IF WE LIVE

The next day a sleepy Richard was on the road to the Highgap. He and Kel sorted the soldiers and wagons into a long, thin marching column. They started up the long, thin road to the pass.

Richard took a leather-covered object from his saddle bags. “Here’s something Peterson sent you.”

Kel was puzzled. “What is it? Some funny kind of weapon?”

 “They’re field glasses. You turn these two little things on the ends – they’re called eyepieces – until what you’re looking at comes in sharp and clear. “

 Kel was enthralled. He spent most of the day with the glasses glued to his eyes. Richard and the others had to steer him away from the precipitous edges of the road. At night he lay flat on his back and stared up at the stars. He was stingy about letting others try the glasses. “My eyes ain’t too good,” he confided. “Not as good as the rest of me, anyway. I’ll have to thank old Peterson when we get back. If we live.”

Kel studied the road with his glasses. It was worth a long inspection. The Highgap road hung on the sides of mountains. It was disturbingly narrow, and the Halleners saw no reason to waste money on sidewalls. One edge of the road dropped straight off to empty air. In the first days of the march it occasionally dipped into a high, narrow valley. Stubborn Halleners tried to graze stock in the larger ones. But mostly the road climbed. It jumped over ravines filled with furious spring streams which fell and fell down the crazy distances to the valley below. It hitched itself up steep slopes in endless switchbacks and bulged up over spiny hogbacks.

 “They say this road makes you old. ” Kel marched briskly. He gave the laboring Richard a patronizing glance. “Pretty steep for you lowlanders. You doing all right?”

“Yes,” Richard said. “I can handle. The road. It’s breathing. That’s all. Uphill. “

They reached the Highgap. It was a notch in a looming wall of mountains. Nested in the bottom of the notch was a sign of Valener civilization: a toll station. A high, heavy wall of stone kept the thrifty Halleners from creeping around the center-gate and its toll collectors, but Kel said that miserly travelers sometimes performed daring mountaineering feats to get around the wall.

Larens had given Kel a pass. They left the station and started down the road to the Westfall. Richard saw wave on wave of blue hills. The long ridgelines made a jaggedy staircase all the way down to the northern branches of the Wawee River. The great plateau of Hastablen, which reared up on the other side of the river, was hidden in the hazy distance.

They traveled through the valleys of the Westfall and went into the forest countries. It was obvious that the war was going badly: the foresters greeted them with enthusiasm and relief. The war was crossing the vague boundaries of their little cantons, engulfing all the south. The northern cantons held to an anxious neutrality, hoping that the Hastableners would overlook them. Morik sent reassuring messages to encourage their inactivity.

Kel attempted counter-diplomacy. He and Richard visited the foresters’ leaders in their scattered villages. They tried to persuade them to assemble a unified army. “You put all your people together, add my troopers, and we could have fifteen thousand men. We could hit Morik so hard that he’d run all the way back to Ayventun.”

The foresters were unimpressed. “If this big army’s such a good idea,” one matriarch said, “How come you Valens ain’t putting one together? If these gun things is such a fearsome weapon, how come you don’t go up and whip Morik all by yourself? Seems like Morik only wants to make himself a way to the Westfall, as he’s only taking the biggest valleys and best roads; so I say us that ain’t got the bad luck to be in between him and you should just let him have his roads.” Other foresters agreed. “We make this big army, we’re taking a stand against Morik, so he’s got to come after us. We let him have his roads, and he ain’t got any reason to go creeping up our hills and into our woods.”

            “All right,” Kel said. “How about this? You don’t make your own army, but you let any of your boys that wants to fight join up with me, That way we still got some chance of making an army big enough to whip Morik; but if he wins, you can claim that the foresters in my army was just wild young studs that ran off without your say-so. “

Most of the foresters agreed, allowing or encouraging their young men to join. Kel and Richard spent several weeks sorting them into units and arranging supplies. “This supply thing’s a bitch,” Kel said. “Just as well the foresters didn’t want to make their own army. Getting supplies to that many men across country like this would’ve been too much for these hog-wallers they call roads.”

“I wondered about that,” Richard said. “Did you really want them to field their own army?”

Kel grinned. “No. If they’d made their own army, they’d wanted one of their own people to boss it. You got to give people something to say no to; that way they ended up doing what I wanted without noticing it. So we can march without them nagging at us.”

