Haven: A Trial of Blood and Steel Book Four (21 page)

Before she knew what she was doing, she spurred her horse toward the steps and carved stone columns, as Jaryd yelled at her to stop. She dismounted at the foot of the steps and ran up, fire now blistering the golden filigree inlays of the great wall panels beside the doors.

There was much wood used inside the main hall, with floorboards and wall panels, and lovely old furnishings. Sofy covered her mouth and squinted through the smoke as she ran, hoping only that what remained of the musical wonders had been shifted, and that some of her favourite masters had had the sense to leave before the Elissians had come.

She pushed through the doors of the grand chamber where she had heard a wonderful recital just two days before. The panelled walls about the central stage were aflame, stacked with furnishings and soaked with what she suspected from the acrid smell was oil. Black smoke gathered at the ceiling, now beginning to hide the chandelier, and burning shavings and cinders were falling about like rain.

Upon the stage sat three old men, instruments in hand. They played now, a sweet sound that rose to challenge the crackling of the flames. Burning embers fell about them, and the heat flared hotter still, yet the men played on, oblivious to all but the soaring emotion of their tune, their faces entranced with that wonder alone.

Sofy wanted to scream at them to run, to grab them from the stage and haul them bodily out the doors and into the safety of the courtyard. Yet this terrifying, mesmerising scene was the first thing she'd seen all day that made sense to her. Standing helplessly, tears flowed down her cheeks that had nothing to do with the smoke.

Jaryd burst into the room behind her. He too stopped and stared at the scene. The tune reached a crescendo, and the musicians all beamed in ecstasy. Above, the flaming ceiling groaned ominously.

“Sofy, we have to go!”

She turned and ran, grasping Jaryd's hand. As they reemerged into the courtyard, several floors of the building gave way behind, an eruption of blazing debris that burst forth from the windows and doors. A billion sparks rose skyward, glorious like the last note of a song, rising up to heaven.

E
rrollyn sat on his horse and watched the Kazeri come. The wild plains horsemen were skirting the hills to the north, as Kessligh had said they would. Kazeri moved in a large, singular force, and relied upon speed and surprise. Thanks to
talmaad
scouts, they'd lost the latter. Now they'd selected the most open path across fields and foothills to close upon the rear of the retreating armies of Rhodaan, Enora, and Lenayin.

Were it not for the cavalry, it would have been trouble. Yet now confronting the Kazeri were thousands of
talmaad
, and thousands more Rhodaani, Enoran, and Lenay horsemen. The foot soldiers continued their march toward Jahnd. Kessligh had been unwilling to countenance an extended delay to face the Kazeri whilst the Army of the Bacosh resumed its pursuit from the north. The cavalry would hold back the Kazeri and hope that they could stop them here. If not, the footsoldiers would be next, forming hasty lines of defence upon whatever terrain was available. It reduced the Steel's defensive strengths greatly. Errollyn hoped it would not come to that.

He held his bow in hand, resting lengthwise on his saddle horn. Across this field, all were serrin. Behind, by several hundreds of paces, were human cavalry. He had been discussing this formation with fellow cavalrymen now for weeks—first with immediate comrades and then with Kessligh, once his ideas had fully formed. Kessligh had liked it. Now came the actual test of battle.

The Kazeri broke into a full charge, a roar of thousands of voices and even more hooves. Weapons glinted in summer sunshine, a thousand sparkles of sunlight on steel. The serrin said nothing. When the Kazeri reached a certain point on the field, they raised their bows, drew, and fired. Errollyn placed his first arrow very high, then drew quickly and fired a second on a lower angle. Then he yanked his reins and galloped away from the charging Kazeri.

The Kazeri yelled in triumph to see their foe running away. The first wave of arrows spattered across their forward rank, some falling from height, others coming low and flat, both flights arriving simultaneously. Horses and riders fell, others swerving to avoid sudden obstacles, yet their opponents were fleeing, and Kazeri warriors would not neglect to claim their prize.

Errollyn put a knee across his saddle horn in a well-practised move, placed another arrow to his string while holding himself barely off the saddle. All about him the serrin were galloping, riders firing back the way they'd come. Kazeri riders pursued in howling triumph, dying and crashing to the turf in scores, yet coming no closer.

A paddock wall emerged precisely where Errollyn had measured it when placing their formation. He took the jump, then fired twice more. All across the Kazeri front, racing horsemen were falling. Another arrow, and most of the front rank were dead, fallen, or reining up in consternation, trying to dodge and colliding with their comrades.

