IF WE LIVE

According to Laury’s calculations, the child she was carrying had been conceived early in the fall. It would be born in the summer.

But Richard couldn’t be with her. Larens had appointed him marshal of Hallen. Kel wanted the new marshal to lead the army against Morik.

“Maybe it’s better you’re going, ” Laury said .

Richard was surprised. “How d’you mean?”

 “Well, mama says you got to get your last in before the last part; and lately I ain’t really felt like it all that much, but I don’t want to say no to you… It’s all pretty strange.”

 “I guess it must be,” Richard said. “But I think we could’ve handled it.” He helped her put on her shoes. She was having trouble reaching her feet.

 “Not that I want you gone,” she said. “Who’ll tie my shoes? I’ll have to wear slippers all the time.”

They both laughed, but Richard saw her tears. He held her. They lay back on the bed. “You’ve got some time,” Laury said. “If you really want to.”

 “You know I do. If you’re sure you want to.”

  “Yes,” Laury said. “Right now I’m as sure as can be. But you’ll have to tie my shoes again.”

“What a demanding woman you are,” Richard said. “You’re lucky I have the strength to satisfy all your strange hungers.”

“Where’s Morik?” Kel asked.

“He’s crossed over the Blues in Willen,” Tov Korvey said. “Just like we figured he’d do. He’s coming up fast to Stada. Going to be at Inow any time now. Also, hundreds, maybe thousands, of Stableners’re raiding through the Westfall from the Forests.”

“He wants us to send thousands of our men to stop them,” Kel said. “But we ain’t. We need them to stop Morik himself. He’s going to bust through the Greens. We got to be ready to stop him.”

Plott came in. “Sorry I’m late. Can you hear it?”

“Hear what?” Kel asked.

“Ssh. Listen.”

They fell silent. In the quiet they heard a deep, far-off rumble. “He’s shelling Inow,” Plott said. “It’s a heavy bombardment, and the mortars are the worst of it. Some of them are monsters. He’s using black powder in all his weapons, but he seems to have tons and tons of the stuff. He has some very large cannon and mortars.

Kel was puzzled. “What the hell’re mortars?” The spacers explained. Kel didn’t like the sound of it. “Balls big as kegs coming straight down from the air? That what you’re saying? Any way to get at the things?”

 “Their range is short,” Plott said. “You could destroy them with cannon, but Morik has plenty of his own guns. They’re big-bore weapons, and they’d probably get our little mountain guns before you got close enough.”

Richard left the council and went outside. The sun had just set. He looked across the lake of Hallenwater. A swelling light glowed above the mountains. The lake reflected the guns’ aurora.

Kel joined him. “I hadn’t thought about anything like this. I’d’ve said Adzeseye could be held against everything and anybody by a couple of hundred. But this – I don’t know. What d’you think?”

Richard shook his head. “I don’t know either. But I keep imagining huge balls splintering on solid stone. That place is all bare rock.”

“Yeah.” Kel looked at the glow of the bombardment. “The poor devils stuck in there might not be able to take it. I guess we’d better get all our people down from the hills.”

Kel gathered the army in Hallenwater. Men who had been making arms or planting crops joined up, increasing the force to forty thousand. Kel and the infantry commander Rick Kern planned the march. They drew some rough maps to explain the lay of the land to the spacers. The Vale river drained the whole great valley and ran down to the low spot that was the Lake of Hallenwater. The Lower River ran from the lake to the village of Passot and into Adzesye.

“I hear Morik’s marching up to the passes in the northern Greens,” Kern said.

Kel nodded. “He’s going to try to break through whichever one falls first. Then his horse’ll run wild across the Vale, too fast for anyone to stop him.”

“We got to get across the bridge at Passot,” Kern said.

“True words,” Kel said. “Then we march up the Vale. Whatever hole Morik squirts through, we hit him in the side.”

“After the Vale army is defeated,” Richard said. “We march in and win the victory – we hope. Maybe people will want to replace the Lands with the brave, selfless leaders of the army of Hallen.”

“Could work out that way,” Kel said blandly. “Only way to win this, is the way I said. We ain’t got time to march up and take over at all those passes. Even if they’d let us.”

