30

The cheering started just before noon, and rolled, like a wave, from the gates of the Deer Park to the mansion.

No one needed to know what it meant.

An agreement had been reached between the ruling barons of Sagene and King Asir.

Hal felt his heart leap, went looking for the details.

As matters turned out, there were three levels of agreements. The first, since there had to be something to tell the masses and leak to the Roche, was that Sagene and Deraine had reached a general treaty of goodwill and close cooperation from now until forever, to ensure there would be no stab in the back by the Roche or anyone else.

Paestum, as rumored, would become an open city once the war was over.

Both countries formally agreed there could be but one end to this war: complete and unconditional surrender by the Roche, and occupation, at least for a time, of their lands while a less bellicose regime was installed.

Most civilians thought this an obvious requirement.

Many soldiers did not, arguing that would make the Roche fight even harder if they knew Queen Norcia and her court would be replaced by something, someone, unknown.

Others snorted, saying they didn't see how the bastards could fight any harder than they already were, and wanted to make sure their children or children's children, wouldn't be attacked by the Roche, or at least not this version of them.

Hal didn't know, seeing good argument on both sides.

The second level of the treaty agreed there would be a massive attack in the far south, in the Fourth Army's area. All other armies would go to full alert to disguise the buildup.

This level was intended for discovery by Roche spies, and was false.

The real treaty included not only the first articles, but the agreement for the general offensive, from all armies, against the Roche, intended to smash their lines from north to south and seize Carcaor.

There were banquets, parades, and general goodwill from all.

King Asir couldn't go beyond the Deer Park without being buried by hurrahing crowds.

Before the goodwill was inevitably worn down, the Derainians packed for their return to the front.

On that last night, Hal jerked awake in the small hours.

A thought, a dream, had come, and he managed to keep from losing it.

He was sitting on the bed, feet on the floor, sweating.

"Whassamatta, love?" Khiri murmured.

"Nothing. Something I forgot to check," he said. "Go back to sleep."

"Ummuck," she said, and obeyed.

Hal dressed hurriedly, went to the planning room, consulted maps.

They suggested he wasn't even slightly about to cry wolf.

He went to the stables, and further confirmed his suspicions.

Then he found the officer of the guard, and got directions to Limingo's rooms.

"But my master has given orders not to be disturbed," the servant-acolyte said, pulling himself up from the cot across the entrance.

"King's orders," Hal lied. "Now, go get whatever Limingo needs to wake up."

"But—"

"Move!" Hal said, in a voice that would carry across a parade ground.

The man obeyed.

Hal shoved the cot out of the way, opened the door.

Limingo was not alone—a handsome, tousled, naked young man was getting up, fumbling for a sword.

Hal ignored him.

"Limingo, I think we might have problems."

The wizard started to say something, stopped, then told the young man to get dressed and go back to his quarters.

He pulled clothes on, looking at Hal cautiously, as if expecting Kailas to be shocked or enraged.

Hal felt neither and, in any event, hadn't time for emotions.

By the time Limingo had washed and dressed, his servant was back with a tray with a steaming teakettle on it, and cups.

He poured.

"Now, what's the great alarm?" Limingo said. "I hear no sounds of tumult or disaster."

"If I'm right, you won't, not for three days," Hal said. "Listen to my thread of logic, and please tell me I'm full of shit, so we can go back to bed," he said. "Back on the front lines, we were jumped when the king visited Lord Cantabri, straight out of nowhere by a battle formation of dragons.

"We drove them off, but for the rest of the time we were on the lines, there'd be a dragon or six hovering just out of range.

"When we pulled out, coming east to Fovant, we had a pair or more of Roche dragons—always black, and I'd suspect from Ky Yasin's elite squadron—tailing us.

"I was wondering then if there was a spy with us, or if the Roche had some very skilled recon soldiers in the bushes, reporting to a wizard who passed the word along to their dragon fliers.

"But I never saw any sign of their scouts, either afoot or on horseback, lurking about, when I was airborne. I asked the raider captain if he'd seen anything, but he hadn't.

"Isn't it possible that, if you have, say, a bit of the cloth of someone's pants, assuming he's a filthy sod and never changes, you could use magic to track him?"

"Certainly," Limingo said. "It's not that hard a spell, either.'

"Well, let's say somebody breaks into the king's stable tent, and cuts a few strands off that damned royal red blanket he's so fond of?"

"That would work very well indeed, as long as the tracker was only concerned with when the king was a-horseback," Limingo said. He was starting to look a bit worried.

"Remember those four Roche who tried to attack the king the first night after he left my squadron? We killed one, ran the other three off, with no gains. Or so we thought.