They marched through terrain as intricate as Kel’s schemes. The massive thrust of the Hightops imposed a linear pattern on the valleys of the Westfall: they were long and evenly spaced. But the contrary pressure of the Hastab plateau had crushed the forest countries into a maze of cut-off hollows and abrupt ridges. Tall trees shaded the hillsides with thick canopies of leaves. The hollows were full of dense undergrowth, sinkholes, and dark ponds trapped by surrounding hills. Little creeks ran out of springs and disappeared back into the ground. Strange animals prowled the hills and valleys.

Kel’s army followed forester guides and hunted for the Hastableners. Morik was sending raiders out far in advance of his main column. The raiders enslaved all the children and young women they caught. They butchered the men and old people or trapped them in burning buildings. The terror-raids frightened the foresters away from the large valleys and important roads, opening an easy path for Morik’s army.

Kel sent cavalry out to chase the raiders. Richard’s shotgunners went along. In the first skirmishes the Hastableners mistook the shotgun cavalry for ordinary light-armed horsemen. They made swift attacks and ran right into the shotgun blasts.

 The foresters were heartened by the skirmishes. There were wild rumors about the Valens’ terrible and irresistible weapons. Foresters came out of the woods to join them; others formed guerilla bands. “I ain’t sure we’re really hurting Morik,” Kel said. “But those shotguns’re sure doing a hell of a lot for the foresters. “

 Then a party of dazed and beaten men came in. They were forester guerrillas, and they were suffering from shellshock. Morik had cannon. “He has muskets too,” Richard said. “But the cannons are the real threat. The foresters say he has twenty of them, and he just lines them up and blazes away. Sometimes he uses round shot – which are solid balls of iron — but mostly he fires case shot. Case is something like a giant shotgun blast. “

Kel grimaced. “That sounds pretty bad.”

“It is. Maybe the archers can keep the muskets away from us. But the cannon… We can dig holes and put up barricades to protect ourselves, but I can’t think of a good way to hit back. You can’t charge into case shot.”

“No,” Kel said. “A giant shotgun blast… I saw what your boys did to those raiders. We’ll have to think up some kind of trick. “

“There is one thing,” Richard said. “Using firearms means a regular supply of ammo. If you could get across Morik’s supply line, maybe you could trap him.”

Kel considered it. “Might be worth a try. Morik always moves hellish fast, so it ain’t likely we can really pin him. Maybe we could make him fight where we want to. With all the horse he’s got, and these cannon things, I sure don’t want him getting on me where he wants to.”

The men of the army marched for a month. They crept through obscure valleys pointed out by the foresters. They pulled their wagons over rough backwoods roads. They never saw a Hastablener. Morik’s plainsbred scouts stayed near the main roads: they were unwilling to follow the easterners into the dark, unfamiliar forests. Kel slipped his army to the west, aiming to get between Morik and his depots on the Wawee River.

But Morik’s scouts patrolled the valleys near his supply route. They spotted Kel’s army and grouped into bands to dog it. A large body of Hastablener cavalry raced up to attack. A mixed barrage of grenades and arrows threw them back. The Hastableners tried to shoot arrows from outside their enemies’ range. But the foresters used bows as tall as a man and arrows as long as their arms. Their big draw and heavy arrows out-ranged the Hastableners’ horseback bows. Kel watched the Hastableners retreat down the valley. “They’re just keeping us busy till Morik comes up. This is going to be the big battle.”

 “Not a bad place for it,” Richard said. They stood on a low saddle which bridged two almost-intersecting ridges. The road to the east ran over it. The valley in front of them was wider than most in the forests. The high ground was wooded, but the valley floor was planted in young corn. The country to the northwest was jumbled by a group of ridges running against the grain of the land; the valley before them was a knothole in the swirling ridgelines. Behind them the ridges straightened out. The steep hogbacks protected their line of retreat.

“So-so,” Kel said. “I believe Morik was hoping his horse could push us into making our stand down where the valley gets wide. But this little saddle ain’t as high and steep as I’d like. I think you’d better start digging in like the way we talked about. I’m going to hide what horse we got behind the ridge.”