The army marched. As they rounded the shore of Hallenwater, dispatch riders reached them. The Stableners were in Adzeseye; they were fighting in Passot, the little village at the northern end of the gorge. They were swarming out into the Vale in their thousands. Frightened refugees hurried down the road to Hallen, running from the Stablener savages. Scouts reported them in the triangle of land between the two branches of the Vale river, heading for Hallenwater.

Kel scanned the far side of the river with his glasses. “What a fucking mess! I had such a neat little war planned.” He sighed. “Well, ain’t but one way: I got to cross the lake. You and Rick take twenty or thirty companies down the road to Passot fast as you can go. Take the bridge if you can. Keep them bottled up if you can’t.”

Richard looked across the river and saw the movement of Stablener troops through his glasses. “How’re you going to move an army across the lake? They’ll see you and stop you on the beach.”

           Kel smiled. “You don’t know this land. Neither do the Stableners. I got a little trick.”

The Stableners had crossed the bridge at Passot. The small force guarding the approach to the bridge was surprised by the sudden descent of the Hallener rifle companies. They fled across the bridge and took cover in Passot. They and the Halleners fought house to house.

The fighting in Passot alerted the Stableners. Richard could see across the river; their army appeared out of the folds of the land, tiny in the distance, the metal of their weapons and armor winking in the sunlight. The Stableners were on high ground, and they saw the Kel’s soldiers gathering at the lake, near a growing collection of barges and boats. They hurried down to defend the beach.

Kel sent the boatloads of soldiers off just before dawn. It was the coolest hour of the day, and the low, thin mist which floated over the cold water of the lake solidified into a dense fog – as it did almost every morning. The fog rolled over the waiting Stableners and blinded them. The Halleners were blinded too. But their boatmen were accustomed to the fogs of the lake. They rowed the soldiers up to the shore with muffled oars. The Halleners jumped out of the boats and ran through the muffling fog. Bright muzzle flashes stabbed into the damp grayness. The Stableners fell back in confusion. The barges began to ferry the main body of the Hallener army across the lake.

From their position on the slopes above the bridge, Richard and Kern had a panoramic view of both battles. “Hah,” Kern said. “Look, he’s heard we’re in Passot. He’s turned his men to run back, to try and hold it. Whoever he is, he ain’t a bad soldier. Too bad for him he’s got to fight us.”

Kel and his men swung down across the southern part of the Vale, a swinging door slamming the Stableners into Passot. The Stableners fought to try to hold the village and the entry into Adzeye. The stone and timber houses of the little town gave them good cover. Richard sent hundreds of riflemen across the bridge and brought cannon to fire through the village’s narrow, cobblestoned streets. Kel’s part of the army pressed down from the north. But the Stableners fought for every stone. They kept shooting at the Halleners while the cannon knocked down the upper stories of the houses they held. They fought hand to hand in darkened rooms, killing and being killed in the villagers’ prosaic kitchens and parlors. Their commander was hanging on, hoping for reinforcements from Morik.

Kel and Richard smashed the Stableners out of the northeast corner of the town. The wings of their forces met. The Stablener commander knew that his little army was about to be crushed. He used his best musketeers and shotgunners as a rearguard. He rushed the rest of his army into Adzeseye.

Kel looked up at the shadowed cleft. The sun was just above the peaks of the Hightops, but it was already night in Adzeseye. “Sweet fucking life! This damn bastard wasted all day just to hold a couple of little houses. Weren’t for him, we’d’ve got here when it was still light.”

Richard nodded. “We still have to go after them. If they get back to those big guns we’ll never get through.”

“I know,” Kel said. “But fighting in the dark, in that place – it’ll be a taste of hell. Kern! Where’s Kern? Get him.”

 The marshal had to give the official order. Richard pointed to the gorge. “Break through that rearguard fast. Use riflemen first, to shoot their musketeers, then everything it takes. “

Kern looked at the darkness inside Adzeye. “Yessir, Marshal. Everything it takes.”

