Battledragon (33 page)

The dragons retreated with shields up, but still there were arrows thudding into their shields, ringing off their helmets, slipping through gaps in their armor to lodge in joboquin and flesh.

Then with a scream of silvery cornets the legion cavalry came thundering out of the gate and passed through the dragon formation. Their legion-trained horses were quite used to wyverns, and the troopers were burning to avenge their earlier defeat. With lowered lances, they drove into the Kraheen and tumbled dozens from their saddles in the first shock. The Kraheen recoiled and fell back in disorder, passing out of bow shot.

Now the dragons regrouped in a square and marched back toward the gate, eventually taking up a position just outside it. The first phase of the battle was over.

General Baxander moved swiftly to take advantage of the situation. The enemy host had virtually split itself in two, bisected by the space cleared by the dragon charge. The Kraheen cavalry was the only force left to dispute this zone, and that force had been disrupted as well by the troopers' charge.

The legion cavalry was regrouping quickly, as they were trained to do. The Kraheen horsemen were still in disorder.

Baxander sent two more regiments of foot out of the gate to press into the open space and hold it. Meanwhile he sent a note to the Count of Felk-Habren pointing out the opportunity for a great charge.

Within two minutes the knights were mounted and in motion. They thundered out of the gates and aimed their horses down an avenue opened up by the dragons. The light from the burning siege towers glittered off helm and lance. The Czardhan horses were bred for war, and though the presence of dragons made them nervous, it did not halt them, not in the least. The Czardhans went on in a torrent of huge horses, tall men behind long shields, with the long pennons flowing back from their lances.

They paused a moment to fix themselves on the correct axis for their attack, and when Felk-Habren had seen Baxander's signal, he ordered the horn blown. With a great shout the charge was launched and away it went. A thousand great hulking knights of steel, in a mass one hundred wide and ten deep, went through the enemy cavalry like a hot knife through steam and drove on into the left-hand enemy mass.

The effect was almost as dramatic as the dragon charge. The enemy horde, which had almost stabilized itself from the aftereffects of the dragon attack, was struck a hammer blow on the left side of the main gate. Organization broke down as the Czardhans cut their way into the crowds of men that had already run from the dragons. These men ran again, and disorder spread rapidly.

In the wake of the Czardhans came the legion cavalry, who worked to increase the rout and to fend off any reorganized cavalry response from the Kraheen.

The huge enemy mass began to break up, a section flew off and ran for the hills, terrorized by dragons and giant men on huge horses. Another segment broke down and was cut up by the legion regiments advancing along the walls. The siege engines were burned, the enemy horsemen dispersed.

Still, the enemy mass on the right side of the gate retained cohesion, and even continued the assault on the city walls. But the Koubhans had been enormously heartened by the sight of the legion way of war. Their resistance had grown stouter than ever, and now they fought furiously to deny the Kraheen the slightest foothold on the walls.

Baxander asked the princes of Kassim and the Bakan armies to press attacks against the right hand concentration of the enemy.

The dragons were readied for another stroke.

The small but immaculate armies of the Bakan city states went marching by. Men in silver and green uniforms armed with longbows and spears, other men in bright orange and purple costume, carrying crossbows. The hues were radiant and the various groups seemed filled with fervor. They deployed and advanced. Then the Kassimi horsemen went hurtling by and crashed into the Kraheen formations.

For a few minutes there was a fierce fight, but then it ebbed as the right-side mass of Kraheen withdrew, retreating in some degree of order from the walls. They abandoned their siege engines and rams, but kept formations intact.

The Kassimi charged again and again while the Bakan militias provided archer support and infantry cover.

The split between the two halves of the enemy army grew to a mile and then to two. Baxander kept the legion cavalry at work, harrying the retreating left-side mass while the Czardhans were reorganized and more foot regiments were brought through and set forward in pursuit.

Baxander allowed himself a whoop of triumph. The first real brush with the enemy had given him a victory. The legions had proved their worth and the allied forces had all contributed in good measure. The Czardhans might be so happy with their performance that they would drop their own debilitating internal conflicts for a few days.