Kel went to the top of one of the ridges to overlook the field. Richard got the troops to work. They felled trees and dragged them to form barricades. The soldiers dug foxholes behind the trees. They made communication trenches between the foxholes. The wood and earth barricades covered the saddle and curved up to the top of the enclosing ridges.

Kel returned. “I saw him coming. He’s leading with a big bunch of Blacks, but just behind them is what must be your cannons. There’s twenty — things like two-wheeled carts pulled by big horses. Behind them is about a thousand foot. I figure they must be the fellows with the musket-things.”

 “Sounds likely,” Richard said. “Twenty cannon and a thousand muskets… I hope the cannon aren’t too big.”

Kel looked down the valley. “How far back will they set up?”

 “Just out of our range. The musketeers will probably be just behind and between the cannon. “

 Kel nodded. “Look at what the horse archers’re doing.” They watched them with their glasses. Morik’s light horsemen were pouring in from probing missions. Cavalry filled the other end of the valley. “Covering what Morik’s doing. He’s thinking maybe we don’t know about the cannon.”

The foresters marched out of the shelter of the saddle and stood on its top and face. They shot a few arrows to test the air.

The Hastablener mass stirred. Young bravos rode out to dare the foresters’ arrows. Large groups edged forward behind them. They stopped and turned their heads, listening to something Kel and Richard couldn’t hear. They returned to their positions and stood on the defense.

 “Morik’s here,” Kel said. “He’s the only one could get them to hold like that. I’d better go up and see what he’s doing.”

 Kel took a bugler up to his lookout. Richard stayed with the infantrymen

A runner came down. “Boss says horse’s coming.”

Richard sent the runner off with an acknowledgement. He drew the infantry back into thick lines. The pikemen leveled their weapons. The grenadiers checked their catapults.

Richard ran up the hill to get a better view. The archers were just behind him. They started shooting at the Hastableners. But their range was longer than that of the catapults. Richard waited, judging the distance. He ordered the grenadiers to fire. The fizzing grenades arced into the air. The archers were shooting quickly. The air was full of explosions, bugle calls, and the whizzing hiss of the foresters’ long arrows.

Grenades exploded among the leading Hastableners. The infantrymen prepared themselves to take the charge. The Hastableners slowed. Riders with banners appeared in their front ranks. They waved the banners in a loop and pointed the staffs to the rear. Hastableners bugles were blowing the recall. Most of the Hastableners wheeled their horses in obedience to the banner men. They retreated. A few bravos in the front ranks missed or ignored the recall signals. They charged up to the Valen infantrymen. The first two rows of heavy foot grounded the butts of their long pikes, holding them in a solid fence of inclined points. The swordsmen behind them rested their blades on their shoulders. Some of the charging Hastableners turned prudently away. But a few rode right into the line of pikes. Some were impaled; others were unhorsed when their mounts reared or shied away from the line of pikes. The swordsmen darted out to finish them.

Kel came down from his lookout. “Get them back to their holes and logs. I saw those cannon things being pulled up.” The infantrymen retreated to their barricades. 

             Teams of horses were wheeling the cannon out in front of the screen of horse archers. They turned to point the guns at the Valens. The artillerymen unhitched the horses. Richard turned to look back up the hill. The archers were still standing on the saddle. “Shit! Get those bowmen back in the trees.”

“They can’t shoot as well amongst the trees,” Kel said.

“They’ll shoot even worse if they’re all dead. Where they are, they’re a perfect target for the cannon.”

“Guess I got some new ways of war to learn.” Kel said.

 Richard studied the cannon through his glasses. The mouths of the cannon were a hands width in diameter. The guns were smooth, elegant cylinders of bronze. Their carriages were well-designed. They had proper tails and high, steel-shod wheels. “They look like cast and machined bronze. That means they’ll probably be fast-firing and hard-hitting.”

 “That sounds pretty bad,” Kel said. “Can they hurt us?”

 “I don’t think they can. Not if we keep our heads down. The problem is how we’re going to hit them.”

 The cannon were lined up. The artillerymen worked around them. The musketeers marched up behind the cannon. Light and heavy horse stood ready behind the musketeers.

 Kel studied the Hastablener line. “I figure I’d sneak some archers up along the top of that right-hand ridge. If Morik tries to keep me off it, I’ll take some heavy foot and your shotgunners and push him back. Then we get the bowmen up there and shoot down on those cannons.”