The Halleners marched into Adzeye. They met the Stableners on the narrow road. The Stableners fired their muskets and shotguns at tight-packed Hallener ranks. The Halleners shot at the Stableners. But the river outfought them both. It was near its early summer peak, and its giant roar reduced the crack of rifles to a tinny snapping. It drenched the soldiers with mist and spray, wetting their gunpowder. The Halleners and Stableners fought on with swords and fists in a wet, thundering blackness lighted by scattered muzzle flashes. The river swirled up to the edge of the road, pulled men away, and battered them to death

When the firing fell off Kel sent in a company of heavy infantry. Kern managed to edge it up to the Hallener front, The heavy foot were defensive stand-off troops, big men covered with steel. They carried shields, pikes, swords, and shotguns. On the attack they were a ponderous dinosaur. But the Stableners couldn’t get at their vulnerable flanks or see to shoot them. The heavy infantry didn’t need to see. They kept ranks and marched forward. When the Stableners’ occasional shot hit them, they closed ranks and walked over the bodies of their dead. Their iron-shod boots clacked on the stony pavement, treads of the human bulldozer they had become.

They ground through the Stablener rearguard. Kern pulled them back and sent lighter, faster troops racing after the fleeing Stableners. The Halleners fell on the men in the tail of the Stablener column, cutting and shooting at their backs. The Stableners in the rear ran forward and pushed against the men in front of them. Frightened horses thrashed through the crush. The whole Stablener army started running, and the Halleners ran after them. Both sides raced through the roaring darkness.

 They burst out of Adzeseye. The Halleners chased the Stableners through the shattered remains of the village of Inow. They followed them into their trenches. They fought among the dark, bulky shapes of the big cannon and mortars. A Stablener powder magazine blew up, killing hundreds of men. Both sides were disorganized, but the Stableners were outnumbered. They ran or died. The Halleners lay down to sleep among the captured guns.

            In the morning the soldiers were dazed with tiredness. They looked around and wondered. Inow was a field of rubble. The mountainsides were gouged and blasted. The mixed bodies of the dead were everywhere.

            Kel shook his head. “What a hellish mess.” He looked up at the dark cleft of Adzeye. The fine mist seeping out was spangled with rainbows; the thunder of the river was muted. “Morik ain’t going to stop the men that went through that place. Only thing is, if he gets through one of those passes in the Greens, we won’t be able to catch him. We got to get up and march.”

            “Yessir. I know.” Kern had been with his men in Adzeye. He was hollow-eyed with exhaustion. “Only hope the men don’t shoot me when I tell them.”

            Kel sent cavalry to scout for the Stableners. The horsemen ran into a large force. It was an army of light cavalry and mounted infantry hurrying down to reinforce Morik’s Inow soldiers. The Stableners were alarmed by the presence of the Halleners. They stopped their advance. They probed at the Halleners and gathered remnants of the Inow force. Kel used heavy cavalry to throw them back.

            “I don’t know Stada,” Kel said. “What’s Morik likely to do, Rick?”

            “The road you see afore us runs straight down to the ports on Habeel Bay. At the bay it goes north to cross the Greens at Gatwy and runs straight down the Vale to Val City. I’d guess that’s where he’s going to.”

            “Gatwy’s a fort, right? With a wall to stop toll cheats, like Highgap. Like Inow was. So why didn’t he take his guns to knock it down?”

            Kern shook his head. “He wanted to move fast? He didn’t know what his guns could do?”

            “Hate it when the other fellow’s doing things I can’t figure,” Kel said. He sighed. “Well, ain’t no choice. We’re down in a hole here, with the biggest, fastest army in the world ready to pour down on us. I’ll send the horse to stick him in the ass. Richard, you and Rick get the men heading north. Only you got to go on the sides of the hill and hug that treeline. You walk up that road, Morik’ll send his light horse swarming around your sides. Then bring up the Blacks to smack you in the face.”

            The exhausted soldiers struggled over rolling fields and through copses of trees. Below they could see the road, open and tempting.  As Kel and Richard moved among them, they shouted angry demands and questions.

“What the hell you doing, Kel? You stripped every man out of Hallen, and if you don’t stop fucking ’round the Stableners’re going to get over there, rape our women, kill our old people, and carry our kids away to slave.”

 “This ain’t right, Marshal. The damned Stablener cannons killed my little brother, tore him to pieces, and him only fifteen. We ought to be getting after those bastards.”

“I got to get back to my people. I left my forge to fight, not march my legs off. “

The infantrymen camped, as the cavalry rode north to raid the Stableners. They got a night’s sleep. In the morning their confidence returned. They looked over the terrain and saw the problems Kel and Richard were dealing with. Well, they said, I guess it is better to walk over the downs than to get killed on the road. Maybe they do know what they’re doing. For oncet.

