two miles past, and there’s probably another a few beyond that, too. The way they’re going they’ll be just past t’village - sorry bunch o’ stragglers they look now too. There’s open ground all the way left o’ the hill; we’ll catch ’em before t’day’s out.’
‘I’ve heard this before,’ Darn growled, unconsciously fingering a roughly stitched cut on his cheek, ‘and I’ve lost my taste for taking the inviting option.’
The last fleeing garrison they’d tried to catch had been a decoy. In his eagerness to chase them down, Colonel Uresh, Major Darn’s legion commander, had sent him on ahead without waiting for scouts to find out how many men were left in the town. The first division had been badly mauled that day, despite Darn’s efforts to pull them out, and Uresh, realising his mistake, had walked straight into another when he charged straight in with the second division.
They lost the colonel and two hundred men that day, a quarter of their remaining troops, with as many again injured. The previous day Major Darn had been a middle-aged man with prematurely grey hair; this morning the years looked to have caught him up.
‘You don’t want to follow ’em?’ Hain said, surprised. For days now Major Darn had looked like a man champing at the bit to exact some revenge.
‘Of course I do, but how many straight engagements have we had since crossing the border?’ There was no doubt the Narkang forces were engaged in a fighting retreat. They might be steadily giving ground, but they were avoiding direct confrontation in favour of guerrilla tactics, ambushing the Menin wherever they could hurt the invaders. They were only a few days’ ride from Aroth, the most easterly of King Emin’s cities, and had yet to see a real battle.
He looked at his captains and the Dharai assembled around him. He wasn’t surprised when the two warrior-monks remained silent - they were impassive at the best of times - but none of the captains spoke either.
‘There’s scrub all round that hill, easy enough to hide troops in if you’re looking to ambush,’ Darn continued, ‘unless you got close?’ He looked at the scout.
‘No, sir, but ain’t many going t’hide there, doubt enough t’worry us - the garrison’s too far away, couldn’t double-back fast enough t’catch us on both sides without bein’ too blown t’be any use.’
‘There could be more in the trees on the right flank,’ Darn said dismissively, ‘enough men to strafe us.’
‘Nothing at our backs still,’ the scout said, looking anxious about contradicting the major, however certain he was. ‘We’d’ve seen anyone strong enough t’threaten more’n a division o’ heavy infantry. My men din’t go inta the woods, but they were close enough t’see signs o’ a legion easy enough.’
Darn gave a curt nod. ‘I understand, sergeant, but the fact remains this is a fine place for an ambush and I don’t want to be surprised again.’
‘Send the cavalry through the trees? Maybe ahead of a regiment or two? We meet on the other side and if anyone’s in between they’re going to get it from both sides,’ Hain wondered aloud.
Darn shook his head. ‘It leaves us fractured. Neither flank can move fast, and if there is an ambush waiting, it gives them what they’re looking for. We’ve barely more than a company of cavalry, including the scouts, and that’s not enough to be of use if they’re hit. However, even a regiment or two on the hill or in the trees can wait for us to pass, then follow us - and if we do that, we’re the ones getting it from both sides. While they’re sticking us full of arrows and running away if we react, that garrison’ll make up the ground in double-quick time - and I’ll bet they’ll miraculously stop looking like a sorry rabble. Either way we’re left chasing our arses like half-witted dogs.’
‘Where’s a bloody scryer when you want one?’ Hain growled. ‘Even that piss-poor fool was better’n nothing.’
An infiltrator had somehow managed to stay concealed in the high branches of an oak while the Menin made camp around it, and he’d managed to assassinate their only mage before he’d gone down fighting. What had shocked Hain the most was the assassin’s youth - he was fearless and beardless, and well short of his twentieth summer. A fanatical loyalty to one’s lord was hardly surprising to a Menin, but Hain had never before seen it shine so fiercely in the eyes of an enemy.
‘Our God