Richard looked at the ridge. “Sounds good. The big catapults should –”

 One of the cannons fired. Everybody jumped. The ball made a strange, droning howl. It thudded into a tree and bounced to the ground. A soldier scrambled out of his trench to get the ball. He dropped it with a surprised yell: it was hot.

Kel went back to his command post. The cannonade steadied to a constant roar. A few of the men entrenched on the saddle were killed or hurt by freak accidents, but most of the balls rammed harmlessly into the timber and earth barricades.

Dan Arnul slithered into Richard’s trench. He was the commander of the heavy infantry: a solid, fiftyish professional. He borrowed Richard’s glasses to look at the Hastablener gunners. “Thought so,” he shouted. “Them’ s constabs. So’re the ones with those musket-things. ” Constabs were the slave-soldiers the Keptas used to police and defend Ayventun. Arnul said their discipline was good but rigid. “Never heard of them corning out of Ayventun before, but I guess they was the only ones Morik could use. hard to see Stableners doing a thing that takes such good drill.”

One of Kel’s runners appeared. “Boss says watch out: Hastablener horse is up to something on your left. He can’t see just what ’cause of the smoke. “

The Hastableners’ black powder was producing a lot of smoke. A light, fitful breeze pushed it to the left side of the valley. A dense cloud hung there; it was slowly creeping up on the Valener line.

 “Shit,” Arnul said. “The stuff’ll cover our front. We won’t be able to see them coming. “

 “Move some of your men,” Richard said. “Strengthen that side of the line. I’ll tend to the grenadiers and shotgunners.”

Richard watched the cannon. The firing on the left side of the artillery line slowed. The gunners seemed to be having some kind of trouble, But Richard could see them with his glasses: they were faking it. Morik had to stop the bombardment to let his cavalry by, but he was trying to keep it from becoming too obvious.

“Get ready,” Richard shouted. “They’re coming.” The heavy infantrymen climbed cautiously out of their trenches. They aligned their pikes and drew their swords.

The runner raced down the hill. “They’re coming! Swarms of lights and looked like Morik’s heavies too.”

The cannonade stopped. In the sudden silence Richard heard and felt the deep rumble of a big cavalry charge. Richard put his hand up and drew it down in an arc. The waiting grenadiers saw the pre-arranged signal. They put their grenades on cocked catapults and launched them. Richard saw the flash of explosions through the smoke. He heard the screams of wounded horses and men. But the Hastableners kept coming. The rumbling thunder of the charge got louder and louder. The ground trembled beneath his feet.

The Hastableners burst out of the smoke. Richard had an instant to see that many of the horses and men were flecked with spots of blood. Then they hit the line.

The swordsmen put their boots on the grounded butts of the pikes. Some leaned against the pikemen’s backs to help them resist the shock of impact. The Hastableners flailed long spears at the pikes, knocking them aside. Others made their horses rear at the pikes or jump over the points. The pikes were too high and long for the horses to clear. They impaled themselves and went down screaming. But they knocked the pikes aside. Their riders jumped off their dying mounts and attacked the pikemen with sabers. The Valener swordsmen fought back. They and the pikemen wore heavy armor; their hardcock swords battered the Hastablener sabers down. The shotgunners fired over their shoulders, filling the air in front of the Valener ranks with lead.

But the Hastableners kept coming. They charged into the lines of pikes at a full gallop. The shotgunners couldn’t reload fast enough. Many of the pikes broke under the weight of rearing or jumping horses. Others were pinned in the bodies of horses or men, Dead and dying horses and men made a bloody, writhing ramp up to the pikemen.

Richard heard shouts and bugle calls. A few arrows hissed overhead. Kel had gotten the archers on the top of the ridge. Richard saw the long arrows go right through men and pin their bodies to their horses. They came so thick and fast that he could see them as a grayish, blurred sleet above the Hastableners. They dimmed the sky over him. The arrows were more devastating than grenades or shotguns. A hundred Hastableners died in a heartbeat. Their attack withered.

Muskets cracked. Richard looked to the right. Morik’s musketeers had marched out in front of the silent cannon. They fired a big line-volley; the sharp clap echoed around the valley. The first-rankers busied themselves with powder, ball, and ramrod. The second rank marched through the first. They fired. More than two hundred muskets went off . The third rank went through the first and second ranks. The first rank marched up to fire again.

