Much Fall of Blood-ARC (53 page)

Ban Alescu doubted that many people would believe it. Or that Emeric cared whether they did or not.

He sniffed again. He absolutely could not smell anything beside the cloves in the pomander he toyed with. He really must make plans . Ones which would oblige his overlord. He was afraid to do otherwise.

* * *

The wyverns had begun to roam, and to hunt on their own. But it was raining. She could have brought them food. They licked their lips and looked at her, considering.

Dana had grown accustomed to them by now. She knew that they were dangerous and capricious. But she liked them anyway, and they, it would seem, liked her too. "A bit of rain won't melt you. And Angelo says that you need to learn to hunt or you will be reliant on others always."

"Hunting is good. But the rain makes it harder smell prey."

"And winter is coming, Radu says. We need to be fat before winter. So do you."

Winter was coming, and despite the Wyverns and the fascination of the strangeness of their hosts, Dana was beginning to long for the comforts of a real bed and a home. She also wondered when Grigori and Miu would be back, and what news they would bring from her brother. She wondered just what he would be like.

Armor protected a knight. They tended to love it, despite the weight, the layers of padding, the inflexibility, the smell and the temperatures inside it. A knight in armor was worth twenty peasant levy footmen, and four light cavalry. Of course, they did not really approve of firearms. Besides the flux, the other thing a knight in armor dreaded was rain.

Right now, Erik welcomed it. It was mixed with flurries of sleet. Delightful! Absolutely wonderful! Even if only David, in Kari's old hooded cloak really had a chance of staying half-dry. To think that the boy had been roasting in it only a few weeks ago.

It was just what a large party of horsemen attempting to hide from a far larger search party needed. They consolidated the two parties of knights, when the rain started. Visibility was terrible and there was no point in losing each other. They'd had to stop to rest and where possible change horses. You couldn't expect even an enorous warhorse to carry something the size and weight of Manfred and his armor for too long.

Rain found its way into the cracks and chinks of the spike-shouldered armour, into the quilted liner. A cloak only helped so much. Erik flexed and moved as much as possible. Sighed. They'd have to stop and oil joints soon. As soon as they could find a good spot. But hopefully this would discourage the pursuit. He said as much to Bortai.

Bortai crushed that hope. She shook her head. "It will make you harder to follow yes. But they will know which direction you are going now. They will follow hard. We still have many leagues to go."

"About how many?"

She shrugged. "I think it should be possible to reach Hawk lands in about three days if we continue to travel as fast we are now. But they may follow us even there. Our clan will be weakened and in disarray from what happened at the kurultai."

They'd done a day, perhaps a day and half of traveling so far. Even in the rain, that was a lot to ask of their luck.

"Once we cross the Iret river . . ."

That was another drawback to traveling across this country meant for grazing. Not only had the Mongols indulged in widespread tree-clearing, there were very few bridges over the rivers. They'd had to engage in two very dangerous exercises in fording, and Erik was afraid of getting trapped against a natural barrier like that again. "This river . . . is it very . . ." He struggled for the word. "Fat?"

She chuckled. It was a very infectious chuckle. Warm and . . . well comfortable. And right now that was very welcome. "Wide." She said. "It has some fords and an old Roman bridge. I will find them for you. I know that country well."

Erik wished he knew this country well too. But the best he could do was to deploy scouts. He had them in layers. Knights innermost, Tulkun and Bortai, next, and Kari ranging ahead. He had done some of the latter ranging too. But in this rain it was hard to even guess the lay of the land. He was about to ride out a bit further, when Kari rode up. "How am I supposed to keep my powder dry in this? There is a river ahead, with a decent ford a little east of us. I might have seen some riders lurking there. It's hard to tell the difference between a horse and a man and a tree in this."

The hairs on the nape of Erik's neck lifted. A ford—a good one—was a perfect place for an ambush. It forced the knights to use one spot, and it would slow the horses down, if they were forced to charge, or tried to flee. "Scout upstream. I'll send Kirsten and Wellmanns downstream. We'll halt here for a bit of a rest. We're overdue for one."

