On the open field the dead were laid side by side, Legion lancers alongside Skoda warriors. Six hundred and eleven lancers had died that day; two hundred and forty-six Skoda men lay alongside them.
Rayvan wandered through the ranks of the dead, staring down at the corpses, bringing the names of her warriors to mind and praying over each man. Many had farms and crofts, wives and children, sisters, mothers. Rayvan knew them all. She called Lake to her and told him to fetch paper and charcoal to list the dead.
Ananais washed the blood from his clothes and skin and then summoned the Legion general Kare-spa to him. The man was sullen and in no mood for conversation.
‘I am going to have to kill you, Karespa,’ said Ananais apologetically.
‘I understand.’
‘Good! Will you join me in a meal?’
‘No, thank you. My appetite just left me.’
Ananais nodded his understanding. ‘Do you have any preference?’
The man shrugged. ‘What does it matter?’
‘Then it will be a sword-thrust. Unless you would rather do it yourself?’
‘Go to the devil!’
‘Then I will do it. You have until dawn to prepare yourself.’
‘I don’t need until dawn. Do it now, while I am in the mood.’
‘All right.’ Ananais nodded once and pain like the fires of Hell exploded in Karespa’s back. He tried to turn, but darkness blanketed his mind. Galand pulled the sword clear and wiped it clean on the general’s cloak. Moving forward, he sat beside Ananais.
‘Shame about that,’ said the black-bearded warrior.
‘We couldn’t let him go, knowing what he did.’
‘I suppose not. Gods, general, but we won! Incredible, isn’t it?’
‘Not with Tenaka planning it.’
‘Come now, anything could have happened. They didn’t have to charge – they could have dismounted and sent in the archers to drive us back.’
‘Could have. Might have. They did not. They went by the book. According to the Cavalry Manual, the obvious move for horsemen against irregular foot-soldiers is the charge. The Legion are disciplined men and therefore bound to operate by the Manual. You want me to quote chapter and verse?’
‘It’s not necessary,’ muttered Galand. ‘I expect you wrote it.’
‘No. Tenaka Khan introduced the most recent alterations eighteen years ago.’
‘But just suppose . . .’
‘What’s the point, Galand? He was right.’
‘But he couldn’t have known where Karespa would wait with his bugler. And yet he told Parsal and me to make for that hill.’
‘Where else could Karespa watch the battle from?’
‘He might have gone in with his men.’
‘And left his bugler to make the decisions?’
‘You make it sound so simple, but battles are not like that. Strategy is one thing, heart and skill another.’
‘I don’t deny it. The Legion didn’t fight at their best. There are many good men among them and I don’t suppose they relished their task. But that’s in the past. For now I am going to ask the men of the Legion to join us.’
‘And if they refuse?’
‘I shall send them out of the valley – where you will be waiting with one hundred archers. No one man will leave alive.’
‘You’re a ruthless man, general!’
‘I am alive, Galand. And I mean to stay alive.’
Galand heaved himself to his feet. ‘I hope you do, general. And I hope Tenaka Khan can produce another miracle when the Joinings arrive.’
‘That’s tomorrow,’ said Ananais. ‘Let us enjoy today.’
12
Tenaka found the place of solitude he needed at a sheltered waterfall high in the mountains, where the air was cool and clean and the snow lay in patches on the slopes. Slowly, carefully, he built a fire in a ring of stones and sat watching the flames. He felt no elation at the victory, his emotions washed from him in the blood of the slain. After a while he moved to the stream, remembering the words of Asta Khan, the ancient shaman of the Wolfshead tribe.
‘All things in the world are created for Man, yet all have two purposes. The waters run that we might drink of them, but they are also symbols of the futility of Man. They reflect our lives in rushing beauty, birthed in the purity of the mountains. As babes they babble and run, gushing and growing as they mature into strong young rivers. Then they widen and slow until at last they meander, like old men, to join with the sea. And like the souls of men in the Nethervoid, they mix and mingle until the sun lifts them again as raindrops to fall upon the mountains.’