The musketeers’ drill was precise and ponderous. They were too far away to hurt the Valens, but they were marching up. A few grenades exploded near their front rank. The musketeers ignored their losses and marched stolidly on. They fired at the rows of Valener infantry standing on the saddle. Richard’s shotgunners tried to shoot back, but they were outranged.

Most of the archers above Richard switched targets directing their fire at the musketeers. The musketeers countered with fire into the forested ridge. Richard heard shouts. “The Blacks! Gray-horse Blacks coming!”

Richard saw them ride through the roiled gunsmoke. They and their horses were armored in black scales and leathers. They carried long lances decorated with ribbons. Every man rode a gray horse. Grenades exploded among them, tearing holes in their lines, but they came on. Their line was straight, their lances level. They rode down the lighthorse in their way. They rode over the bodies of the dead and dying. They hit the battered ranks of Valener infantrymen.

The Blacks smashed into the line. Some of them threw their lances at the waiting pikemen; none made any attempt to avoid the pike-points. They impaled their horses, but they knocked the pikes down. A second rank galloped after them. They speared the disarmed pikemen with their lances, but they died too. The shotgunners and swordsmen cut them down.

A third rank charged after the second. Richard shouted to direct men to the weakest part of the line. The archers above him turned their fire on the cavalry attack. Morik’s heavy troopers were more dangerous than the slow musketeers.

A few men in the third rank broke through the Valens’ crumbling lines. They galloped in among the grenadiers. The Valens swarmed around them with swords and shotguns. The archers shot them down. “Your front!” Richard shouted. “Face your front!” The fourth rank was coming.

More than twenty Blacks spurted through the hole in the Valens’ line. They rode straight up the hill at Richard. He saw their eyes on him; he and those around him saw that they were after him.

 Arnul ran towards him. “To the captain! To Richard! ” The Valens attacked the flanks of the little column. A few threw themselves in its path. Arnul was lanced. The archers were shooting the Hastableners. The shotgunners Richard had gathered fired their weapons. They killed and wounded many of the riders, but they only had one shot. The horsemen lanced and rode them down. Ten Hastableners got through to Richard.

 He was wearing his heavy trooper’s armor. He carried his shield, sword, and shotgun. He fired the shotgun at the first Hastablener. The heavy charge blew the man out of the saddle. His horse buffeted Richard against a tree. The remaining Hastableners attacked him. Most of them had lost their lances getting through the Valens. They drew their sabers and cut at Richard. He fought back with berserk desperation. He blocked most of the blows on his left with his shield. He cut and thrust at the Hastableners on his right with his long sword. The Hastableners made their horses rear and kick at him. Richard had his back to the tree, but he couldn’t stop the hooves which battered at him.

A Hastablener in the tail of the column still had his lance. He charged through the others. His lance was aimed at Richard’s heart. Richard had his shield held up to block saber cuts. He jerked it down. The lance banged into the shield and jumped over the rim. The point punched through his armor and into his shoulder. The impact slammed him against the tree.

Richard dropped his shield. He reached for his wounded shoulder and touched the lance. The Hastablener tried to pull it out to stab him again. Richard held it in his body.

 A second Hastablener stood in his stirrups and cut hard at Richard’s left arm. The heavy saber cut to the bone. The lancer backed his horse and twisted the point out of Richard’s shoulder. Richard fell to his knees. The Hastablener lifted his lance to stab Richard.

But he turned away. Richard heard shouts, bugles, and the rumble of a cavalry charge. The Guardsmen were riding down the hill to counterattack. Kel was leading them. He threw his lance at the Hastablener. The Hastablener brought up his shield and knocked the lance aside. Kel fired his shotgun. He was too far away to kill, but the flying pellets hurt the Hastablener’s horse. The horse shied away from Richard.

The charging Valens swept the Hastableners away. They poured through the hole in the infantry line and engaged Morik’s troopers. Kel cut his horse out of the charge. He shouted and pointed, directing the archers’ fire away from the charge. His bugler blew a series of calls.

Kel rode to Richard. “How’re you doing?”

 “Not so good,” Richard said. Blood was pouring down his arm.

“We’re going to have to get that coat off you. And we can’t cut it off, so it’s going to hurt.”

