kept his features as expressionless as possible, though the moistness of his eyes was a clear sign of his thoughts.
“I trust your song, old friend,” Vaelin said, forcing a smile before kicking his horse into a gallop, riding hard to catch up with Sherin and the Princess.
* * *
◆ ◆ ◆
They came upon the battlefield when the sun had reached noon. At first Vaelin thought the ugly dark smear marring the yellow-green blanket of the Steppe was the result of a summer grass fire, but his experienced eye soon picked out the bones. They lay blackened or bleached upon the dry earth, many pierced with arrows, withered fletchings making them resemble cornstalks growing from between ribs or sprouting from empty eye sockets. Shattered lances and broken crossbows lay about the field, and many of the bodies still wore armour. Some had been reduced to nothing but bone whilst desiccated flesh still lingered on others. Vaelin paused at the sight of a man lying beneath the remains of a horse, drawn by the gleam of his breastplate. It was more elaborately decorated than the others littering this ground, with inlaid swirls of silver and Far Western script etched onto the steel. One half of the man’s face was a grinning skull and the other a mask of leathery flesh. The crows had taken both his eyes, however.
“General Nishun, if I’m not mistaken,” the Jade Princess said, reining her pony to a halt to peer at the corpse. Her tone was light and not entirely respectful, as if she were greeting a casual acquaintance of little regard.
“You knew this man?” Vaelin asked.
“He came to hear my song some years ago. It’s long been customary for newly appointed luminaries to come to the High Temple. I suppose they think they might glean some favour from Heaven if they hear me sing.” Her small nose wrinkled a little. “This man just stood there without the slightest change to his craggy old face. Then he bowed and left. Plainly the man had no ear for music.”
“Or much in the way of good sense,” Vaelin said, raising his gaze to scan the surrounding carnage. He found he could track the course of the battle from the position of the bodies. About half were arranged in an untidy line facing north, the rest scattered over the space of half a mile with more concentrated on the western and eastern flanks. It was clear this had all happened very quickly.
The main line broken in several places whilst cavalry assaulted both flanks, he concluded. Then a slaughter. They had no time to run. The amount of burning was a puzzle, however. As was the condition of the bodies, some of which appeared to have been dismembered, although when he dismounted for a closer look he saw no sign of cutting on the flesh or bones. Blasted apart, he decided. So, the Stahlhast have Gifted in their ranks.
“Is there a point to lingering here?” Sherin enquired, watching from the saddle as he continued his examination of the site.
“I would know my enemy,” Vaelin said, plucking an arrow from between the ribs of a fallen soldier. It had a head of good if blackened steel rather than base iron, and had been fashioned with no small amount of skill, the twin barbs near perfectly symmetrical and the edges still sharp to the touch. “They didn’t bother gathering their arrows,” he murmured.
“Does that mean something?”
“This is well made and still useful,” he said, holding up the arrow. “But they were happy to leave it behind, along with all this armour and these weapons. A rich people by most measures, yet still greedy for more.”
“It’s not greed that drives them,” the Princess said. “It’s love.”
“Love?” Vaelin asked, gesturing at their grim surroundings. “Love of slaughter?”
“Love for their god. Or terror. I’ve often found they’re much the same thing.”
“Whatever drives them,” Sherin said, “it will end soon. We will end it.”
“By what means?” Vaelin enquired, turning to the Jade Princess. “I know your gift is powerful, but I doubt even you have a song that will put their entire horde to sleep.”
“I have many songs,” she laughed. “There is great power in music. The power to seduce, to enrage, to bring sorrow, and also rest. But I have spent many years perfecting one in particular, and it doesn’t bring sleep. When their faux god hears it . . .” She cast a sorrowful glance around the field. “This will all be over.”