mirror again.
‘Keep up. Keep the line together,’ she told the nearest soldiers, trusting them to pass it on. It was a hopeless endeavour. ‘Keep in sight of your neighbours,’ she added. That was the only means she had found to keep even a small squad together.
Light struck her and for a moment she was blinded. To either side of her was a staggered line of soldiers shading their eyes. They had broken into the first of the slip-fields, a vast open meadow of grass and briars rising almost up to waist height. The morning light cutting over the canopy of the swamps was fierce and unsparing. Captain Goss was already forging ahead, most of the division accompanying him, but she stood, stunned for a second. Without the canopy, without the all-consuming heat, how was this different to some overgrown field near Chalcaster? A summer’s day . . . a different world.
‘Keep up, sir,’ came a muttered aside, as a soldier passed her, and she kicked herself into motion again, pressing forward to catch up with Captain Goss.
An ambush now . . . ? But Mallen’s scouts were ahead of them, ready to fall back and cry a warning if the enemy were near. If Mallen can be trusted. But she baulked at the thought. Of course he can be trusted. He is one of us. But he is of the swamp, too. You cannot blame him for wanting to save the creatures he has made his friends . . .
Animals. Sub-human things. How could he weigh them against his comrades? But he saw them differently: he must do. She would not blame him.
Ahead, Captain Goss re-entered the shadow of the forest canopy without a tremor, and she made sure she was one of the next to go in. She had to set an example. The rotting heat struck her like a hammer after the mere warmth of the slip-field. The atmosphere of air and light became fetid and insect-clogged. Instantly she was splashing through a pool, watching a great reptile flick lazily away from the crashing boots of her soldiers. No shots yet; no whistles.
They forced their way through ever-thicker undergrowth, man-high ferns and cycads, vines strung like nets, great uneven moss mounds bulging knee-high. She stumbled, steadying herself with her musket butt, then hauled another soldier to his feet when he went down. Captain Goss had his sabre out, hacking fiercely at the foliage, carving out his anger on it. She remembered his ‘I am not afraid.’ He was afraid, but he made it push him forward, not hold him back.
Not too far ahead, please, sir. She increased her pace again, slipping and skidding on the poor footing. Gnats alighted on her, lanced her with their little daggers, and fled away when vast-winged dragonflies gave chase. Banded serpents eyed her from above, and water-scorpions fled from beneath her feet. Around her, the line became ever more ragged, and she gave a frantic signal for them all to keep up. She had no idea how many could even see her. Oh, for a whistle like Mallen’s!
The light blazed forth as before, but she was ready for it now: the second slip-field. All around her, Stag Rampant company were breaking out from the bog, picking up their pace. Goss looked back then at last, waving angrily to her. Or, at least, she registered his taut expression as anger. Any number of emotions could be sheltering under that mask.
‘Sir, look!’ She followed one soldier’s pointing arm and her stomach clenched. It was Mallen, with a half-dozen scouts, running back towards them at a full charge.
‘Captain! Scouts!’ she called out, but said no more, for there was movement beyond the fleeing Mallen. A line of grey coats was pushing out of the treeline at the far end of the slip-field. At this distance she could see no details, pick out no single target, but Mallen was still fleeing at top speed. The Denlanders made a movement almost in unison, half of them falling to one knee, and all of them bringing their muskets to their shoulders.
‘Get down!’ Mallen’s voice came to them. ‘Everybody, down! Down!’ Then he took his own advice, hurling himself into the long grass, and Emily dropped to her knees, aiming her useless weapon towards the distant enemy.
Goss grimaced madly, his empty fists clenched. ‘Get up!’ he roared, glaring around at his company. ‘Get up, you fools! They can’t touch us at this—’
First she saw the smoke, an almost solid