Late in the day the cavalry galloped back to yell boasts at the skeptical infantrymen.

“There’s Sullino,” Kel said. “Hey, Karel! Over here.” He shook his head and laughed. “You don’t have to look hard to pick Sullino out.”

Karel Sullino ornamented his profession. A band of gold lamé held back his shoulder-length hair. A frilly garment contributed by one of his female admirers was wrapped around his throat. Belts, sashes, and straps held a big Hastab saber, four or five knives, a shotgun, and a longhammer carbine to his stocky body. The blue of his cavalryman’s coat was covered with garish embroidery. The rowels of his silver spurs were made from golden coins. Bright tassels hung from the brim of his Lastablener sombrero, the hilts of his many weapons, and the tops of his high scarlet boots.

“Step into the shade, Karel, ” Kel said. “The sun shining on your coat is about to put my eyes out.”

Suillino grinned and smoothed the skirt of his many-colored coat. “Noticed it, did you?” He clanked, rustled, and jingled into Kel’s tent. “My main honey made it for me. She ain’t the best to look at you ever saw – but oh, what she does with those busy fingers!”

“Getting back to the war,” Kel said. “Which I guess is what you got those twenty or thirty weapons on you for – what’d you see?”

“A whole of a lot of Stableners,” Sullino said. “Far as the eye can see. Morik’s got  himself a regular city up there.”

Richard nodded. “What kind of weapons has he got?”

“All kinds,” Sullino said. “We ran into some Stada farmers running south, and they say Morik’s got so many people that it seems like he’s made them into three separate armies. What you might call his first horse army’s about thirty thousand Lastableners. They ain’t got guns, but he’s added some of his Blacks onto them to give them some punch. Those Blacks got some kind of small gun now. Not a shotgun, but like a little musket.”

“A pistol,” Richard said. “Not as bad as shotguns. But still not good.”

“His second army is forty thousand of his own Hastableners, all horsed, and all I saw with muskets or those pistols. His army of foot soldiers is maybe ten-twenty thousand, all up north doing something. The farmers said he’s got some scouts he snuck into the Vale, but they don’t know how many.”

“How close do you figure he is to breaking through to the Vale?”

“Too close. Maybe two days? He got his horse kind of strung out along the Greens, I’d guess waiting to see which way he can get through.”

“Sweet fucking life!” Kel said. “Seventy thousand horse just waiting to storm across the Vale. I thought to catch him between us and the army of the Vale. Now we got to make an army twice our size attack us.”

“‘Nother thing,” Sullino said. “The road’s full of wagons. Full of guns, powder, and stuff, coming up from the Bay. They say Morik’s got a whole army of ships there. Sailed them all the way from Wawee.”

“That’s how he got the big guns and mortars here,” Richard said. “Then all he had to do is tow them up the road to Inow.”

“Shit,” Kel said. “More new ways of warring I got to learn. Another job for you, Karel. Burn those wagons.”

“But don’t stay close,” Richard said. “Some will blow up.”

Kel sent Sullino to attack the Stableners. Richard and Kern hurried the rifle companies and the artillerymen as much as possible. Sullino reported that detachments of Morik’s horse musketeers were moving south, forming a defensive line in one of the narrows between the sea and the crest of the Greens.

Kel sent riflemen sidling around the western edge of the Stableners’ line. The Stableners tried counterattacking and out-flanking moves of their own. Halleners and Stableners skulked through the trees and shot at people that they hoped were on the other side. The Stableners weren’t woodsmen and mountaineers like the Halleners. They got confused on the complicated, forested ground. Their muskets were hard to use in heavy cover. By nightfall the Halleners had pushed them away from the crest.

In the morning large formations of mounted musketeers appeared from the north. They reinforced the Stablener flank. They fired line volleys into the Hallener line, forcing them to take cover.

“Where’s that half-company of sharpshooters?” Richard asked.

“Right behind us,” Kern said. “Getting cranky ‘cause they’re not shooting people.”

“Bring them up. Stop those musketeers trying to hold the Stablener flank.”

Kern maneuvered the sharpshooters onto the wooded heights above the Stableners. The marksmen used custom-made guns. Their heavy barrels were a meter long. They had complicated sights to figure the drop of their big rounds. They were cumbersome and slow firing. But they used magnum ammo loaded with boat-tailed bullets. They outranged all the Stablener weapons. The Halleners called the standard-issue rifles longhammers, but the sharpshooters’ weapons were the Big Peckers.

