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positions, while he took up a vantage point in the center of the companies,
concealed over the crest of several grassy knolls to the east of the flat
bluffs, less than half a vingt from the Borlan road. The section of road
directly to the west of Mykel was also about half a vingt to the north of the
causeway approaching the bridge, a graceful arched eternastone structure wide
enough for two wagons abreast, or five riders comfortably.
In the early chill, Mykel was grateful that the low morning sun offered some
slight warmth on his back as he waited beside the roan for the next set of
reports from the scouts. After, a time, he readjusted the sling on his right
arm. He d taken to not wearing it for short periods every day, but he was
likely to be in the saddle for a long time in the day ahead. Fabrytal stood
beside Mykel.
After a time, the undercaptain cleared his throat.  Sir?
 Yes, Fabrytal?
 You know the ground was shaking early this morning just before dawn?
 I know. I felt it. Not only had Mykel felt it, but he d also sensed a wave
of green Talent, seemingly radiating from the Aerial Plateau, or at least from
that direction.  It lasted for more than a quarter glass. The earthquake or
whatever it had been had felt much like the one that had leveled the ironworks
earlier. What else had the ancient soarers done? Would it affect the battle
ahead? How?
Mykel couldn t help but worry about the River Vedra, so much so that while the
Cadmians were forming up, he d ridden to the edge of the bluffs to check the
water level. The river had been no higher or lower than the day before. Since
the bluffs were a good thirty yards above the river, Mykel felt slightly
reassured. But only slightly. Still, it seemed unlikely if not impossible that
enough water could flow down the Vedra to wash over the top of the bluffs,
particularly since the volume of water would flood the lower land to the east
on the south side of the river west of Dekhron and be lost long before it
reached Borlan. For all that, where the soarers were concerned, Mykel had
learned not to discount anything. Something was going to happen.
He smiled ruefully. That didn t mean it would happen to him. He wasn t exactly
the center of the world for either the ancients or the alectors.  Sometimes
those things happen. We re on high ground here.
 What about the Reillies? It s been over a glass. It doesn t take that long to
cover four vingts.
 Except at a very slow walk, Mykel pointed out.
 Majer, sir!
Mykel turned, raising his left arm and watching as one of the scouts rode
toward him, up the narrow space between where Seventeenth and Fifteenth
Companies were drawn up. The Cadmians were all dismounted, but still in a
loose formation by squads.
Coroden reined up.  Sir, the Reillies and the Squawts ... they all just
stopped. Couldn t be more than a vingt from us. One of their leaders rode out
in front, and jumped and stood on his saddle. He was wearing green, all green.
Even his face was painted green.
 Are they still there?
 Yes, sir. They ve been there for nearly half a glass. That was when I d left.
It looks like they re all praying, but they ve got their blades out, or the
captain might have been tempted to ask to attack.
Mykel didn t like that at all, especially not with the rumbling in the ground,
and the Talent he d felt before dawn not when the soarers had suggested they
didn t care much for Cadmians who acted as hunting dogs for alectors.  Tell
him to hold. He s not to attack except if he s attacked. Otherwise, he s to
follow the battle plan, unless I send other orders.
 Yes, sir.
 Have him send word if or when the Reillies start to move again.
Coroden nodded, then turned his mount back down the slope, heading toward the
back lane that paralleled the Borlan road.
 Praying to their gods? asked Fabrytal.  Goddesses, replied Mykel.  If
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they re green, they have to be praying to the ancients.
 Are the ancients all women?
 I don t think anyone knows for certain. Mykel pulled out his water bottle
and took a swallow, thinking. He d never seen a male ancient.
The entire mass of hill riders had stopped dead less than a vingt from Mykel s
Cadmians and less than two from the Borlan bridge. And they hadn t disbanded.
They hadn t made camp. They just prayed and waited. For what?
For a sign from the ancients? For the ancients to attack and destroy the
Cadmians?
Another glass came and went, without either a messenger or any sign of the
Reillies and Squawts. The light breeze that had blown out of the northeast
died away. So still was the air that, despite the chill, the day felt far
warmer than it actually was.
 Majer!
Mykel turned and caught sight of Coroden riding hard from the back lane and
across the winter-browned grass of the slope up toward him.
 They re moving, sir, the scout reported, even before fully reining in his
mount and coming to a stop short of the majer.  They didn t even look at the
side lane. They re pouring down the Borlan road, sir. The captain s waiting
for them to all get past before he follows, but there s got to be close to two
thousand of them.
 Thank you. Tell him to follow niore closely. He s to attack as soon as he
hears us begin to fire.
 Yes, sir.
 Go. Mykel gestured with his good arm.  Be careful on the ride back.
Coroden turned his mount and headed back down the slope.
 Third Battalion! Mount up! Mykel half jumped, half climbed up into the
saddle of the roan, an awkward but effective mounting for a man with a single
usable arm.
 Mount up! The command echoed across the slope of the knoll.
While the three companies were forming up, Mykel rode to the top of the knoll
and looked to the northwest, but he did not see any sign of the Reillies and
Squawts. Uneasily, he rode back down on the east side, toward his men, but
only far enough that he could still watch the road without being silhouetted
against the sky.
As the companies finished mounting and re-forming, the ground began to shiver,
and then to rumble. The high haze in the silver-green sky became even more
silvery. Mykel sensed violent pulses of brilliant amber-green energy flowing [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]