The grand military parade lost a good deal of its grandeur before it got very far from the walls of Karanopolis. The Emperor exchanged his horse for a carriage draped in purple and silver. The dust rose in clouds from unpaved roads churned up by thousands of hooves and booted feet and iron-tired cart wheels. It clogged throats, stung eyes, and dulled the polish on armor, weapons, and leather. Blade emptied his water bottle twice, trying to clear his throat, then gave up trying.
That night Blade lay in his tent, Tera curled close against him, her hair flowing across his chest, one arm around her. Outside in the darkness he heard the sound of women and servants quarreling, drunken laughter, the squealing of stolen pigs and the clucking of stolen chickens. Apparently the Guardians thought they were doing a favor to every farmer whose stock they looted and every merchant whose daughters they raped.
«I'm not sure those bastards know what side they're on,» said Blade sourly. «And I'm sure I wish I didn't have them on mine.»
«They can fight,» said Tera gently. «After all, if they couldn't, would either of us be here now?» There was no trace of bitterness in her voice, but it was still rare for her to make any reference to their capture.
«You are right, of course,» said Blade, laughing. «But indeed I almost wish that they would forget how to fight, this time. That way few people will die, Jores VII will still get the glory of having led his troops into battle, and nobody will be much worse off for all the sound and fury.»
«You almost make me believe you think that,» said Tera.
«I wish I really could,» said Blade. «But there is no way that I can be happy when I think of how badly the Guardians may fight. If they fight badly enough, we may both die.» It would be the final disgrace for his luck to run out in this blasted Dimension!
But there was Tera in «this blasted Dimension.» Blade drew her close against him, and felt not only desire but warm affection rise within him as her lips nuzzled at his throat.
The army took more than a month to march from Karanopolis to the Pass of Scador. Galleys and barges on the river brought supplies as far upstream as they could go. All the ships and boats of Karan put together could not have carried the army itself.
Sergeant Zogades left Blade in no doubt about what he thought of the strategy of the coming campaign.
«If we'd set out three months ago with an army a third this big, we'd have done more good.» He made a sweeping gesture with one scarred, hairy arm that took in the whole army, Guardians, infantry, camp followers and all. «This whole lot is going to get up through the pass about the time the weather starts turning cold. We'll lose horses and men from the weather even if we don't see a single enemy. Then we'll start running into their ambushes, and we'll be running back through the pass with our asses smarting in a week or two.»
«Won't the mountain tribes give warning of any Scadori ambushes?» asked Blade.
Zogades spat into the dust. «That for the mountain tribes. We frightened and bribed them into warning us about the Scadori raid where you were-uh, the last Scadori raid. The Scadori didn't know it, either. But I'm good and damned sure they know now. Any of the mountain tribes they've got their hands on are going to be too dead to help us. The others are going to be too damned scared. I think we're going to be on our own up on the plateau, and I don't like it.»
Zogades was one of the few Guardians who had once been an infantryman, so he was one of the few who had seen real fighting. Officers as high as the commanders of Regiments were supposed to have asked for the old sergeant's advice.
So they marched on, and at the end of the month they reached the Pass of Scador.
The army that reached the pass was not quite as impressive as the army that set out from Karanopolis. Desertions, brawls, and camp diseases had taken their toll. Tera made quite a reputation for herself among the camp women, skillfully and tenderly nursing a good many of them through fevers.
But the horses were still sleek from lush grazing, weapons were sharp, armor was dusty but sound. The army was ready, and the Guardians were positively eager to cross the pass.
Zogades had things to say about that eagerness. «I've always thought most of them were a bunch of damned gilded fools. Now I know. Doesn't one of them know a single thing about war?»
Blade shrugged. «I'm beginning to wonder myself.»
Zogades sighed. «Oh well, as long as they send up the infantry too there'll be a few people up there who know something.»
The next day the word came down that the Guardians were to march through the pass and carry out the raid into Scador without the infantry. The Emperor himself would lead them.
Zogades was speechless for a while. Then all he could do was curse. He cursed all the officers of the Guardians, he cursed all the nobles of Karan, he cursed the Emperor. His face turned red under its tan and the graying fringe of hair on his almost bald head stood out in all directions like the quills of a porcupine.
After he ran out of curses, all he could say was, «I wonder what gold-armored clown thought this one up?»
Five days after the army arrived at the pass, the Guardians formed up for their march onto the plateau. Scouts reported no sign of the mountain tribes, but no sign of any Scadori either.
Blade was on his horse and Tera was in her wagon the morning the Emperor rode out in front of his Guardians, his bodyguard around him. He kept his speech mercifully short.
«Now is the moment when Our Guardians of the Coral Throne will smite the barbarians of Scador. Now is the moment when the barbarians will die or flee in terror, for they shall not stand against us. Now is the moment when the menace of the Scadori shall forever be lifted from Our loyal subjects.»
«Now is the moment when Jores is going to say he is too sick in the gut to come with us,» muttered Zogades. Anything else he said was drowned out by the blare of the trumpets and the thunder of the drums as the Guardians moved out.