The sharpshooters pecked at the Stableners. They fired until their shoulders were black and blue from the heavy kick of the rifles, cooling the smoking barrels of their guns with dashes of water.

The Stableners were frantic. They tried building protective screens from brush. But rounds fat as bumble bees buzzed right through. It took a hands-width of solid wood to stop the heavy bullets. The Stableners marched up a group of captive or collaborating foresters with longbows. But even the greatest archers couldn’t outshoot the big rifles. The sharpshooters ignored the hapless bowmen and shot their officers. The Stableners tried massed musket fire. But the musketeers had to stand up to ram charges into their muzzle-loaders. The riflemen lay in cover and pushed thumb-sized rounds into the breeches of their peckers. They said it was a real good thing when the damn-fool Stableners bunched up like that: you could get three-four of them with every shot; the bullets would go right through all of them and kill a horse on t’other side.

Kel was impressed by the effect of the rifles. He appropriated one and got Richard to teach him to shoot it. “I figure anything called a big pecker’s bound to suit me.” He fired at a tree. The thunderous shot echoed around the valley. “Was that a hit?”

“Sorry. A clean miss.”

“Damn! If’n only my eyes wasn’t so bad. What I need is something like those glasses on the gun instead of these little peephole things.”

“There is such a thing,” Richard said. “Maybe next time.”

“Ain’t going to be a next time.” Kel was looking north through his glasses. “Not for this war. Look.”

Masses of horsemen appeared on the horizon. Morik’s cavalry was moving in from the north. The horsemen assembled to extricate the musketeers.

Kel ordered an attack at the top of the rolling hills. The Stableners began to withdraw. They abandoned the crestline. They bunched near the edge of the wooded heights. Below them the road to the north was open and tempting. But it lay beyond a wide stretch of pastureland. The cleared ground was exposed to the Halleners’ fire. A small wash, the basin of a trickling creek, offered the only cover. The rolling swell of the meadows around it sheltered it from the Halleners’ rifles.

“Morik’s here, ” Kel said. He grinned exultantly. ” See how quick he works? Those horse-musketmen’re the just the troops he needs to rip open Gatwy and cut into the guts of the Vale. He’ll try to slip them down the wash, then use those mobs of horse to keep us from chasing them.”

Richard watched Stablener patrols move into the wash. “He’s not just trying — he’s already doing it. How are we going to stop him?”

“Get the cannons and our own horse on the job,” Kel said. “Sweep your riflemen down across that field.”

 The horsemen and gunners gathered at the edge of the forests. The artillerymen positioned their guns. Riflemen raced into the open meadow and hit the dirt. A second rifle company leapfrogged past the first. The Halleners advanced down and across the meadow, moving toward the wash. Morik sent more men into the wash. They fired across the field. The Halleners sheltered behind rills in the ground and crawled forward. The Stablener cavalry flowed toward the bottom of the field. The mob of horse-archers was stiffened by the steel-clad backbone provided by Morik’s heavy troopers. The Hallener cannon fired over the heads of the men slinking through the field, forcing the Stablener horsemen to move back.

“Fuck,” Richard muttered. “We’re just holding, Kel. Nothing we’re doing is really hurting them.”

“It’s himself!” Kel had his field glasses trained down the hill. “Look near the bottom of the wash. He’s in range.”

Richard looked through his glasses. Morik had removed his helmet so his soldiers could see his face. A soldier behind him held the black and green flag of Hastablen. A breeze ruffled it, showing the running horse of the Ayvens. A bodyguard company of his gray-horse troop stood around Morik. He was talking to his officers and pointing uphill.

Kel’s pecker rifle was propped against a nearby tree. Richard aimed the long, heavy barrel at Morik’s head.

“No!” Kel knocked the barrel down.

 “What the hell? ” Richard tried to pull the rifle back up. “You know he’s the only one who can beat us. Kill him and Stableners are finished. “

“Sure,” Kel said. “But you ain’t that good a shot. Let Kern try it. You get onto the sharpshooters. I want them all aimed at him, but they ain’t to shoot till Rick does.”

