Page 88 of The Infernal Battalion

“Nobody seems to know,” Abby said. “We didn’t capture any of them alive, not one. And the Vordanai soldiers from other regiments just know they’re some kind of personal guard for Janus, but not the name of their unit or how many there are.”

It feels wrong. Janus’ old Mierantai Volunteers had been almost fanatical in their master’s defense, but he didn’t think even they would have thrown away their lives like that. It has to be magic. He wished Raesinia were here. Cyte knows. Maybe I can talk to her about what she’s seen.

That would have to wait for tomorrow, though. The light was draining from the sky, and fatigue from the day’s fighting dragged at Marcus’ limbs like lead weights. He made his apologies to Abby, and she saluted and left the tent. Once she was gone, the full force of exhaustion fell on Marcus, and he barely made it to his bedroll before he was asleep.

The drums woke him what felt like minutes later. He sat up with a groan, blood pounding in his head. Before he managed to push himself to his feet, there was a scratch at the tent flap.

“Sir?” Cyte’s voice, sounding inhumanly good-​natured for this early in the morning. “Are you awake?”

“Getting there,” Marcus said. Maybe I’m getting old.

Blessedly, Cyte had brought coffee. His favorite was still Khandarai style, dark and thick with a kick like a mule, but when he was feeling fragile he had to admit the milder Vordanai variety had its appeal. Breathing in the rich scent and taking the first few scalding sips had an almost magical effect, and by the time he reached the bottom of the cup he felt almost human again. Cyte stood to one side, quietly watching his transformation.

“Thank you,” he said. “I needed that.”

She smiled only slightly. “Of course, sir.” Has she been taking lessons from Fitz?

“Everything on schedule?”

“We should be ready to break camp in the next half an hour, sir.”

“I’d like to have a word with the colonels before we take the command tent down.”

“I’ll let them know, sir.”

Within a few minutes, they had all gathered: Abby, Sevran, de Koste, and Blackstream, Erdine for the cavalry and Archer for the artillery. Cyte joined them, too, and stood quietly by the tent flap. Even the large command tent felt crowded with so many gathered around the table.

“In another half an hour, we’ll start our advance,” Marcus said. “We’re the far right of the line, so our flank should line up on the Pale. Colonel Blackstream, that’s you. Colonel Giforte, the First Regiment will be skirmishing in front. Colonel Sevran, you’ll be on our left. General Warus’ division is next in line, so make sure to maintain contact.”

He drew their attention to the map. The field on which the battle would be fought—​always assuming there was a battle, of course—​was roughly triangular, a wedge formed by the convergence of two rivers. The top was the wide, deep Pale, uncrossable except at a bridge. The bottom was the smaller Daater, narrower but still a significant barrier. The city of Alves with its fortifications occupied the tip of the wedge, pointing west. The open end of the triangle was held by Kurot’s army, stretching in a line from Satinvol on the Pale to the Daater. Somewhere in that narrowing triangle, Janus’ army was waiting for them.

On the map, a position somewhat ahead of the line was marked in pencil. That was where Val’s Third Division had made camp the night before. They’d marched farther than expected, surprised by the lack of resistance. Now they were dangerously overextended, and Marcus was glad Kurot was moving quickly to bring the rest of the army up in support. He tapped the map with his finger.

“We’re to advance into line with the Third Division, then hold position and wait for orders.” He looked around the room at the colonels. “General Kurot knows we fought hard yesterday, and he’s planning to make the main effort with his left.” The two divisions there, under de Manzet, hadn’t fired a shot the day before. “Our job is just going to be to hold the line and keep Janus’ left in play. No heroics, understand?”

“We seem to be stretched a little thin,” Blackstream said, frowning at the map. “Kurot hasn’t left much of a reserve.”

“He hasn’t got a choice,” Sevran said. “It’s a wide front, and he has to cover it or else risk Janus slipping past.”

“It’ll narrow as we advance,” Erdine said. “We’ll be fine.”

“None of that is our concern,” Marcus said. “Let General Kurot worry about it. We need to make sure everything goes well here. You should all have the written copies of your orders. Any questions?”

There was a brief silence.

“Well, then,” Marcus said. “Let’s get moving.”

*

Dawn broke to find the division on the move, long columns winding southwest, with the baggage train still packing up the camp behind them. Erdine’s horsemen were out front, probing for the enemy, and behind them was the Girls’ Own, sweeping through the fields in skirmish order.

Marcus, riding beside Cyte, was glad to see that yesterday’s fighting hadn’t cracked the division’s discipline. Despite the casualties, and the fatigue the soldiers had to feel, their formations were clean and they made good time. It helped that the sun was out and the mud had finally started to dry. While the Girls’ Own were spread out, picking their way through harvested fields and over the drystone walls that separated them, the other three regiments stuck to the Alves-​Satinvol road, which ran more or less parallel to the river.

For the moment there was no sign of the enemy. Marcus kept looking across the river, expecting to see troops on the move there, but either the Pale was too wide or there was nothing to see. There was no sign of Alves yet, either. The only other force he could see was Fitz Warus’ First Division, advancing roughly in the same direction a mile or two to Marcus’ left. That was heartening, too. Not that he’d had any doubt about Fitz’ punctuality, of course, but it was always good to know the allies who were supposed to be covering your flanks were actually in place.

“Do you really think there’ll be a fight today, sir?” Cyte said.

“You doubt it?” Marcus said, looking back at her. “The enemy certainly showed willing at Satinvol.”