Then he steadied. The enemy had tried a bold stroke, attempting to negate his two most powerful weapons. He had used them anyway and broken the enemy army in half. There was still the formidable job ahead of catching the leftside half and completely destroying it. There had been much slaughter already, there would have to be more before he could really claim victory.

The dragons, however, had done their part for now. With the enemy in headlong retreat, this was a task for cavalry, working with infantry and the archers. If the enemy steadied anywhere, then the Czardhans would be used to shatter them.

The surprise assault on the city had been met and broken. The swathe of dismembered men was left to mark the point of impact.

After an hour of standing around, slowly cooling down, cutting arrows out of dragonhides and joboquins, the dragons were ordered back to their quarters.

Back through the gate they marched, Dragon Leader Wiliger at their head. Relkin felt oddly depressed. Such slaughters did not improve his mood. On some obscure level, he believed that men should never be put at risk of such an attack. It was damned poor generalship.

Dragon Leader Wiliger, on the other hand, was bursting with pride. His face was flushed, and his stride was bouncy. The battle had been won in a matter of minutes by the murderous efficiency of his dragon squadron, along with a few others. Even more important, he had made it right through the battle and had witnessed the whole thing. He had been "blooded" by battle. True, he had hardly raised his sword in anger, or even given an order, but Wiliger was not concerned; it was enough that he could now say that he had fought with the dragons in a major battle, indeed, in a great victory.

Back in the stables Relkin carefully cleaned the remaining scrapes and scratches on his dragon's hide and pulled five arrows out of the back of the joboquin. Then he went down to fetch some freshly baked biscuits, slathered in butter and salt, for the dragon and himself. He met Jak, Swane, and Endi, who were on their way back. The fresh-baked biscuits smelled delicious. He was astonished at his own hunger. They ate, the dragon ate prodigiously, and then they fell soundly asleep.

They missed the arrival of the batrukh, which flew in at dawn, causing a sensation in the town.

It was another tropical afternoon, warm, muggy, with the sun obscured by a vault of white cloud. The dragons of the 109th Marneri were bivouacked at the side of a muddy track near a large village.

The village had been burned by the retreating Kraheen, and the well had been filled with the bodies of the villagers.

Dragonboys were busy fetching water from a nearby stream. Other dragonboys were stoking a fire with which to boil such water. On the advice of the witch Endysia, all water was to be boiled whenever possible, before drinking.

Relkin, by a fluke, had avoided extra water details for the past few days. After fetching a load of wood he had free time.

Dragon Leader Wiliger was away at General Baxander's headquarters for the daily staff meeting. While he was gone, a dragonboy with free time on his hands could, in theory, relax.

Relkin knew better than to even try. There were a dozen small, nagging jobs that needed to be attended to, and so he dug out his sewing bag and threaded a needle with his best Cunfshon' twist. First up was the attachment of the left side strap on his own pack. He'd been holding it together with pins for two days, ever since it had given way while he was putting his shoulder to the wheel of the cook wagon where it had been bogged in thick mud. The strap itself was pretty worn, it was more than a year old and had seen continuous hard use since they'd landed at Sogosh. He whistled tunelessly as he threaded his needle in and out of the leather and the canvas of his pack.

He was sitting under a poong tree, using its outsprung roots as a chair. The dragon lay with the other dragons, in the shade of a grove of gums and poongs. They had marched six miles that morning, struggling along the muddy tracks that were all they had as roads. They were glad of a rest, but they were all in peak condition. Since leaving Koubha three days before, they'd seen no action, no sign of the enemy except for occasional parties of prisoners and burned villages, decorated with the corpses of their inhabitants. The regimen of marching ten to twelve miles a day fully laden, eating three large, simple meals, and drinking nothing but boiled water was perfect for honing dragon condition to a sharp edge. In fact, the dragons were contented, although they grumbled a lot about the lack of beer and the heat. However, during this phase of the campaign the marching schedule was light, and thus they rested during the worst part of the day and marched on into the evening before stopping for dinner and sleep.

