‘What are you going to do about it?’
‘First, I’m going to prove that this place is completely empty.’
‘And then?’
The rest of the raiding party had joined them on the apron. Jeral motioned the soldiers to move around the temple building.
‘Then I’m going to report as much to either Killith or Pindock, whichever dimwit looks the least pathetic at the time.’
Jeral and Hynd walked beneath the dome of Aryndeneth and relaxed in the calming cool, which was augmented by the sound of running water. The two men stared at the statue.
‘Wow,’ said Hynd. ‘That’s a true work of art. No wonder Loreb wants to live here, the whole place just
feels
beautiful.’
‘Yeah, well, he’ll live here over my rotting corpse,’ said Jeral. ‘At the very least, I reckon I can start our generals bickering over who gets this place.’
Hynd was frowning. ‘Why would they abandon it?’ he asked. ‘Isn’t this supposed to be their most sacred place?’
Jeral slapped him on the back. ‘Ah ha, now you’re starting to think. Why do you think we need to report?’
Hynd shrugged.
‘Hynd, you never studied.’
‘Not boring military crap, no.’
‘Then let me enlighten you. As we explore we will find that this place has been left neat and tidy, telling us that they didn’t run away in a panic when they heard we were coming. That’s because they knew we were coming in good time, or that they guessed we would come.
‘That tells me they are thinking clearly and will have taken any strength in magic or arms away with them, to wherever they think they can best use it against us.’
‘You think they know where we’re going?’
Jeral laughed. ‘God on the bonfire, Hynd, they’ve
always
known. What worries me is that they know the route we’ll be taking too. Last thing we need is to walk into a carefully planned ambush, don’t you think?’
Jeral walked around the pool and headed off into the depths of the temple. After a few moments, Hynd trotted after him.
‘Don’t we already expect an ambush? I saw the way the army was forming up to move.’
‘Yes, brilliantly done,’ said Jeral. ‘Really slow, ponderous, heavily protected marching formation ensuring the maximum time for the enemy to set up whatever ambushes they want, wherever they want. Loreb has prepared the column for an attack at any time and he’s telling any Sharp who cares to look exactly how the defences will work.
‘As usual, he’s missed the blindingly obvious: to beat this enemy, we have to have proper reactive tactics, something to surprise them, or they’ll hit and run the way they have every other time.’
‘I don’t understand. How does arriving here tell you that?’
‘It doesn’t. It confirms what I already thought,’ said Jeral. He stopped to look at Hynd’s blank face and shook his head. ‘My dear mage, ever since we embarked on this fool’s mission, the elves have out-thought us at every step, despite there being so few of them. This empty temple is just another example of that.
‘We should worry that the Sharps know where we’re going and how far away it is, while we have no clue how much further we have to march. Nor do we know the forest, and so we amble blindly into the shadows without knowing when or where we will emerge. Our wonderful leaders cling to the belief that all the elves are falling back to Katura and will wait there for us to come and slaughter them.
‘They will not. We have to force them back to the city by beating them in the field. And we will only do that by out-thinking them. They’ve moved their magic from Aryndeneth, Hynd. Where to? Where will their next attack come? Will it be magical or just those fucking TaiGethen or more of those elf-cat things?’
The two of them walked out into the light and the village behind the temple, and Jeral knew he was right. The village was closed and tidy. The evacuation had been planned and executed perfectly.
‘But surely that is why we have to march as we currently do? Defensively.’
‘No! We should work out all their potential attack styles and have plans to combat them. Then we need to march as fast as we can because every day spent in this accursed place claims more lives, stamina and morale. And now food is running short too, isn’t it? As we are, we’ll be so weakened by the time we reach Katura, we might not even beat the little bastards.’
Jeral stared at Hynd and saw the light beginning to dawn.
‘Well we’d better get back quickly, hadn’t we?’ Hynd said.
‘Why?’
‘Because they’re about to leave the river and head inland.’
‘So they are,’ said Jeral. ‘Into the maw of the beast.’