Kari came back a little later. "You can force it about a half a mile upstream. Not easily or safely. By the trail the ford is where most people cross. But that tree I saw . . . It has moved.

"Hmm. Do you think that tree saw you?"

Kari nodded. "I'd guess. I went to the water's edge. Trotted part of the way in."

The two knights returned. "We saw a Golden Horde scout. There is a small settlement a little way downstream. Just a few huts."

That was rare enough in this country. The Golden Horde had taken a very different attitude to the Ilkhan. The Ilkhan kept the cities of the land they'd conquered. They made relatively tolerant overlords, apparently. They were certainly pleasant enough in Outre Mer. Here, at least, the Golden Horde seemed to have allowed very few of the cities or even villages to survive—at least that they'd seen so far. Erik resolved to ask Bortai about it. Later. "Any boats at this little settlement?

"Looked like there might be. That was probably why there was a scout."

Erik went back to confer with Manfred. "I don't suppose you've found an inn with good mulled wine and eager serving wenches?"

"No, but an ambush on the river. And we'll have to cross it. No easy way around, and we can't afford too much time looking for one. Besides, they probably be guarded too. And the scouts almost certainly know we're here."

"It's what I'd have done, in this weather," admitted Manfred. "Well, there is a world of difference between being surprised in ambush and riding into one ready and primed."

"There is Kari's ford, upstream."

Manfred shook his head. "I know that mad Vinlander. His idea of a dangerous ford is most people's idea of swimming. And men in armor don't swim."

"We could put a rope across. We have some rope."

"It'd take too long, Erik. By the time we had half the men across the Mongol would have heard the commotion, and come riding up both banks. We'd be divided and worse off than riding into their ambush. "

"I was worried about that. Well, what I'll do is to put a few men across—and then we'll ride into the ford . . ."

"I'll ride into the ford. You take Kari and the horse-boy and the girl and her brother across. Tulkun. Maybe a dozen others. And then we'll ride across the ford. Nothing takes the wind out of an ambush as badly as being attacked from behind, when you're the one supposed to be taking someone by surprise."

Erik liked the idea of leaving Manfred not at all. But, he was forced to acknowledge, the small group attacking the ambushers would need a very decisive and effective commander. Charging into the ford simply meant giving the order. So that was what they did.

The other 'ford' Kari had found was merely a slightly shallower place in the river. But the water, though high, was not that fast moving. Kari and he (as soon as they were across an exercise complicated by Kari's needing to remove hand-cannons from various spots that would get wet, and put them in an oilskin bag), took up positions upstream and downstream, watching for patrols. Erik brought some twenty knights across, having chosen men with stronger horses and of smaller stature. It was still a tricky, slow exercise. It had taken them the better part of an hour, and they were all very wet. Kari was fussing about his firearms and his powder. Von Thiel would be too, Erik knew. The bombardier had his little cannon—barely worth calling that, but the bombardier loved it—strapped onto a spare horse. Erik had wondered about leaving it behind. But it could yet be a little surprise for their foes, and besides, it had not been worth arguing with Von Thiel about.

They rode quietly downstream towards the main ford. As with most complex plans something went wrong . . . A pair of Mongols on horseback. They, however, were just as surprised . . . and had little time to do anything about it. Kari didn't even get his beloved wheel-lock pistols out. Bortai and her brother had both had arrows on the string, and let fly as soon as the vague shapes in the rain resolved into figures. They were very accurate; two riderless ponies shot off into the storm.

Bortai did not turn so much as a hair. The boy looked quite pale, but not as pale as his companion. David's eyes were wide and frightened as they rode past the corpses. "The horses will tell them there is a problem," said Bortai, fitting another arrow as if she did this every day of her life. Erik thought about how he had worried about her scouting for them. And felt a little foolish. "No matter. They'll have enough problems soon. The main ford didn't look very deep, and Manfred will take the knights into it at speed, if I know the man. He'll not wait for us. We should hear the shouts any moment now."

And a few moments later, they did.