Kern muttered to himself as he estimated the distance and adjusted the sights. Morik was near the edge of the rifle’s range; the wind was gusty. It was a difficult shot. Kern held the heavy rifle against a tree-trunk to steady it. He aimed carefully.

Richard watched Morik with his glasses. He was still talking with his officers. He must have known that he was within cannon-shot. But it took time for cannon to range in. Morik was outside the longhammers’ range. He and his men had no way of knowing the range of the big peckers. He was taking a slight risk to get a personal look at the Hallener movements.

Richard heard a runner reporting to Kel. “The peckers’re all rea — “

Kern fired. In the same instant Richard saw Morik pull his reins to restrain his fidgeting horse. The horse backed a step. Kern’s shot smashed into an officer behind Morik. It must have skimmed just past Morik’s chest.

Morik looked up. He was surprised, and he seemed to stare right into Richard’s eyes. A staff officer rode in front of him, shielding Morik with his body. A sharpshooter’s bullet hit him, punching him against Morik. Other rounds fired by the sharpshooters hit Morik’s horse. The horse went down. Morik twisted out of the saddle as it fell; he took cover behind the horse’s body. It thrashed and screamed, alive but terribly hurt. Rifle bullets seeking Morik silenced it. Its body jumped and twitched from the tearing impact of the big rounds. Its smooth gray coat was blotched with patches of torn red.

Some of the officers around Morik blundered into the rifle fire. The men of Morik’s gray-horse troop rode in front of their leader and tried to block the heavy rounds with their bodies. Some had their horses shot out from under them; they stood up in the rifle fire, allowing themselves to be torn apart to give Morik a little more shelter.

Richard couldn’t see Morik among the heap of bodies. He hadn’t seen him hit. “Get cavalry down there. Shotgunners. Get him!”

“Wait,” Kel said calmly. “Shooters first. Get the cannon to blow that piece of ground to hell. All the rifles shooting; get more men out in the field and move them towards the wash. Heavy horse and shotgunners to move catycorner across the field, right alongside of the rifle fire.”

Richard directed the fire of the guns and got the infantry moving. The cannon and sharpshooters battered the pile of bodies where Morik lay, alive or dead, among his companions. The Hallener infantrymen advanced into the field and opened up with all their rifles. The heavy horsemen and shotgunners hastened into position.

 The whole Stablener army seemed to be running to Morik’s aid. Through his glasses Richard saw the Stablener light horse galloping in. The slower heavies were behind them. Richard heard and felt the rumble of their charge. The musketeers started to pour down the wash to stop the Hallener advance. The intense fire of the riflemen hurt them badly: the wash didn’t provide enough cover to shelter the sudden movement of hundreds and thousands of men. But they kept running and crawling down to Morik.

The Stablener cavalry reached the edge of the battlefield. They slowed and hesitated. They were daring horsemen, but they were afraid of the terrible rifles. One of their officers was clever and fast thinking. He got them to dismount and herd their horses up the wash. The low banks of the little gully channeled the frightened horses into a thick stream. The Stableners ran among them, sheltering behind their bodies and whipping them into cannonballs and rifle bullets.

The Halleners’ fire harrowed the horses. The gunners and sharpshooters tried to knock them down and get at the Stableners. The Hallener infantrymen stood up and ran across the field, daring the fire of the Stableners in the wash. Masses of Stablener horsemen swirled just out of cannon-shot. The whole battle thrust for the patch of ground where Morik lay.

The Stableners’ blood-spattered horses got there first. Some of them scrambled up the bank and ran into the Halleners’ fire. The Stableners whipped the remaining horses back down the wash.

“They can’t have gotten him,” Richard said. “He can’t be alive.”

 “He is! ” Kel shouted. “Look. “

Richard saw Morik pull himself up on one of the horses. He had his flag, and he held it high over his head. One corner was heavy and wet with blood, red against the black and green. The wind of his passage pulled the flag open and showed the running horse. Kel and Richard heard the Stableners cheering.

“Sweet fucking life!” Kel said, “The bastard’s got the damndest luck I ever saw. The fifty best shots in the world shooting at him, cannons, people torn to pieces all around him, and he ain’t even hurt. Seeing a thing like that’d make you believe he really is a son of the wild girl’s sons. It’s lucky for us you’re a man from above the sky, and I’m the best soldier in the world. Maybe even we can’t kill him, but I’m sure going to break his army.”

