Authors: Jo Walton
Tags: #Thirteenth century, #General, #Science Fiction, #Historical, #Women soldiers, #Fiction
Morthu has leaned on the queen's strength and pride, and her doubts that she is worthy to be loved, or to be your queen, when she has given you no children." Darien looked so angry I wouldn't have been surprised if his eyes had flashed fire, the way they do in stories.
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"She knows that doesn't matter, that isn't what's important," Urdo said.
"You might have told her so, but she still feels she's failed you that way," Darien said. "It's a weakness and a way in for him. He is so good at finding the little cracks in the wall we have built, and using them to force a knife blade, and after it an army."
"He won't succeed," Urdo said. "There's one thing I've learned in this war, and these truce talks, which is how well we have all learned Peace, how well it is rooted in all of us. We will fight this battle, and this war, and we will win in the end because Morthu is one man and his cause is only his own. He may have stuck his knife blade into our small cracks, but he only persuades by his own sorcery. The gods are on our side." He looked at me and grinned, though his face was still wet with tears. "Remember the night before Foreth? When I die, you have to take her back my sword."
"You're no more likely to die tomorrow than in any battle," I said gruffly.
"And no less," he agreed. "The risk is always there. I've always taken it, even when Mardol and the others called me foolhardy to fight in the line myself. It's necessary, I told them. Life is in the moment when you're living it, one moment at a time. If the Peace was to be anything, it could not all rest on one man. But all the time I have known that if I die then my Peace would break with me. Before Foreth, I felt sure we would win, but I did not know what victory you could make without me, if I fell, and still I fought. But now, it is different.
There are enough of you I trust that no matter if I am here or not I feel sure the Peace will go on without me, which is how it should be. I have never tried to make bargains with Fate, but I have always felt that she is not opposed to the Peace. Seeing it spreading, my work is done, if need be."
"It would be better with you," I managed to choke out.
"And I would rather live to see it," he agreed calmly.
"I wish you'd let me fight Morthu," Darien said. "One man or not, he's a sorcerer and ruthless and powerful."
"We'll have to see how the battle goes tomorrow," Urdo said. "Full tactical conference in the morning before we move into position to fight at noon."
As I stood up to leave, I thought that something about the tent seemed different. I looked around, and caught sight of the box Urdo used to carry papers. It was closed, and the top was completely empty.
—18—
Before Gorai, defender against tyranny, I saw war horses covered with blood.
After the howl of battle-cries the green grass grows long.
Before Gorai, defender against the heathen, I saw a mighty shield wall steel swords clashing.
After the howl of battle-cries plenty of time to think.
Before Gorai, defender against dissension, I saw the thick of the fight many killing, many being killed.
After the howl of battle cries time to sleep easy.
—"Gorai ap Custennin" by Aneirin ap Erbin
At the end of our discussion after a skirmish or an exercise, Osvran would always finish off by saying, "Right.
And we're not going to make the same mistakes again, are we?" And we'd all chorus, "No, Praefecto!" I can see us now, Galba looking thoughtful, ap Erbin slim and with both his ears, and Enid grinning because there was always something she couldn't resist. There is so much of that training I have not set down, so many happy times. All the same, it is Agned I must write about. Agned, and mistakes that shouldn't have been made and were, beyond hope of
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getting it right next time, because there isn't always another chance.
Agned, not happy days; Agned, whether it's easy or not, however many excuses I find to sharpen my pen and moisten the ink and stare out of the window dreaming and wondering when the flax will be ripe. The battle of Agned happened fifty-five years ago. It hasn't been possible to change it in all that time. Anyone might think I would have got used to that by now.