They rode hard themselves, pushing their horses. Erik did not like to do that, with the cold of the water in their muscles, but there was no help for it. And then, they were practically on top of the ambushers firing arrows at the charge. Kari cursed as one of his pistols misfired. The second did not. And the ambushers, who had dismounted and hidden in a brake of hazel on the upstream side of the ford, found themselves the ambushees, caught between two sets of foes. The rain made it even more uncertain, hard to guess at numbers. The Golden Horde, taken at a disadvantage or no, were consummate warriors, even trapped between two sets of attackers. A knight on Erik's left went down, and then a second. The air was full of the sounds of battle. It was bitter hand-to-hand conflict. But the attack from their undefended flank had cost the Mongol warriors dearly. For one they were cut off from their horses, tethered further back, and for a second thing the two-pronged attack had allowed the charge across the ford to gain full momentum and get the van of the knights across and among the dismounted Mongol . . . and they were not able to retreat and mount because of the second attack. On horseback or at range they were deadly opponents. On foot with the heavily armored horses and knights, they were at a huge disadvantage. Still. It was grim work, and not as one-sided as it could have been. Nor was it as complete as it could have been. Some—not many—of the Mongol managed to get to their horses. Despite the flanking encirclement by Von Gherens and his van platoon, in the misty rain, at least one managed to escape.

Erik saw that Bortai had dismounted and was methodically cutting throats. He swallowed. This was no tame and delicately reared girl from the soft lands of Europe. "Gather our wounded and dead and lets move out!" yelled Manfred. "We'll see to wounded when we're in a defensible position."

"Get their horses," added Erik.

They stopped on a hillock some half a mile off. "They're onto us now," said Manfred, listening. There was a distant sound of horns.

"Yes. But we're outside their cordon, I think. They will have to chase us, and we have another forty four horses."

"And we are down four knights. And Hunsen is not likely to survive. And I have another nine wounded," said Falkenberg grimly.

"Fit to ride?

Falkenberg shrugged. "We will tie them in the saddle if need be. I think they would get little mercy from our foes, judging by the conduct of the woman."

Kari, in the act of repriming his pistols paused and grinned. "She'd fit right in on the Vinland plains. I could get to like these people."

Erik had to admit to himself that he could get to respect them, anyway.

* * *

Bortai had done her duty, as a good Mongol should. But she too was re-assessing how she regarded these foreigners. She'd built up some respect before, when they had responded to the attack on Kildai, and when they'd broken out of the orkhan's camp. Now her attitude was beginning to border on awe. True, this was this Prince Manfred's Khesig. They had opened up that ambush like an over-ripe melon. She had been through ambushes before. The North-East frontier with the half-bloods and clans that had fallen under the sway of the Grand Duke had seen to that.

She rode over to her little brother. He had seen some actual conflict before, riding with father. He was drooping in the saddle. "He needs to rest, great Lady," said David, without a hint of his normal cheekiness.

She bit her lip. "If he rests now, it will be in the grave."

Still, she was desperately afraid: if he didn't rest now, it might be in a grave anyway. And they were so close . . . It was hard to be sure, but she would guess that they were somewhere between four and seven leagues from the Hawk-clan lands. Surely the clan had scouts out? But would they aid a party of foreign knights?

* * *

Examining the state of his forces, Erik weighed the possibilities. It was getting on into the late afternoon, he judged, although it was hard to tell in the black weather. Time, in a monastery somewhere, for Vespers. He could use some quiet prayer and reflection . . . and a meal and some rest. He took a deep breath. "They expect us to run, Manfred."

"I would expect that, too," said the Prince. "So shall we go back to that little settlement and see if they have an inn. With beer, food and beds?"

Erik shook his head. "It's an idea with merit, despite the fact you said it as a jest . . . I hope."

"Well my best real hope is that the rain slacks off soon. Anyway, a hamlet here would probably only offer us fleas."

"There were some cliffs upstream of where we crossed. We might find some shelter there. A cave or something," offered Kari.

"It'd be a big cave to take all of us. But yes, that is what we'll do. Double back a little, rest up, rest the horses and maybe even organize a little food. It will be dark soon. And five or six hours will make a lot of difference to the battle condition of the men, and give us a chance to treat the wounded, and bury our slain with honor."