When Dragons Rage

57

Even before setting out for Nawal, Alexia had seen signs that her strategy was having an effect on the Aurolani forces. Crown Prince Bowmar and his core of two heavy cavalry battalions had hurried north on the Porjal road and set up in the hill country. As expected, they skirmished with the Aurolani lead element, which withdrew and waited for the bulk of the army to come up. When the Aurolani general—identified by arcanslata as a sullanciri—entered the field of battle, the Murosan cavalry withdrew to a new line of hills, with the infantry to back them up.

The Aurolani made several attempts to bring their dragonels up, but this was a tricky proposition. If they came too near to the cavalry formation, a quick charge by the Murosan warriors could kill the crews and destroy the weapons. To protect them, the Aurolani leader only advanced them with sufficient infantry cover, and the cavalry before that. When the cavalry pulled back for the final time, they withdrew to hills where the infantry—aided by magick to unfreeze the ground—had dug in. There the dragonels would be shooting uphill against targets behind cover.

The Aurolani did have skycasters—short, squat dragonels that launched a ball filled with firedirt that exploded over its target. Will had dubbed the missiles thunderballs and they burst into a lethal spray of shrapnel. While they would be able to deliver their thunderballs on target, they had to be positioned relatively close to the hill they were going to be shooting at.

The Murosan hill positions were by no means invulnerable. Positions like that had been overrun from time immemorial. With enough warriors moving fast enough, a enemy could overwhelm the defenders and sweep over them. The cost would be frightening, but it was the only way to dislodge them.

Not the only way, Alexia reminded herself. A single dragon could sweep over the line of hills and burn the defenders alive. Alyx had seen firsthand the destructive capability of a dragon’s fury. The city of Porasena in eastern Alcida had ceased to exist in less than five minutes.

Predictably, the Aurolani commander detached a part of his force to swing west through a gap in the hills to try to get around behind the Murosan position. Chances were that the two battalions of light cavalry would be insufficient to stop a full retreat, but they could slow it enough that the main force could come up. At the very least, the Aurolani light cavalry would be able to stop any supplies from getting through to the force astride the road, weakening that position.

The light cavalry rode under the banner of four crushed skulls, one each of white, red, blue, and green. Gibberers and vylaens mostly, with a few renegade men, the six hundred rode out under cover of darkness as if heading back toward Porjal, then came around the hills and moved swiftly west. With the night sky clouded and the moon no more than a sliver, the chances of their being seen by the Murosan defenders were minimal.

Alexia, on the other hand, had the benefit of a Gyrkyme scout who would be invisible in the night sky, but had sharp enough vision to return with a complete count of the force that was executing the flanking maneuver. The Aurolani detour would only be ten miles, which they could make easily in the night and arrive the next morning already set up behind the Murosan lines.

While that strategy was sound, it was based on misleading information. At the Murosan position were displayed all manner of unit banners, including those of the King’s Heavy Cavalry regiment; a famed unit that actually was under Alexia’s command. Yet while the King’s Heavy Cavalry was in the hills, it wasn’t in those hills.

It was, in fact, massed in the forested hills above the valley through which the Aurolani rode. The valley itself had been carved out by centuries of spring floods, so that, while narrow, it had a flat bottom through which a small stream ran. The stream had been completely covered by snow, and the snow, which was not deep, had frozen hard. The Aurolani, moving swiftly through the night, had no inkling of the disaster about to befall them.

Their first warning came when the Heavy Cavalry’s First Battalion charged out of the forest to the north. The three hundred heavy cavalrymen came riding fast out of the tree line. They actually were heading for the last part of the Aurolani line, having waited until the rear guard passed them before they launched their strike. They started from five hundred yards away and came on at a full gallop; they would be nearing the end of their effective charge when they reached the frostclaws.

The Aurolani clearly knew the limitations of heavy cavalry. As the rear element shot forward, lengthening that range, the forward elements split north and south, to curl around and slash at cavalry flanks. The Aurolani outnumbered the Murosans two to one and should have had an easy time tearing them up.