Kern joined them. They studied the field. “Ain’t where I wanted to fight,” Kel said. “If we’d had just one more day… I’d gone up and hit him in the ass.”

“If he’d had one more day,” Kern said. “He’d have fifty thousand horse storming down the road to Val City.”

“True words,” Kel said. He sighed. “Rick, you move your rifle companies down alongside that wash and clean out those musketmen. Me and Sullino’ll get the horse to guard your back and sides.”

“Where’s his light horse?” Kern asked. “Forty thousand of the fastest riders in the world?”

“On their way,” Kel said. “We’ll know he’s got them in hand when he moves into formations.”

Down the hill they saw the swarming, disorganized mass of horsemen shake down into neat formations of hundreds, thousands, and tens of thousands. A thick column moved up to confront the Valens.

“Shit! He’s going for it,” Kel said. “He’s going to throw down everything in one big hit.”

Kern studied the distance with his glasses. “I see what must be his Lastablener horse – thousands and thousands of them. But they ain’t moving up to get behind the other horse. They’re heading south to swoop around onto our side.”

“The cannon are on that side of the wash,” Richard said.  I’ll take some rifle companies and hold that flank.”

“Do it,” Kel said. “I’m going over to set up the horse. May even make ‘em a speech.”

“You? Didn’t know were a speech-making soldier.”

Kel grinned. “This is special.”

Kern and Richard sorted out the rifle companies. Richard mounted his horse. He told Kern that he was going to check on the artillery companies. “Yessir, Marshal,” Kern said. “Like to hear what Kel’s going to say myself.”

Richard stopped just inside the treeline. He checked the movements of his cannon and rifle companies and looked out on the horsemen. The Stablener force was moving slowly across the plain below. Then Valens stood at the top of the slope. As Richard watched the Stablener force turned to point directly at the Valens. Morik’s Blacks covered the face of the army, making it look as if the whole force was composed of those elite troopers. But the Valens seemed unworried: if any of them felt fear it took the form of hectic gaiety. Their laughter and shouts floated above the crackle of gunfire.

Kel and Karel Sullino had their scanty troops of light horse and shotgunners lined up on the far side of the cavalry division. The mass of the force was a solid block of heavy troopers. They were big men on big horses; they carried long lances and hardcock swords. They and their horses were covered with steel. Some were Guardsmen; others were mercenaries like Kel, come home to fight for their country. All were professional soldiers. Their big shields were painted with the blue and green colors of Valen, but they carried a motley of banners recalling their various origins. Some of the little flags were beautifully colored. Others were garish and crude, things the soldiers or their wives and mistresses had cobbled together around far-away campfires. Troop names or mottoes were stitched or roughly painted on the banners. The more dignified mercenary units had names like Neverbreak and Hithard; the other sort of mercenary troop had Buggerem and Hellfuckers. The Guardsmen’s banners said Forever.

Kel sat his horse to one side of the division. He watched the Stableners. Morik’s cavalry army was moving slowly toward them. The Blacks were dressing their ranks. The Valens grew quiet and restrained their excited horses. The wind was gusty and the rifles were firing, but it seemed curiously still.

Kel lifted his hand. “Listen here, you horse-back bastards. You know this’ll be the end of you. If you live, next year you’ll most likely be learning to shoot and march.”

The horsemen groaned and shouted. Never! We’ll never march on our own feet.     “Yes, you will,” Kel said. “Unless you want to go back to marching behind the plow. You know I’m telling it true, boys: you know what the rifle does. It’s the end for the heavy horse. But you also know where I come from. You’re what made me what I am – the greatest soldier ever was.”

 More shouts and jeers. “Well, ain’t I going to win this battle? Ain’t I going to win the war?”

No, the horse-soldiers said. We are! “Well, maybe so. For the last time. This is the last charge. This is the last time you’ll ever be the ones that wins the battle and makes the world turn. This is the last stroke of the heavy hammer. So make it a good one!” Kel looked at the Stableners. They were moving at an easy canter. “You damn bastards! You ain’t never been good for nothing but fucking women, killing men, and going on about how tough you are. So you better do something you can brag on for the rest of your lives. You ain’t going to get another chance. Do what you’re here for!”

Bugles blew. The cavalrymen cheered. The division moved. It started at a dead slow walk.