The River Agned rises in the hills of Segantia; it runs down into the Tamer, and thus to the sea past Caer
Tanaga. The river is navigable. There were occasional Jarnish raids up it in times when the raiders were very bold. I suppose it might have been fordable if you were prepared to go to a little trouble. But there was no need. The highroad from the west crosses it at a solid stone bridge called the Agned Bridge. There is a farmhouse there that was ruined in the wars and patched up again clumsily. I used to stop there to water the horses when I was riding from Derwen to Caer Tanaga, and I would sometimes exchange a few words with the farmers, and buy bread from them if they had been baking. If it hadn't been for that I doubt I would even have known the river's name. But now I will never forget it, though the name means the battle and not the river.
It's not an easy battle to remember in order. It began at dawn with a tactical meeting in Urdo's tent. A fine haze of rain was falling. The camp was breaking up around us as we spoke, the tribunos and decurios getting everyone in order. Almost everyone but the sick and wounded was going forward with us, even the doctors.
Those of the wounded who could walk would have to look after the others. Mother Teilo was the only person staying who could sing the elder charm.
Cadraith had gone up to the battle site the day before with Raul and Father Cinwil to view the ground. He told us about it; the road, the river, the gently rolling slopes, forested on the heights.
He drew a detailed plan of it, and we agreed where we would draw up our troops.
"After we charge there's going to be a gap at the end of our line here, across the road," ap Erbin said, putting his finger on the spot. "An ala could come up there and turn the line."
"Maybe we could put the wagons there," Ohtar said. "The ones that have been coming up from Caer Segant with supplies. That would make a defensible point, if there were some troops there, too."
"A good place for some of the militia," Cadraith said.
"You said the rest of the Tanagan infantry go with us in the middle?" Ohtar said, moving his finger over the drawing. "Are you sure they all understand how Jarnsmen fight? They will stay with us? They will follow orders?"
"I talked to my troops about it last night," Rowanna's captain said. "Half of them are Jarnsmen themselves, and I have made sure the rest understand."
"Then we will put the militia of Derwen around the wagons," Urdo said. Raul made a note.
"They know the ala signals," I said. Raul noted that, too.
"I've fought with Tanagan levies before," Alfwin said. "They do startle easily, but there's not much chance of them breaking and running if we're in the center."
"I am glad you are here. I could wish Guthrum had come," Ohtar muttered, smiling at Rowanna's captain, who smiled back a little shakily. He was a Tanagan, not a Jarn. "Arling is here in strength, and by now Ayl will have brought up all his troops."
"I wish we could have made Ayl see sense," said Darien wistfully. Then he shook his head.
"Sorry. Where were we? Who else is in the center?"
"My people," Emer said. "We will be next to Alfwin."
"I think the folk of Dun Morr who are mounted could look to the defense of the road and the carts, with the
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Derwen levies," Urdo said. Emer looked as if she was about to object. "It's essential to have some strong defense there, and you're used to each other," he went on. She subsided. "And that way it'll be all infantry in the center."
"And we Isarnagans will be on the left, with the slope down to the boggy ground in front of us,"
Atha said. She looked most alarming, being normally dressed, but with her hair limed and her face and arms already painted.
She had not brought her captain this morning.
"I'm sure you can hold the left," Urdo said, and smiled encouragingly. "The alae will begin on the right, mobile, and ready to go where they're needed. Just give them room if they need it. If they don't shift them with the first charge, we'll rally, and I'll try to hold the second one back until there's a really good moment to shift the other side."
I stared down at the drawing. I had slept badly. I had learned late how to wield an ala as one weapon, even though an ala trains together and uses the same weapons and knows the signals and commands as second nature. These troops didn't even all speak the same language, but Urdo could see them all as one weapon to strike the blow he wanted struck.
"What about the farm?" I asked.
"The farmers have left it," Raul said.
I knew it had come to that, and I could imagine it only too well; the little family fleeing, clutching their children and livestock. I hoped they had somewhere to go. "Not that," I said, putting the thought of the breaking of
Urdo's Peace as far out of my mind as I could. "I meant to say that it's here, down the slope from where we said we would put the wagons. Won't it be in our way when we charge?"