The Aurolani had opted for the first of three possible reactions to this ambush, and Alyx had positioned her troops to take advantage of any scenario. In this one, the Second and Third Battalions attacked from the north and south respectively, hitting the Aurolani units in their rear flank.

While frostclaws were fearsome fighters, they didn’t outmass by much a warhorse encased in armor. Their broken bodies whirling and feathers flying, crushed frostclaws squawked and gurgled as the cavalry pounded into them. Lances skewered gibberers, lifting them wriggling from saddles. Screams and shouts, shrieks and whimpers fought to be heard over the clang of metal and the crisp snap of bone and lance.

The rearmost element of the Aurolani, seeing what had befallen their comrades, raced forward, outdistancing the ambushing force. Alyx could imagine them believing they had escaped their doom. They pushed on west toward where the valley began to narrow again, doubtless intent on slipping into the forest to loop around and report back to their leaders.

The King’s Heavy Cavalry had a fourth battalion. It waited for them, having been positioned there to stop the whole force had all the Aurolani decided to bolt. Alyx had left Sayce in command of that unit, and the young Murosan Princess waited until almost too late to launch her charge. The Fourth poured out of the woods and bore down on the Aurolani, smashing through them. The lead lancers blasted a furrow through the center of their formation, and the swordsmen behind them shredded what was left.

Sayce rode over to where Alexia, on the ground amid the Third Battalion, was cutting the four-skull banner from the broken standard. “They are all dead, Alexia.”

“How many of ours are hurt?”

Sayce glanced back into the gloom. “Four dead; a lot of cuts and gashes, mostly from frostclaws. I have a dozen horses that probably won’t make it.”

“Get the worst of your injured up to Kerrigan, tet him fix them up enough so they can ride. Then I need you to pick four of your best riders and send them to your brother. Tell him what happened here.”

Sayce cocked her head. “But we have arcanslata to send that message.”

Alexia slid her dagger back into the sheath in her boot before straightening up. “And it is just possible that Chytrine has come up with some manner of detecting the location of arcanslata in use. I would like to avoid having our position spotted needlessly.”

“I hadn’t thought of that.”

Alexia nodded. She had not given it overmuch thought herself until she’d made the mistake of asking Kerrigan what was occupying his time on the ride north. He’d explained how he was working on a class of detection spell that was unlike any other and how it would be able to figure out where anything was, like a fragment of the DragonCrown or any other magickal item. He noted, for example, that using her wedding ring, he could pinpoint Crow’s location. At least, he thought he could. She then asked about finding arcans-lata.

Kerrigan had smiled and rolled his eyes. “Possible, but only when they are in use. They’re not very magickal otherwise. This spell will be for important things.”

Alexia had not taken the time yet to explain to him how important arcanslata could be, but she assumed that anything Kerrigan could do, Chytrine could do, too. That assumption might have invested too much power in the Aurolani Empress, but Alyx would rather overestimate an enemy than not.

A soldier came up bearing the severed head of the Aurolani leader. Alexia gave him the banner and the man gleefully wrapped the head in it, then secured it with some leather bindings into a nice, tight little package. “All set to go, Highness.”

“Thank you.”

Perrine descended and folded her wings. “As nearly as I can see, sister, no one escaped. There are a few frostclaws about, but we can hunt them down in daylight.”

“Thanks, Peri.” Alexia pointed to the package the soldier was holding. “If you wouldn’t mind, could you deliver that to the Aurolani commander?”

“With your regards?”

Alyx looked at her smiling sister and shook her head. “I don’t want you that close to them.”

Peri accepted the bundle, then stepped back and spread her wings. “They’ll get your message, Alyx.”

“And I’ll await their reply.”

Isaura felt Anarus’ fury well before she ever heard the agonized wolf howl in which it was given voice. She slipped from the warm cocoon of skins in which she had slept and pulled on her clothes. She took her time dressing. She knew she would have to attend the sullanciri, but if she were the first to his side, he would focus his ire on her, and she wanted to avoid that.