Hynd walked with Jeral as he crossed the outer pickets. The army had stopped for the day and was camping along a minor tributary from which dozens of glorious fish were being pulled, having been stunned by a sound-wave casting. Fires were already burning and the smells of cooking were, for a change, not tainted by suspicion.
‘Still angry?’ he asked.
‘Still alive?’ said Jeral.
‘I urge caution,’ said Hynd.
Jeral shrugged. He’d been thinking about what he’d say all the way back. Caution wasn’t the primary feature of his planned conversation.
‘Why?’
‘Well, there’s good news and there’s bad news. The good news is that the generals are all in one place discussing tactics. Lockesh is with them too. The bad news is that they anticipate an encounter tomorrow and I don’t think they’ll much care about Aryndeneth right now. Maybe you should keep your counsel until we camp tomorrow night.’
‘Actually this sounds like the perfect opportunity. In fact keeping quiet now might cost us more lives, especially if we don’t change our tactics.’
‘And you know what the right tactics are, I suppose,’ said Hynd.
Jeral felt his anger flare up. ‘Well I tell you something, those idiots certainly don’t. What’s your problem? I’m not making you come with me.’
Hynd’s shoulders sagged. ‘It ought to be obvious. We’re friends, or I like to think we are, and I’ve watched you wind yourself up to a spitting fury ever since we left Aryndeneth. I’m with you, our generals are mismanaging this whole army, but getting yourself strung up on an insubordination charge isn’t going to help our cause, is it?’
‘Sorry, Mother, I’ll promise to try to stay calm.’
Hynd sighed. ‘It’ll have to do, I suppose.’
‘So it will.’ Jeral felt his tension ease just a little. ‘Look, I hear you, all right? But I need
them
to hear
me
.’
‘Well, Loreb apart, I think you have a certain standing among the rank and file tacticians.’
Jeral raised an eyebrow. ‘Is that a compliment?’
‘Nearly.’
‘Right.’ Jeral looked about him. The rest of Dead Company was waiting for his word, every one of them angry, feeling isolated, betrayed and looking to him to improve their lot. ‘Let’s make this easy on ourselves. You lot, no violence but don’t let anyone stop me joining the meeting either, all right?’
Jeral led his men along the outer picket line, not wishing to draw unwanted attention to themselves. The meeting was being held right in the centre of the camp, inside a tent erected for the purpose. It was ringed with soldiers and mages, most drawn from Pindock’s personal company nicknamed the Yellow Guard. Aides were clustered outside the entrance and a table had been erected for some purpose that escaped Jeral.
Jeral motioned his men to back away and spread out while he strode ahead with Hynd at his shoulder. One of Killith’s aides nudged Ishtak and Jeral gave him a broad smile. Ishtak’s expression was less than welcoming. Jeral saw his lips move and his whole body tense.
‘Pleased to see me, Ishtak?’ said Jeral, finding the aide’s evident discomfort extremely gratifying. ‘Or just disappointed to see I’m still breathing?’
‘That rather depends. What do you want?’
‘Well, as you can see, we are surprisingly well given our latest mission. And as you know, to complete the mission I am required to deliver my report to my commanding officer. So, here I am. Show me in.’
Ishtak’s smile was thin to the point of vanishing. ‘I don’t think so, Captain. General Loreb is meeting the army leaders to prepare our tactics for the advance tomorrow. This is not the sort of company into which I am prepared to introduce you.’
‘My dear Ishtak – glad to see that bruise on your chin fading by the way – I have information which is vital to that discussion. I must have audience.’
Another aide leaned in and whispered in Ishtak’s ear. Ishtak nodded and an oily smile spread across his face. He moved aside.
‘Then please, Captain, do go in. The generals and principal mage will be delighted to hear more words of wisdom from the man who oversaw the poisoning of his own company.’
Jeral let his shoulder collide, hard, with Ishtak on his way into the pavilion. Inside, the smell of pipe smoke was nauseating. The generals were seated on a crude arrangement of fallen logs, a hastily drawn map on the ground in front of them. Both Pindock and Lockesh were puffing away on pipes stuffed with the most revolting of elven tobacco. Lockesh appeared bored to the point of distraction while Pindock was as nervous as Jeral would have expected.