 Kel and another man pulled the coat off. Richard fainted. When he came to, his arms and shoulders were tightly bound. A wounded grenadier pressed a pad down on Richard’s punctured shoulder. Richard looked around. He couldn’t see the battlefield. “What’s happening? “

“We’re whipping ’em,” the grenadier said. “Horse followed their horse down and got those cannon men.”

 Kel came up. “I’m going to have to move off. Morik’s holding us off with those musket men. I’m going to try to get around him. You’re going the other way. You’ve got about four-five broken bones, so you’ll be out of the fighting for months. Those people really hammered you, Davy; that was some stand you made.

Richard managed a feeble smile. “If I’d had any choice I wouldn’t’ve stood; I’d’ve run.”

Kel laughed. “Well, you ain’t going to be running anywhere for a while. I’ll write you some letters to tell you what happens.”

Kel went off. A party of stretcher-bearers carried Richard over the saddle. They put him in a wagon with other wounded. The wagon started east. Richard fell into a hazy sleep. His wounds ached and grew hot. The long trip was a feverish dream. Some time later he found himself in a small, white-washed room. Laury was there.

“Laury,” he said. His voice was almost inaudible.

“Don’t try to talk.” She held a cup of broth to his lips. “You had a bad fever, but it’s going now. We’re in the Westfall. Kel’s still chasing Morik. You should sleep.”

Laury held his hand. Richard looked at her. He slept. The next morning, he was more alert. He looked out at the Hightops beyond his window. It was a midsummer day.

Laury came in. “How’re you feeling?”

“Terrible,” Richard said. “I hurt all over. What’s wrong with me?”

“Well, three or four of your ribs’re broken; and your arm, collar bone, and shoulder blade. Your left arm’s all cut up, and there’s that place where a lance point went almost through your left shoulder. When they brought you in you were black and blue and kind of greenish all over your body. ” She kissed his uninjured hand. “I was so scared. I thought you were going to die.”

“That was just bruises,” Richard said. “They made their horses kick at me. That must be how my ribs got broken. “

 “Don’t say more,” Laury said. “I don’t want to hear about how they hurt you. Are you hungry?”

Richard grimaced. “No.”

“Well, you got to eat anyway.” She got a bowl of mushy cereal. Richard tried to lift his hand to feed himself, but he soon had to give up and let Laury do it. “It’ll pass,” she said. “You bled a lot, and then you had a fever. It just weakened you.”

Richard swallowed mush. “This stuff is hardly worth the effort. How’s the war going?”

 “Kel sent me a letter, telling about it all. Finish this and I’ll get it.” Laury poked more mush into Richard’s mouth.

She went to get the letter. “Let’s see now…” Laury peered myopically at Kel’s scrawl. “He’s telling me how the battle got started and all. Then he gets to the part where Morik’s horse charged. “

“Don’t read it,” Richard said. “I remember that too well. I think I dreamed about it on the way back. All the horses and men piling up in front of the line, screaming and writhing, the Blacks coming right at me…

“All right. And I don’t want to read the part about how they hurt you. Though Kel says you fought like ten men. “

Richard grimaced, “More like one man as scared as ten.”

“Then he gets to the part where him and the heavies came down the hill. When he came to check you, he says you were in a bad way, but joking about it, saying how you would’ve run if you could.

 “Ha-ha,” Richard said. “I wasn’t joking.”

“Sssh. You shouldn’t be talking so much. Just let me read it. ‘If it’ll make Richard feel any better, tell him that trying to kill him was the one thing that whipped Morik. He fooled me good with those musketmen and cannon coming up. All the while, he was creeping up those Blacks behind all the smoke. I’ve seen the Blacks before, and many a charge, but that was the real beat of the heavy hammer Richard and his boys took. It looked hellish nasty, but the Blacks didn’t make the hole bigger – just went after Richard. Maybe Morik’s got those glasses too, but anyways he saw Richard and sent his gray-horse troop after him. Those’re the best of his best, and he spent them. Without them he didn’t have much left.

“‘But I didn’t either. Our horse got into his cannons and cut them up. Then he lined up his musket men and drove us back. We both keep trying to get around the other’s side, but he’s still faster than us, so the best I can do is sort of herd him back to the Wawee.”