Queen of Fire полностью

Leave her be! he shouts in her mind. Touch her and you’ll never lay eyes on me again. I swear it.

She resists the impulse to wallow in his rage and allows her heart to calm, trying to colour her response with cool detachment. The sooner you come to me the greater the chance of her survival.

She winces a little, feeling the reforged connection between them strain as he masters his anger. When he returns his thoughts are dark with reluctant acceptance. The Arisai, he presses. Where are they?

I can tell you where they are not. She finds she has to stifle a giggle. New Kethia.

• • •

“Idiots,” Draker said, watching the Volarian column with a practised eye. “They ain’t even scouting their flanks.”

“Why would they?” Frentis asked. “They’re expecting nothing more than a victory march when they reach Viratesk.”

“Just over four thousand,” Thirty-Four said, returning the spyglass to Frentis. “Only one battalion of Varitai and a scattering of Kuritai. The rest are a mix of Free Sword mercenaries and conscripts from New Kethia. By my calculation, the bulk of the military strength left in this province.”

“Idiots,” Draker repeated, shaking his head.

The country west of Viratesk was largely devoid of the heights and forests Frentis had always found so useful. However, Master Rensial’s scouting along the coastal road to New Kethia had identified a broad depression in the farmland six miles to the west, too shallow to be called a valley but the southern rise sufficiently high to conceal the bulk of their army. The height of the crops was another advantage, tall enough to hide their archers, and dry enough to catch fire at the first lick of flame. The cavalry at the head of the Volarian column had evidently failed to take account of the mile-long strip of barren ground scorched into the rise and running parallel to the road, a hundred yards wide and the product of a morning spent in careful burning. The many farmhands in the army advised that such firebreaks were a common feature of Volarian agriculture and unlikely to draw undue attention from those who had never worked the land.

“Some are bound to make it through,” Frentis told Illian and Draker. “If outnumbered, fall back and form a defensive circle.” He met Illian’s gaze, speaking with grave authority. “The issue will be decided on the flanks, so there is no need for excessive courage.”

He saw her suppress a sullen grimace and force a nod. “Of course, brother.”

He left them crouched amidst the tall corn-stalks and made his way to the lee of the rise where Master Rensial waited with their mounted contingent. The Volarians found little reason to educate slaves in riding but some knew horses from their previous lives, mostly Realm folk and a few Alpirans, enough to form a company of light cavalry some three hundred strong. Another thousand infantry were crouched a little farther back, mostly those lacking decent weapons, though some bore the swords and daggers taken from the fallen Arisai. The bulk of their infantry were with Lekran and Ivelda on the left flank, ready to charge in the Garisai’s wake when the time came.

Frentis mounted a stallion captured in the hill country, well trained like most Volarian cavalry horses, but lacking the speed and aggression of an Order mount. Still, Master Rensial had been diligent in training both riders and horses so he was confident the animal wouldn’t shy from the charge. He nudged his heels to the stallion’s flanks and trotted to the crest of the rise. The Volarians would be sure to see him outlined on the skyline but it was of little matter now their lead company had drawn level with the end of the firebreak. Frentis drew his sword and raised it above his head, the archers in the cornfield standing at the signal, bows drawn. He could see a rider at the head of the column wheeling his horse about, waving frantically at the bugler, all too late.

Over four hundred arrows rose from the cornfield and arced down into the centre of the Volarian column, raising a tumult of shouted alarm and discordant bugling. Apart from the initial chaos, however, the effect of the volley was minimal, claiming barely a dozen soldiers before their officers managed to whip them into reasonable order. As usual, the Varitai were first to form ranks, three battalions assuming a defensive formation in the space of a single minute. Frentis was pleased to see they had been placed in the centre of the column, meaning the flanks would be held mostly by Free Swords and recently pressed conscripts. Draker had it right, he concluded. These men are commanded by fools.