The recent battle was already receding from their discussions. They were vastly more interested in the lands of the interior toward which they marched. The burning question now in the legion rumor mills was that of their ultimate destination. Were they just pursuing this Kraheen army until it finally disintegrated? Or were they going all the way to the Nub al Wad, beyond the Ramparts of the Sun, in the Lands of Terror? There was constant debate.

Relkin bit off the thread and tested the strap hold. It was tight and strong. He checked the rest of the pack, and finding a tear on the left side pocket, he took up more thread and set to work.

While the needle flashed through the fabric, his thoughts flew away to Eilsa. He'd sent a last letter from Koubha. They'd been told that from there on the likelihood of mail getting back to the Argonath was low. In his letter he'd told her of his love and of his hopes for the future. He never mentioned the possible destinations of the expedition; he knew such things would be censored after he handed it in. Nor did he mention the subtle fears that played on his mind. His worst, as always, was mutilation. In battle behind dragons, the sudden loss of a hand or a head was always possible. Instead, he concentrated on the future, when they would be together, he retired from legion service, she wed to him, and they would work together with Bazil to build a prosperous life as farmers in Kenor. Now he thought about that rosy future and prayed that it might come about. If old Caymo and the other old gods heard his prayers, then perhaps they'd reward him at the last. If the Great Mother was listening, then he prayed that she wouldn't be too angry with him for praying to the old gods. He was just a dragonboy trying to cover the odds.

Ever since the battle of Sprian's Ridge, Relkin had been vaguely worried over what might lie ahead of him. At that battle, he had fulfilled the destiny foretold for him. What could be left? Now that he was no longer needed by the Great Ones, was anyone looking out for him? Did the gods or the Great Mother hear his prayers? He was so engrossed in these thoughts that he never saw his visitor until she knelt down beside him.

He looked up to a familiar face.

"Lagdalen!"

"Relkin." They embraced. He held her in his arms for a moment and studied her face. There was a gauntness there, with lines beneath the eyes and around the mouth that he had never seen before.

"You have traveled far," he said in a suddenly somber voice.

"I have, and I have seen things that I would rather not have seen, but I am alive and I am here."

"Yes!" He hugged her again. "But how did you know where we were?"

"It wasn't that difficult to find the fighting 109th! We arrived last night and the Lady has been in one meeting after another, and she doesn't need me for those. All high strategy and generals and kings, you know."

Relkin nodded, eyes shining at the thought of the councils of the most high.

"So I asked where the Marneri dragons would be and borrowed a horse and found my way over here. It wasn't far, in fact, no more than an hour along the road."

Over her shoulder Relkin saw a fine white horse.

"And how goes the battle? We hear only rumors."

"Very well, everyone at headquarters was confident of completing the victory. The enemy is in flight, and we are harrying him as hard as possible. The Bogoni have been very active. Everyone had praise for King Choulaput."

Relkin was glad to hear this news. He knew the king had been much crestfallen by his defeat by the Kraheen before the arrival of the legions. He and his army would be out to exact the fullest measure of revenge.

"And Captain Kesepton?"

Her face fell. "Ah, yes, my husband. Well, I missed him. He has gone off with a diplomatic mission to the King of Pugaz. He will probably not return in time to rejoin us. So I will not see him for I don't know how long. It can be vexing at times, this life of ours."

"But he is well? I have not seen him in many weeks."

"As far as anyone can tell me, my husband is well. Someday I hope to be able to confirm this with my own eyes. Someday I would like to return to my home and my baby and stay there with her and never leave my home again."

Relkin smiled, somehow it seemed unlikely that Lagdalen of the Tarcho would ever be granted this wish. She saw his smile and allowed a sly smile to creep across her face.

"Well, perhaps not for ever." They laughed.

"Oh, Lagdalen, you must tell me about the things you've seen."

"That would take a long time, Relkin, for I have seen so much since we last spoke aboard the
Barley
, and I don't think we will have very long this time."