Kaelin Ring had been unusually tense for two days now. He did not doubt the Rigante could stand against the enemy. What concerned him was whether the enemy could still see into the lands of the north. Gaise Macon had assured him that a mighty ward spell had been cast; that they were safe from observation. ‘How do we know?’ asked Kaelin.
‘Aran Powdermill says it is so. I believe him.’
‘I do not even know him. We could march out from here and be massacred before we realize the error.’
‘True,’ said Gaise, with a smile. ‘There is, as they say, only one way to find out.’
So here they were, upon a ridge to the south of the invaders. Kaelin’s orders were to follow hard on the heels of the advance force until they reached the abandoned settlement at Three Streams thirty miles north. It was here that Gaise intended to fall upon them. The Rigante would then surprise them by attacking from the rear.
‘They seem to have passed us by without incident,’ said Korrin Talis. ‘And look. They are making camp.’
‘Aye, but we’ll stay wary. Let’s move back off this ridge and find two campsites. Rayster, I want you to scout to the south. Potter, you stay here and keep an eye on their camp.’
‘They’ve already passed us by, Kaelin,’ said Rayster. ‘What am I to watch for?’
‘As best I could I counted the men moving north. I reckon they have around four thousand. This Powdermill the Stormrider believes in said there were six thousand. So where are the other two?’
‘This would not be a good place to be caught between two armies,’ said Korrin. ‘Not with just seven hundred of us.’
As the night wore on the Rigante lay on the cold earth, sleeping lightly. Kaelin dozed for a while, but could not relax into sleep. Just before dawn he roused Korrin Talis and ordered the men to make ready to march.
As the Rigante roused themselves Kaelin saw Rayster come running into the camp. ‘Fifteen hundred men are moving towards us, Kaelin. They are no more than half a mile south.’
‘Order all weapons loaded,’ Kaelin told Korrin Talis. ‘And send someone to relieve Potter.’ Then, followed by Rayster, he ran back through the trees. Just before they reached the ridge Rayster ran alongside him. ‘Look!’ he said, pointing ahead through the gloom. Moving across the floor of the valley below were three lines of armed men. Dressed in the grey tunics of the King’s Fourth, their muskets were held ready, bayonets fixed to the barrels. They were advancing in attack formation, and heading for the trees.
In that moment something moved to Kaelin’s left.
The trap was well sprung, the four dark-garbed knifemen moving in swiftly. The victims should have been stunned into inaction by the speed of it. Most men would have been. Even most Rigante men. Rayster ducked to his right, Kaelin to his left. One knifeman went down as Rayster’s fist slammed into his jaw. Kaelin grabbed another man’s knife arm and swung him into one of his comrades. Rayster managed to draw his sabre, which plunged through a man’s chest, causing a grunt of pain. Kaelin, with no space to draw his sword, pulled his hunting knife clear, slashing it across the face of a charging man. The blade sliced down over his jawbone, cutting deep into the jugular. As the attacker fell the man behind him sprinted for the safety of open ground. Rayster dropped his sabre, drew his hunting knife and hurled it. The blade took the man at the base of the skull. He stumbled and fell. Rayster ran to him, driving the knife deeper before ripping it clear.
The first man Rayster had punched tried to struggle to his feet. Kaelin moved in and cut his throat.
The advancing men below had reached the foot of the ridge. ‘Let’s move,’ said Kaelin. Rayster gathered up his sabre and followed Kaelin back through the trees.
There was little time for any elaborate battle plans and Kaelin’s mind was racing as he sped back to the main body of the Rigante. Calling Korrin Talis to him he swiftly outlined what he had seen. Fifteen hundred men were marching up the ridge to the south.