Out of sight of the Dros he had slowed the column and signalled the men to ride at ease, free to talk to their riding companions. Dun Elicas cantered alongside him, reining his horse to a walk.
‘A bad business, sir.’
Hogun smiled, but did not answer. He liked young Elicas. The man was a warrior born, and a fine lieutenant. He sat a horse as if he had been born on one, a true centaur. And a hellion in battle, with his custom-made silver steel sabre, two inches shorter than the standard version.
‘What are we supposed to be finding out?’ he asked.
‘The size and disposition of the Nadir army,’ answered Hogun.
‘We know that already,’ said Elicas. ‘What is the fat fool playing at?’
‘Enough of that, Elicas,’ he said sternly. ‘He wants to be sure the spies were not. . . exaggerating.’
‘He’s jealous of you, Hogun; he wants you dead. Face it, man. No one can hear us. You know what he is – a courtier. And he has no guts. The Dros won’t last a day, he’ll open the gates for sure.’
‘He’s a man under terrible pressure. The whole of the Drenai cause rests on his shoulders,’ said Hogun. ‘Give him time.’
‘We don’t have time. Look Hogun, send me to Woundweaver. Let me explain our situation. He could be replaced.’
‘No. Believe me, Elicas, it would achieve nothing. He’s Abalayn’s nephew.’
‘That old man has a lot to answer for,’ snarled Elicas. ‘If we do somehow get out of this business alive, he will fall for sure.’
‘He has ruled for thirty years. It’s too long. But, as you say, if we do get out alive it will be because of Woundweaver. And it’s certain he will take control.’
‘Then let me ride to him now,’ urged Elicas.
‘The time isn’t right. Woundweaver cannot act. Now, leave it alone. We will do our job, and, with luck, get away without being spotted.’
But luck had not been with them. Five days out from Delnoch they had come across three Nadir outriders. They had killed only two, the third ducking down over the neck of his Steppes pony and riding like the wind into a nearby wood. Hogun had ordered an immediate withdrawal, and might have pulled it off had he enjoyed an ounce of luck. Elicas has been the first to spot the mirror messages flashing from peak to peak.
‘What do you think, sir?’ he asked, as Hogun reined in.
‘I think we will need good fortune. It depends how many dog soldiers they have in the vicinity.’
The answer was not long in coming. Towards late afternoon they saw the dust-cloud south of them. Hogun glanced over his back trail.
‘Lebus!’ he called and a young warrior cantered alongside.
‘You have eyes like a hawk. Look back there, what do you see?’
The young soldier shielded his eyes from the sun, then squinted at their back trail.
‘Dust, sir. From maybe two thousand horses.’
‘And ahead?’
‘Perhaps a thousand.’
‘Thank you. Rejoin the troop. Elicas!’
‘Sir?’
‘Cloaks furled. We will take them with lances and sabres.’
‘Yes, sir.’ He cantered back down the column. The black cloaks were unpinned and folded to be strapped to saddles. The black and silver armour glinted in the sunlight as man after man began to prepare for the charge. From saddlebags each rider removed a black and silver forearm guard and slipped it in place. Then small round bucklers were lifted from saddle horns to be fitted to the left arm. Straps were adjusted, armour tightened. The approaching Nadir could now be seen as individuals, but the sound of their battle cries was muffled by the pounding of horses’ hooves.
‘Helms down!’ yelled Hogun. ‘Wedge formation!’
Hogun and Elicas formed the point of the wedge, the other riders slipping expertly into position a hundred on either side.
‘Advance!’ yelled Elicas. The troop broke into a canter; then, at full gallop, the lances tilted. As the distance narrowed, Hogun felt his blood racing and could hear his pounding heart in time with the rolling thunder of the black horses’ iron-shod hooves.
Now he could pick out individual Nadir faces, and hear their screams.