Now he saw the line of human cavalry before him, divided with gaps in their ranks. These were Valhanan men of Lenayin, and as the retreating serrin poured through the gaps in their line, the Valhanans roared and charged. Errollyn wheeled his horse about, and placed another two arrows over the galloping Valhanan's heads, into the faltering front rank of Kazeri. Then he stood in the saddle and held out his arm to indicate the line the other
talmaad
should assume. As they dressed their line, he watched.

All along the advancing front, Lenay, Rhodaani and Enoran cavalry ploughed into the Kazeri front. Their charge faltered; all momentum lay with the countercharge. Before him, the Valhanans spurred their horses amidst the confusion of Kazeri, some Lenay townsmen on taller horses, others on wiry dussieh. They hit Kazeri riders from high and low, and seemed to have the better of most exchanges. But more Kazeri were pouring in from the rear ranks, the huge column spreading wide as it found this route blocked. Very soon, Errollyn knew he'd be outflanked.

He gave his signal, and a serrin trumpeter blew the retreat. With astonishing discipline for hot-blooded Lenays—who hated to retreat—the Val-hanans disengaged and came racing back toward the serrin. Those Kazeri who chased without support simply melted in a storm of serrin arrows. Errollyn saw a group of nearly thirty riders felled in several heartbeats, like a dandelion collapsing in a hailstorm. The main force regrouped, then yells and horn blasts cut the air once more, and they resumed their charge. Again the first rank met a swarm of arrows, and again the serrin turned tail and galloped in the other direction. It was not a retreat, and now the Kazeri were beginning to realise it. It was a moving wall of accurate archery, holding itself at precisely the correct killing range from its opponent. This stretch of fields was well chosen. If the Kazeri kept chasing until the next line of forest, half of them would be dead on the grass before they reached it.

As Kazeri further back in the formation swung towards the hills on Errollyn's southernside, he realised he was being outflanked to the north; they were trying to pin his force against those hills. Errollyn did not think that particularly smart either—if they forced him to take the high ground, he would not mind at all. Besides which, the high ground held other surprises.

Again the Kazeri paused in their pursuit. Again trumpets sounded, and the rear rank of human cavalry wheeled and galloped back through the serrin line. They hammered into the Kazeri line a second time, and held them. It was within two hundred paces of the spot Kessligh had told him to expect this second engagement. Well within the parameters of their plan, and he did not even need to give the second signal.

From the trees on the leftward slope erupted a line of human cavalry—some Rhodaani and Enoran heavy horse with a forest of steel-tipped lances, and upon the far flank, to block Kazeri retreat, the one group of Lenay riders missing from the action so far: Isfayen men, plunging downhill with black hair flying, screaming like madmen as they came.

The Kazeri flank disappeared, riders impaled by lances or knocked flying by heavier Rhodaani or Enoran horses. Once into the main body and surrounded by enemy, Rhodaanis and Enorans dropped lances, pulled swords, and began swinging. Errollyn could not see the Isfayen now, they were too far back. But already he could see the Kazeri folding, as horsemen turned and galloped in panic.

He indicated to head north, away from the hills, and some serrin followed, others riding up close behind the heavily engaged human cavalry to shoot available targets from their horses, or merely to loose arrows into the middle of Kazeri ranks. Errollyn broke into a gallop, amidst many hundreds of other serrin also racing this way. Ahead was trouble: Kazeri had indeed come around the far flank, and Enoran men here were fighting a desperate defence to hold them away from their comrades’ rear.

Again the
talmaad
raced in, holding ground and shooting one Kazeri after another where that suited, or darting in close where the fighting was more desperate, abandoning bows for swords at close quarters. Errollyn put an arrow through one Kazeri who was locked in battle with an Enoran, then made a fast right turn to evade two more who came at him in pursuit. One of those fell to an anonymous arrow, and he pulled the blade from over his shoulder, and yanked on the rein to dart behind the second Kazeri rider, who reined up so fast his horse slipped and fell.

Errollyn abandoned him for someone else to deal with, sheathing his sword for the bow once more as immediate targets rapidly became fewer. He realised that the heaviest engagement was moving further away, and spurred after it. One Kazeri target presented himself, but fell to an arrow before he could fire. More made a spirited attack upon a group of Enoran cavalry, but the Enorans were superior, and simply cut them from their mounts with heavy blows and clever horsemanship. The rest, Errollyn realised, were running away. Men were cheering, waving swords in the air in victory. Another man, an officer, interrupted some of those celebrations by standing in his stirrups and yelling.

“Don't cheer! Chase them and kill them! Kill
all
of them!”

