David Gemmell – Rigante 4 – Stormrider

Then came the sound of trumpets.

A column of green-clad musketeers emerged from the northern woods, and spread out in a fighting line, before charging into the unprotected enemy camp.

The Lancers reined in their mounts and gazed back. Then they swung their mounts and galloped to face the new enemy. As they did so Gaise Macon and two thousand cavalry came hurtling into sight. The Eldacre musketeers sent a volley into the Lancers. Gaise Macon’s cavalry ripped into their flank. The Lancers’ formation broke and they were soon engulfed.

At first Kaelin felt a wave of exultation flow through him. Then his expression darkened. Rayster came alongside. There was blood all over his shirt. ‘Are you hurt?’ asked Kaelin.

‘It’s not my blood,’ said Rayster.

‘Get some men together to gather the wounded and prepare the dead for burial.’

‘Mighty strange that they should show up,’ said Rayster. ‘They should have been thirty miles away.’

‘Aye, I was thinking the same thing.’

Down below the Varlish tried to break and run, but they did not get far. Kaelin watched Gaise gallop in among them, his bright sabre flashing in the morning sunlight. Within minutes the battle had become a rout, the rout a massacre.

Kaelin swung away from it and walked back into the trees. Korrin Talis was sitting on a fallen tree. He had two shallow wounds, one to his left arm and a second in his right thigh. Kaelin sat down beside him. Korrin swore softly. ‘Fada is dead, Kaelin. He was a good lad. Mother’s favourite. It will hit her hard. He was beside me. A ball took him in the temple. And I shall miss Badger. He taught me to fish when I was a youngster. Lake salmon. He’d catch them with his hands.’

‘We lost many today, my friend.’

Kaelin moved back towards the wounded. For an hour he wandered among the Rigante. They had lost one hundred and eighty-two men, with another two hundred and thirty-seven wounded. Most of the wounded would recover, but perhaps another twenty would die. Two hundred Rigante had virtually given their lives this day. Kaelin fought to control his anger.

Towards midday Gaise Macon came riding up to the ridge. He stepped down from his grey gelding and approached Kaelin. ‘You were right, Kaelin,’ he said, with a bright smile. ‘Your men are the best of the best. By heaven, you damn near cut them to pieces without our help.’

‘I lost two hundred. Would you care to tell me why?’

Gaise Macon’s smile faded. ‘This is war. Men die. But we won a great victory.’

‘There was no ward spell. They knew where we were. You let me lead my people into a trap.’

‘There is a ward spell, but it does not extend far beyond Wishing Tree. And, yes, I let you walk into the trap. I took you at your word, Kaelin. You said to use the Rigante wisely. I did that. No-one else could have held this position as you did. As a result we have all but wiped out their advance force. We have a victory – and that will give backbone to the men.’

‘You could have told me.’

‘No. Think on it. Had I done so you would have acted differently. You would have deployed your men in a stronger defensive perimeter. The reason they fell for my trap was that they believed – as you did – in my stated strategy. You understand?’

‘Oh, yes, Stormrider, I understand. You tricked the enemy and tricked me and you won. Now you understand this: if you ever seek to trick the Rigante again I will kill you, and then I will take my men back to the north.’

‘You have my word that it will not happen again,’ said Gaise Macon.

‘Your word, Varlish, is dog shit on my boot heel.’

With that he strode away to supervise the burial of the Rigante dead. Towards the afternoon Kaelin stretched himself out on the ground and slept for a while. He was awoken by Rayster. ‘What is it?’ he asked sleepily.

‘Something you should see,’ answered the clansman.

Kaelin rolled to his feet and followed Rayster to the top of the crest. Many of the Rigante had gathered there and were watching something below. Kaelin eased his way through the mass of men.