Having delayed as long as possible, she wended her way through the labyrinthine passages in the command pavilion and reached the central room. Neskartu and Naelros had arrived before her. Of Tythsai she found no sign, but since the undead sullanciri neither saw with normal eyes nor had any need of sleep, she often spent the nights walking and watching.

On a table, lying on a wrinkled mass of sodden cloth, sat the head of a gibberer. Based on the designs painted in white on its face, Isaura took it to be a leader of some sort. Only when she looked more closely at the cloth and saw it had been a banner did she begin to understand the import of the head’s presence.

Neskartu’s face flowed around to glance at her.

Delivered by Gyrkyme—Alexia’s pet. The flanking strike failed.

Isaura looked over at Naelros. He had suggested a stronger force to make that maneuver, but Anarus had opted for speed. Anarus, it struck Isaura, became hasty as the moon waned, and seemed more possessed of himself as it grew to full.

The dracomorph acknowledged her glance with a nod, but remained silent.

The wolfish sullanciri paced angrily. As he turned, he would look at the bloody head and snap at it. Half the time he would curse, the rest growl. His eyes blazed with an evil light, and snarls bared fangs with menacing regularity. Anger and outrage radiated off him like heat from molten rock.

Then his head came up and his ears flattened back. A long tongue came out and he licked his muzzle, then hunched his shoulders and gathered his clawed hands at the small of his back. “There are a number of things made clear now. First, the Murosans have learned well from the plight of the Sebcians. The only way to stop us from laying siege to their cities is to prevent us from getting at their cities. They do this by blocking the roads and confiscating our supplies. Soon enough, though, we will have more troops and supplies coming in through Porjal, so the troops they have out there now will be useless.”

Naelros nodded. “If you desired, Lord Anarus, I could take my people and hunt down their raiders.”

“No, no, that will not do.” Anarus growled, but not savagely. “Your troops are no more suited to hunting than mine are. I do have a task for you, though. You will take your regiment and two others, along with a dragonel battalion. You will drive at Nawal.”

Is it wise to split your force?

The snarl directed at Neskartu came quick and dire. “Question me not, wizard. That force will be sufficient to threaten Nawal. If our troops arrive to lay siege and no one comes to lift it, the people will lose heart and open the city to us. Without defenders, the dragonels will be enough to reduce the defenses to rubble. Our move will force King Bowmar to weaken the garrison opposing us here in order to defend Nawal, or he will lose that city.”

Isaura raised a hand. “My lord Anarus, the people of Muroso set great store in their wizards. Until the ones in Nawal are eliminated, the people will not surrender.“

“Of course, Princess; that is obvious.” The sullanciri pointed a crooked finger toward the distant Murosan position. “They have not erected any of their black posts there, so they resist our invitations to pit their wizards against ours. Lord Neskartu and his students are wasted here. I will send them to Nawal as well. You, Princess, may stay here or go, as you will.”

She will come with me. Her safety is my charge.

“Then see to it well, my friend.” Anarus turned and looked at the dracomorph. “You have questions?”

“How long do I have to take Nawal?”

The sullanciri‘s ears flipped this way and that as he thought. “Two weeks should be sufficient.”

“And have I enough firedirt and food to accomplish the task?”

“If you do not squander the first, and if you do not feast with the second, yes.” Anarus’ eyes narrowed. “You will be resupplied from Porjal, since it will be faster to reach Nawal than wherever I shall be. My supplies will still come from the north, when they get through.”

Naelros nodded. “And you will request more assistance from the empress?”

“Done, long since done.” A growl rolled from Anarus’ throat. “Come to me with news of Nawal’s conquest or do not come to me at all.”

Something ancient moved through Naelros’ dark eyes. Isaura did not know what it was, but it burned her senses. It had been equal parts anger and contempt, and yet more, woven in such a tight and complex pattern that she could only marvel at what little she comprehended. Naelros would obey the sullanciri—for now, at least—but what he did after he reported success, she could not predict.

Whatever that would be, Isaura was certain, it would not be as foolish as Anarus’ hastily snapped command.