scarred shoulder. It bore a sheen of sweat, both from the exercise and the warm summer sun. By contrast the wind felt cool on his back and neck.
‘Your orders, General?’ asked the young nobleman beside him. Marshal Dassai, like his men, was filthy and tired, but they were also proud. They had fought bravely for weeks, following General Daken into the teeth of the enemy with a determination as savage as that of their white-eye commander.
‘Hold here,’ Daken said, ‘and send a company to scout each flank, watch fer surprises. An hour’s rest for the others.’
Dassai relayed the order with a smile on his blue-scarred face. Litania, Larat’s Trickster Aspect, had been having her fun with Daken’s officers. While they slept she had entered their dreams and marked each one differently, with long, elegant sweeps of blue, like stylised flower stems that ended in curious, drooping hooks of flowers.
Strangely, the days of violence had left the men inured to such trifles, and instead of undermining Daken, Litania had succeeded in binding the men to him with an unwavering loyalty.
Daken himself stayed in the saddle, peering out over the moor. There was little to interrupt the view from where they were: he could see the disturbance of the Menin Army in the distance: three distinct columns of marching men with supporting divisions of cavalry interspersed between them. On the right, two or three miles away, was the long granite tor the locals called the Moor Dragon. It was featureless, and largely useless, as it was near-impossible to scale.
‘They’re keeping tight,’ he commented at last.
Marshal Dassai nodded and passed him up a waterskin. ‘Their scryers tell the same story as ours, no doubt: half a day’s march to Moorview, and they could attack this evening if they wished.’ He rubbed his cropped hair, still finding it strange.
Dassai had inherited his title at nine winters, but he’d grown up the image of his father, a noted soldier. It had near broken his heart that he’d been powerless to help his people, even to flee. As they’d retreated through his own lands, he’d had to leave his twin sister the task of packing their valuables and escaping before the Menin arrived to raze their home. Now, his home almost certainly destroyed, the tenants who farmed his lands slaughtered or driven off, his sister missing, presumed dead, he had nothing. He was only a soldier, with no time for anything except the defeat of the Menin bastards.
‘The scryers are the only ones who’ll want to go now,’ Daken said darkly, watching the nearest enemy divisions with a malevolent eye. ‘Rest of ’em will want to rest.’
Dassai turned towards Moorview Castle, which nestled in an indentation in the forest, too distant for him to make out. The hill it stood on was as unimpressive as this nameless mound, and there was almost nothing in between except enough open flat ground that the two armies would get a good look at each other long before they clashed.
‘Let them come,’ Dassai replied fiercely. ‘I’ve no problem with the enemy being tired by the time they reach our defences.’
‘Makes my skin itch, is what it does,’ Daken muttered. ‘Don’t expect most o’ the king’s infantry’ll be much use, but I still don’t like jus’ sittin’ here waiting for ’em.’
‘What? We shouldn’t allow an undefeated general a choice in how he attacks?’ Dassai said with a wry smile. ‘You may have a point, but we don’t have much option there.’
‘That we don’t.’
Daken looked at the other two legions under his command. They had taken up position on the southwest flank of the hill, ready to continue back towards Moorview when the command came.
‘Might manage one last strike before we give up, though. Ain’t killed misself a Litse yet, and I reckon they’re still with that advance guard.’
‘How?’
‘We send the other legions in a long line to skirt the enemy, makin’ it look like we’re all there. They follow them ’round that damned dragon lump there, they’ll be slow to react to us.’
‘And we keep one legion here, concealed?’ Dassai frowned. ‘But then what? There are more than four legions in that advance guard. They just need to advance into us and we have to turn. If they do follow, there’s no one to hit them as we retreat.’
‘Exactly,’ Daken said with a sudden gleam in his eye, ‘no one in their right mind would try it!’
Dassai laughed, realising what Daken had in mind, and ran to give the orders.