Of Loreb and Killith he could see little. Both had their backs to him. He cleared his throat.
‘My generals and honoured Lord Mage, please forgive my intrusion.’
Loreb spat out whatever spirit he had been knocking back and jerked so violently Jeral thought he might slip from his log. He managed to regain his balance and turned, standing as he did.
‘I’ll forgive you nothing,’ he said. ‘Get out.’
‘No. Sir.’ Every head turned to watch him. ‘With respect, each of you needs to hear what I have learned. I have information that will save lives.’
‘Always so dramatic, Captain Jeral,’ said Pindock. ‘What do you say, Killith, shall we hear him?’
‘Never mind Killith,’ snapped Loreb. ‘Captain Jeral, you will excuse yourself or you will be escorted out under guard and brought up on charges.’
‘I’m sick of your posturing, you pissed old oaf,’ Jeral muttered under his breath.
‘I beg your pardon?’ demanded Loreb.
‘I’m so sorry. Let me repeat myself more clearly.’
‘Jeral!’ said Hynd.
‘Out!’ shouted Loreb.
‘No,’ said Jeral. ‘Sir.’
Loreb roared for the guards. Killith was shouting something incoherent and Pindock had already retreated across the pavilion. Then Lockesh spoke, his voice reaching into every mind and prompting mouths already open with accusations to slam shut.
‘Hynd,’ said Lockesh. ‘Saddling yourself with this troublemaker. Why?’
‘Because I believe he must be heard,’ said Hynd.
Jeral nodded his gratitude to Hynd. Lockesh was a tall man with heavy features and a powerful frame that would have served him well as a warrior. He stood. The generals seemed to shrivel in response. Jeral was pretty sure he’d cast some kind of spell to achieve that effect but it was hard to tell. He was a particularly skilled mage.
‘Then he shall be heard.’ Lockesh’s eyes fixed on Hynd. ‘And he had better have something civil and pertinent to say, or you will both pay for this interruption.’
‘No pressure, Captain,’ whispered Hynd.
Jeral shrugged. ‘Aryndeneth was empty, General Loreb. The Sharps had gone long before we got there.’
‘No doubt running scared,’ said Killith. ‘And well they should.’
‘No, sir,’ said Jeral. ‘They knew we would mount an attack on their temple and they withdrew. They know what we’re going to do long before we do it. We are being out-thought. I know how we can change, how we can take the fight to them before we get to Katura. If we don’t, I fear for us. I fear we won’t make it to our prize at all, let alone reach it with the strength to take it.’
Guards had entered the pavilion but Lockesh waved them back outside. The trio of generals regarded Jeral, unsure what to say. Lockesh cleared his throat.
‘You have evidence?’
Jeral felt chilled by his words, as if they were working their way into his heart and cooling his blood.
‘Witness every attack they have staged so far. They strike and run. And we just stand there watching our comrades die. Our only, small success was in the first attack on the forward patrol and camp builders, and that was only won by chance. Since then we have not hurt a hair on any of their heads. Hynd tells me you are expecting an encounter tomorrow and that our route is a narrow one.’
‘Yes,’ said Killith. ‘We expect an ambush.’
‘Respectfully, sir, what counter tactics are in place or are for discussion?’
‘We have agreed that our current formation is our strongest defence. It is designed to fend off an ambush,’ said Killith.
‘You just don’t get it, do you?’ said Jeral.
‘I’ve heard enough of this!’ said Loreb. ‘I want this man out of here and stripped of his rank.’
‘Do you want to hear how we can survive?’ asked Jeral, looking at Pindock before turning his gaze on Loreb. ‘Or would you rather hear why I was sent to Aryndeneth?’
Loreb actually growled and, for the first time since Jeral had known him, looked dangerous – until he drank from the bottle still clutched in his right hand rather than smashing it across Jeral’s head.