, really, how ephemeral that wall was, little more than planks and brush and hope. Surely they were not hinging their defense on it. He could not see Eighth Cohort much less the Eleventh and Ninth holding the right flank a mey upriver from his
position, but he heard the murmur of distant shouting, men eager to get to fighting and looting. An eagle glided past above, the first he'd seen. Otherwise, the sky remained empty but for a dark haze towering along the northern horizon.
Have Lord Blood report to me at once. Didn't Lord Radas know where his subcommander, his brother cloak, was?
A round back rolled out of the water and vanished so quickly he wasn't sure if he'd truly seen it. A rainbow of colors skimmed the surface where light glittered. A water bird — not one he recognized — floated past the lean-to, preening viciously at its feathers like a dog with the mange. Odd that it ignored them, for surely folk in this part of the world hunted fowl just as they did everywhere else. Instead, it labored at its brilliant plumage, then lifted its beak as though struggling to swallow.
The hells. Either the defenders left in haste, or they were cursed stupid.
Or it was a trap.
He ran a hand through the water. It was strangely slimy to the touch. He sniffed a finger, licked it.
Oil.
'The hells!' His words startled his aides. 'Call a full retreat. Get everyone off that island and form into marching order. We're moving back. Now.'