That would be unlikely, Errollyn knew. But men stopped cheering and galloped in pursuit, to try their best to do just that. No one knew why the Kazeri had attacked Enora, save for the predictable guesses of alliances with the new Bacosh Regent. They only knew, by long experience, that the best deterrent from such aggression was to make each episode as painful as possible for the attackers. Few captured Kazeri would see mercy here today.

If he chased hard, possibly he could spend his few remaining arrows on retreating Kazeri backs and bring down several more. Instead, he stopped, and allowed his horse to walk at leisure back across the pasture toward what had been the middle of the fight. He rode past bodies of the dead and dying, looking for surviving wounded from his side to help, and wondering on Sasha's Goeren-yai beliefs. Did she think that the souls of the men he'd killed would return to haunt him? Would they stand in judgement of his own soul when he died? Errollyn looked now across the carpet of dead and shrieking wounded, and missed her more than ever.

Most of the fallen were Kazeri. He dismounted to help stanch the bleeding of a wounded Enoran, then handed him to others as help arrived. Other friendly wounded were being collected, and the dead marked with a sword or lance point down in the turf, for rapid burial. They could not hold here long; the foot soldiers were now more than a day's march away, and the combined armies were split. The Kazeri had been taught their lesson, but could not be pursued. The Regent's army had massive cavalry too, and could race ahead of their own foot soldiers if they chose.

Errollyn found Andreyis ahorse amidst the confusion, and saluted him. Andreyis saluted back with a grin, and galloped to his side. His arm had healed enough for a fight, and now he looked the proper Valhanan cavalryman with mail and a shield—he'd fought on foot to this point for lack of a horse, but Errollyn had thought it daft for a cavalryman of his standard, and found him a spare.

“So much for the rampaging Kazeri hordes,” Andreyis remarked, looking over the carnage and saluting several other Valhanans.

“Fucking fools,” said Errollyn. “I hope their commander survives. If we've killed him, they might put someone in charge who knows what he's doing.”

“How do Kazeri find new leaders anyhow?”

“No idea. It's tragic. I'd always thought the Kazeri an interesting people, but I'd never actually met any before today. To think that some fucking tribe leader should lead them to this in the name of alliance with the Regent…”

“We should take prisoners and learn something about them,” said Andreyis.

“You can do that if you like.” Errollyn found it too depressing to contemplate.

“I will.” Andreyis looked quite certain. Errollyn wondered what he was up to. “To know oneself is to know one's enemy. Surely the opposite also applies.”

Errollyn blinked, realising that Andreyis had spoken that last in Saalsi. “I didn't know you spoke the tongue,” he said in kind.

Andreyis shrugged. “Kessligh and Sasha were always speaking it, I learned some. I was never as good as Sasha, though. I was embarrassed to speak it with her, my accent is terrible.”

“No, it's not,” said Errollyn, and meant it. A serrin rider approached at a gallop, bow in hand, and reined to Andreyis's side. It was a girl, with wild red hair. Errollyn recalled her name, Yshel. She looked delighted to see Andreyis, and he her. They embraced. Ah, thought Errollyn. “You two, talk to some prisoners. Find out more about the Kazeri, why they're here, who's in charge, what the Regent promised them. If you need translators, ask around, there's bound to be serrin who speak Kazeri.”

Andreyis and Yshel nodded, and Errollyn trotted on up the slope toward where he could see command banners forming. Partway up the hill, he found Kessligh, Damon and other commanders gathered by some banners. Kessligh saluted him grimly.

“It is against all natural laws,” Kessligh stated, “for a cavalry engagement to unfold that closely to the original plan. We have been lucky, but the luck was planned.”

“The formations work well,” Errollyn replied, unstringing his bow to save the wood. “Luck can't be made, but it can be channelled.”

The alternate formations of serrin and human cavalry had been his idea. Human cavalry was more suited to close contact, while serrin were superior at range. It had made sense to combine the two in a manner that negated each weakness with the other's strength. Actually making it work had been Damon's influence, him knowing far more about the fixed formations and principles of human cavalry than any serrin's more fluid notion.

Manoeuvring the army into this position in the first place, choosing the ground, and luring the Kazeri to follow them in, had been all Kessligh's doing. The man read landscapes the way Aisha read foreign tongues—with an almost unnatural and spine-chilling fluency. Kessligh gazed across his chosen fields now, eyes narrowed. “I think we got over a quarter of them,” he said matter-of-factly. “That was damn near thirty thousand total, though, so there's at least twenty thousand left, probably more.”