“So, you see, Big Brother, Kuhmbuhluhnburk is quite safe, unless our army should be defeated, for Duke Djai is an Initiate and no fool.”
Chapter 15
Duke Djai and his allies, Counts Hwahltuh of Getzburk and Mortuhn of Yorkburk, unsuspectingly marched their twenty-two thousand men directly into the jaws of Strahteegos Greemos’ carefully prepared a trap. The security measures had been stringent—a thing almost unheard of in Middle Kingdoms’ wars—the inevitable spies and double agents having been spoon-fed informa-tion to the effect that the Confederation had sent Kuhmbuhluhn about five thousand troops, mostly Ehleen infantry, a tenth of the Confederation’s standing army. Since this was the percentage usually loaned to a vassal state by an overlord, Duke Djai swallowed the tale.
The bait—the Army of Kuhmbuhluhn and its apparent reinforcements—stood athwart the valley through which Duke Djai must advance, their shallow formations lepp-ing up the slopes of the flanking hills.
Duke Djai—tall, slender, and wiry, his full armor painted a brilliant blue and edged with gold—sat his horse beneath the rippling folds of his silken banner, observing the waiting foe, while his own host reformed from marching to battle order. Ranged to his right and left were his allies—Count Hwahltuh, in violet and silver, and Count Mortuhn in orange and black.
Count Hwahltuh had just respectfully opined that Duke Djefree was too expert a war leader to place his men so stupidly—not deep enough to stop cavalry, nor yet long enough in the line to prevent flanking.
Duke Djai threw back his head and his high, tenor laughter pealed. Grinning under his sweeping, red-blond mustache, he answered, “Hwahlt, you’re getting old and suspicious. What else could our esteemed cousin of Kuhmbuhluhn do? If he’d massed his slender forces in one of the narrower valleys, we’d have come through this one and taken him in the rear. His expertise told him that, so he did what he could with what he had. We’ll triumph, of course, but his new Ehleen overlord should have sent him more men.”
Milo, Lord Alexandros of the Sea Isles, and the Sea Lord’s lieutenant, Yahnekos, sat in an artfully concealed vantage point at the crest of the hill on the bait’s right Hank, from whence they witnessed the entirety of the blood-drenched affair.
Duke Djai waited nearly an hour for the flankscouts to report, but when they had not returned by the time the army was formed, he recklessly began his advance. After all, how could Duke Djefree have laid a trap when all of his force was arrayed in plain sight at the other end of the valley?
To the watchers, that advance was a colorful and stirring spectacle—the noblemen in the lead, their painted or enameled armor and nodding plumes and snapping banners creating a rainbow-hued kaleidoscope; behind the banners rode the personal entourages, then rank on rank of Freefighter dragoons and lancers; at a lengthening distance trotted disciplined units of light and heavy infantry.
“Have they no archers?” asked Alexandros. “Or slingers or engines to soften up the opposition?”
Smiling grimly, Milo shook his head. “No, they consider weapons that can kill at a distance to be dishonorable and only use them in defenses and sieges. They have both longbow men and crossbow men, but they probably left them to defend their train.”
At a distance of five hundred yards from the waiting Kuhmbuhluhn array, Duke Djai halted to dress ranks for the final charge as well as to permit his infantry to catch up; for while a cavalry charge could break the formation of an opposing army, he knew full well that only infantry could complete the rout and consolidate the victory.
Count Hwahlruh sidled his black charger up to Duke Djai’s gray stallion. “By your leave, my lord, their lines appear to have deepened in the center. I have a foreboding feeling about this assault.”
Duke Djai was in high good humor and not even the doubt and worry tinging the young count’s voice could dampen it. Slapping gauntleted hand upon armored thigh, he laughed. “You’re too gloomy, little cousin. Of course, Duke Djefree has deepened his center, but you can bet he’s stripped any depth from his flanks to do it! The foot already have their orders, as do the lancers. When we strike the center, they’ll advance on the flanks. Ill have reconquered Haiguhzburk within the month, our dear Lord will be revenged, and both you and Mortuhn will be considerably richer. Now, get your people straightened out and stop fretting so.”