him if he went too far, had planted at least a seed of caution within him. ‘If we assume that, then all the Denlander army needs do is get within range and shoot at the camp until nobody’s left moving. They can fire accurately at a distance over which our best shot would have almost no chance of scoring a hit.’
‘Well, if that’s the case, Lieutenant, why the hell haven’t they killed us all already?’ Mallarkey shot back at her.
‘Well, sir,’ said Emily, without the faintest trace of malice, ‘I think it’s because they are naturally cautious, cowardly even, and they don’t want to rush things or take unnecessary chances.’ It was perfectly true, but she looked into Mallarkey’s eyes as she said it, and he couldn’t hold her stare but dropped his gaze to the table.
‘What do you suggest, Lieutenant?’ Pordevere asked.
‘Gather every single piece of moveable wood, sir: every crate, barrel and box, the doors from the huts, everything. We make a barricade across the north side of the camp. If the material and time allow, we’ll take in the east, too. We could even dig a trench, if we have time. When the Denlanders come, we’ll have assembled enough cover that they won’t be able to simply shoot us down. They’ll have to come to us. They’ll hate that. They prefer to kill from as much of a distance as possible, or from ambush. We’ll make them come to us face to face. We’ll have the advantage, sir.’
Pordevere stroked his chin thoughtfully. ‘You’ve obviously made good use of your time in the enemy’s hands, Lieutenant,’ he told her. ‘By God, but that’s a plan. Master Sergeant?’
‘Yes, sir?’ Angelline said.
‘Get some men started on it right away. The barricade and the trench. Double time, Master Sergeant.’
‘Yes, sir.’ Marie Angelline ran from the building, and moments later her clear tones could be heard shouting orders.
‘Today, do you think?’ Mallarkey asked, hands clasped together. Emily wondered why he had even joined the army. Just a family tradition? A fetish for parade grounds? His father buying his way in because there was nothing else fit for him? She found she could muster scant sympathy for the man. She still remembered the battle that had seen her captured, where Mallarkey’s company had not turned up at all.
‘Master Sergeant Mallen reckons tomorrow,’ Pordevere said. ‘If these Denlanders are as Marshwic says, they won’t be hurried into it.’
‘I’d say no later than tomorrow,’ said Tubal. ‘They can’t know for sure we won’t have reinforcements coming from Locke.’
Pordevere sighed. ‘It’s a bad business, gentlemen, but it’s on all of our shoulders to bear it. We’ll see out their charge because we are the army, or at least all the army that Lascanne has in this place right now. And then we’ll drive them back and break them, because we must. Make sure your men know what’s at stake, and what the plan is. Does someone want to take an order to the quartermaster for me?’
‘I will,’ Emily volunteered.
‘Good.’ Pordevere’s grin had returned, ready for blood. ‘Tell him to break out every sabre we’ve got. And anything else that’ll take an edge, or that you can get a good swing with, for that matter. Pikes, standard-poles, wood-axes, mallets and picks . . . anything. Arm as many of our men as possible with something you can get in close with. It’ll come to that, before we’re done.’
*
They came the next day, at midday, with the trench still unfinished. One of the sentries started shouting bloody murder, and the labouring soldiers downed tools hurriedly and ran to get the guns that were stacked ready nearby. Emily bolted out of the Stag Rampant hut to take a look, and saw a line of grey-clad figures emerging from the tree-line and advancing cautiously forward.
‘We should have laid mines,’ Caxton declared from beside her.
‘They would have seen us digging from the trees.’ Emily advanced to the camp’s perimeter, as much to give the other soldiers heart as to see better. The Denlanders kept coming, a company’s strength at least, spreading in a great grey stain across the grass.
‘Everyone take cover behind the barricades,’ she shouted needlessly, for most of the soldiers were already down, either behind the stacked wood or just into the trench, their guns directed towards the enemy.
The Denlanders advanced with care, a few steps at a time, but wonderfully disciplined. There was no milling, no straggling. They moved as a disciplined body but, despite that, Emily sensed