"Only if we go straight down," Urdo said. "We can go around, down the center."
"And from where will you direct the battle?" Atha asked.
"We will make a command post here," Urdo said, pointing to a spot uphill from the main Jarnish line. "I will be there with scouts and signalers. I would rather be mobile with my ala, but in a battle like this, I need to be able to see it all."
"That is wise," Darien said.
"Take some strong defenders in case they get through," Alfwin said, very firmly.
"I will have bodyguards there, of course," Urdo said. "But right up here is well out of anyone's path."
"I will send you some more bodyguards," Ohtar growled, and I saw the other infantry commanders raising their chins in agreement.
It seemed to take all day moving everyone up to Agned and getting in position. It was raining harder, and the grass was wet and slippery. The other side was doing the same, shifting about, getting ready for noon. They also took up a position about three quarters of the way up the slope opposite us. I wondered why it always
had to be charging uphill. There was no sign of Angas. The troops I could see clearly all seemed to be Cinon and Flavien's militia. There were very few banners flying on the other side, in marked contrast to every other time I had seen them. I wondered about it idly. I could see Ayl's red-ribboned standard way over to the other side, on the bridge, but that was the only clear signal of identity, though there were clearly Jarnish troops behind the militia in several places. Directly in front of us I could see some Narlahenan horses, and some war machines. I squinted at them through the rain. One of them looked like the way An-tonilla described a javelin-hurler. Others were clearly stone-throwers. They looked as if they belonged on a city wall, not on a battlefield.
"Are we going to have to charge at those?" Govien asked, seeing me looking.
"If we do, we'll be going too fast for them to hit us before we hit them," I said, as reassuringly as I could.
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Raul went down in the rain to confer with Father Cinwil, and came back. I noticed that Father Cinwil was riding one of the old greathorses we kept at Magor for teaching recruits to ride, a black mare blotched with white unkindly known as "Old Cloak," because she fitted anyone but not very well. I wondered who had said he could take her. I almost rode over to ask Nodol if he knew, before I realized what a ridiculous thing it was to be worrying about.
I made sure my ala ate the food they had brought with them, and dealt with the last-minute rash of problems.
I sang the elder charm over three armigers who thought they might be coming down with fever.
Then, at last, we got the signal to mount, and got into position, in front of the wagons.
Just before noon, Raul and Father Cinwil rode down, exchanged a few words, and rode back up toward their own sides. As Raul reached us, he turned his horse to face the enemy. He waited for Father Cinwil to do the same on his side, Old Cloak taking her time as always. Then, when they were facing each other, they each threw down the herald's branch they carried, and that was the signal that the truce was over and the battle had begun.
Almost at once the signal came for us to charge. In that one moment there seemed to be freedom and the chance to make a difference. I could almost forget that I needed to direct the whole ala and see it all as an extension of my spear. They were waiting for us, ready and defiant, and we were charging uphill, and against a hail of thrown spears and stones. All the same, we made an impact on them. However good infantry are, they can't withstand a five-ala charge without noticing it. The front row went down under the impact, but the men behind had long spears and did not break. As soon as the charge had stalled I signaled for the rally banner to be flown, and heard from the trumpets that the other alae were doing the same. Soon we were back up the ridge again. To my surprise I had been right; most of us had gone too fast for the war machines. We had only lost two riders in Galba's Ala, with half a dozen more wounded.
Meanwhile Ohtar and Alfwin and the rest of the central infantry block had advanced under the cover of our charge, and were attacking to the left and center. They seemed to be doing well at first, but then to my horror
I saw fire erupting into their lines. There were more war machines down there. Each warrior who was touched by the evil clinging fire burned up, as Geiran and Morwen had burned at Caer Lind, burning everyone they touched. I had not known machines could work sorcery. I had to look away. I took a drink from my water bottle and caught ap Madog's eye. "Is there a word for more horrible than horrible?" he asked. I shook my head, sickened.