Richard rode over. Kel was watching the Staleners with his field glasses. “Look,” he said. “Their horses’re tired from rushing in to save Morik; some’re still blowing and lathered. We got a real chance to break the bastards.” He turned his glasses on the Valens. “Come on, Karel,” he muttered. “You better not fuck this up. It’ll never come again. And me just having to sit here and watch it.”

The Valens walk accelerated. The heavy troopers rode knee to knee and made sure they kept their order. The bugle blew a long call. Some of the troopers turned their horses to the left, others to the right. Their square formation widened. They dressed the elongated lines of the new formation.

“So pretty,” Kel said. “Karel is so good.”

Down the hill, the Stableners charged, kicking their horses to a gallop. “A little soon,” Kel said. “But damn! That’s a fucking lot of horse!” He looked at the Valens. “Any day now, Karel.”

The bugles blew an ululating call. All the Valens shouted and kicked their horses to a gallop. They charged down the hill.

The two cavalry forces raced for one another. The earth shook; the rumble of the charge filled the air. The two forces met. Metal screeched and thumped on metal. Men and horses screamed. Richard heard the thudding crump of thousands of men and horses battering at one another.

He gathered the officers of his rifle companies. “Stand in front of the cannon. The Stableners will come from the bottom of the hill, so they won’t see the cannon behind you. When I give the word, make sure your men drop to the ground.” He said to the artillerymen: “Elevate your guns to fire over the riflemen, with roundshot, soon as they bear. When I give the order, load with case and fire level.”

He saw the Stablener light horse appear at the southern edge of the ridge. Over the crest on the northern side, the infantrymen of both sides were still fighting over the wash. The Stableners aimed to storm over the ridge and attack the flank of the Hallener infantry.

Suddenly, without any signal that he could see, they whipped their horses to a gallop. Richard looked through his glasses and saw that the whole force was riding against his men. He nodded to the artillerymen. “When you’re ready.”

The gunners elevated the barrels and fired. The crews worked with their backs to the Stableners, loading with practiced swiftness. The gun captains watched the fall of the shot with set faces; they pulled the firing lanyards again and again. But the Stableners kept coming. The rifleman began firing, trying to shoot horses in the front of the charge, forcing fast-moving riders to veer or run into the fallen bodies. But the Stableners rode on.

Richard saw that most of the leading riders were very young. Many were as beardless as girls. Some looked no older than twelve. Ribbons in their long hair indicated betrothal to sweethearts. Tassels and banners proclaimed their loyalty to band and kepta. They rode lightly on their high-bred horses and accelerated away from the older, heavier men.

“Load case,” Richard said. He signaled the riflemen. The Hallener infantrymen dropped to the ground. The gunners lowered the cannon barrels. They loaded with case shot and fired. Small pieces of the wadding fell softly on the prone Halleners.

A mass of metal smashed into the charging horsemen. The main body of Stableners slowed. The older men blew bugles and waved banners, frantically trying to recall their sons and brothers. But the youths could not hear the bugles: their ears were filled by the cannonade. They did not see the urgent banners: their faces were turned toward the Halleners. They rode straight into the canister shot. The belly-high blast of metal tore off the legs of the leading horses. The rear ranks piled into screaming, mutilated animals. Dismounted youths stood up to run toward the Halleners. The cannonade tore them apart. Wounded boys crawled forward. Riflemen killed them.

The disorganized remnants of the cavalry army fled down the ridge, streaming to the south. The cannon kept firing, hitting the retreating horsemen again and again. Richard ordered them to stop. In the sudden silence he realized that the popping of small arms fire had stopped.

A tall man on horseback appeared at the edge of the bloody field of dead horses and boys. It was Kel. He had a jug of wine and two glasses. “For your victory, Marshal.”

The riflemen were moving into the field, shooting the injured horses and the Stablener wounded. “Those’re Lastab boys. The greatest horsemen there is, but most’re too poor to buy even a saber. All they got is a belt knife and a pointy stick they use as a cattle prod. And Morik sent them against our rifles and our cannon. Just so he could get a little more time to get his ass out of here.”

He poured a red wine into the glasses. “The taste ain’t what I’d like, but way better than losing.” He lifted his glass. “To victory: another whore I always loved.”

Richard lifted his glass. “To victory.”