"However, I just went out to the stablery, and looked at the king's riding gear. And that blanket has about four or five of its long fringes cut off.

"Do you think maybe that's what those infiltrators were after?"

Limingo nodded slowly.

"Now, let's put another bit into the equation," Hal went on. "Remember how desolate our way was, even after we crossed the border into Sagene, and now some of the king's favorites asked if we could turn away from the main road to Fovant, which we did?"

"Yes." One of the many things Hal liked about Limingo was that he actually listened when you were speaking, and saved his comments until you were through.

"I just looked at the map, and traced the route we were supposed to follow—and the one we'll take back to the areas we already hold.

"Two days after we turned off the main highway on to the byways, we would've passed through a rocky place. Chasms, draws, small but steep peaks. It's called the Pinnacles. Looking at the map, and remembering my days as a cavalryman," Hal said, "I would've loved to have ambushed somebody right in the middle of that, particularly somebody who doesn't have a heavy escort, not needing one that far from the front.

"What do you think about that, my sorcerous friend?" Hal said, with a bit of triumph.

"I think we'd best wake up the king," Limingo said. "And I don't think anybody's going to get a lot of sleep for the rest of the night."

"You're wrong there," Hal said. "I think the only one who won't be getting any sleep is me."

The king looked at the maps Hal had laid out once more.

"I don't normally like guesses about what the enemy is going to do, Lord Kailas. But your suppositions make entirely too much sense for me not to allow for them.

"I suppose now we roust out a baron or two, borrow whatever guard regiment or regiments we can, and have them march east to the Pinnacles and winkle the Roche out. We can use that damned blanket of mine—and I should have known, remembering my father's warning against fripperies—as bait."

"That is one option, Your Highness," Hal said carefully. He didn't like any of it, particularly exposing to the Roche they'd caught on to the blanket trick, having a vague idea about putting the principle to use himself against the Roche.

"But not the one you clearly prefer," Asir said.

Hal made a noncommittal noise.

"What would be your plan, then?" Asir said. "I just realized one thing: there is no way in the world I'll sit on my ass here in Fovant and let the Sagene clean up the mess I've been responsible for."

Limingo looked alarmed.

"An excellent idea, sire," Hal said. "Might I ask which of your sons is the most qualified to be regent?"

The king frowned, then jolted as he got it.

"Kailas, when I suggested you learn a few tricks of the diplomatic trade, I didn't mean for you to get this sneaky."

Everyone knew Asir was not only unmarried, but didn't even have any royal bastards hanging about the palace.

"Very well," Asir grudged. "Perhaps—especially after reaching this covenant with the Council of Barons—I'd best not be out there playing soldier."

Limingo relaxed.

"As for sending the Sagene out," Hal went on, "suppose that I'm wrong, and there's nobody and nothing in the Pinnacles but wild boar and rocks?

We'll look more than a bit stupid."

"True. But what can we do?" Asir asked. "And, by the way, do you have any idea how the Roche will mount this ambush? Just with dragons, as they tried the last time?"

"No," Hal said. "I'd guess they might have infiltrated light cavalry through the lines, and had them hole up. They'll have been horrid disappointed that we didn't waltz into their talons, but most likely figure we're going to come back the shorter route, since we've got important matters for the army to implement.

"Another possibility is they've brought infantry across in dragon baskets, like they used back around Bedarisi."

"You and your fliers took care of that rather handily," Asir said. "I'd think they'd be reluctant to try it again."

"Why?" Hal asked. "If everybody thinks that tactic's elderly, doesn't that make it fresh again?"

Asir nodded.

"But you still haven't offered a plan," he said.

"Very simple," Hal said. "I take off right now for the First Army, with orders from you to Lord Cantabri to take, say, two companies of light cavalry, two companies of heavy cavalry, plus as many dragon flights as I can get, and march west to the Pinnacles. The Roche, if they're in there, shouldn't be watching their back as they should.

"Meantime you…" Hal caught himself, and saw the king's grin. "Sorry, sir. I meant that as a suggestion, sir. Maybe you could get a couple of companies of heavy cavalry to ride west with you as escort, to keep you from getting any surprises."

That was Hal's intent—to get Ky Yasin and his First Guards Squadron between a rock—the Pinnacles—and a very hard place. Which would be them on the ground with Hal's dragons overhead and Derainian soldiers on the ground. With any luck, and assuming Yasin was involved with this elaborate scheme to murder or capture the king, Hal might be able to strike a great blow against the Roche.

The king pondered for a few minutes.

"Very well. Get you airborne and headed west. I'll move east as slowly as possible until I get word you're on the march."

"A better idea, sire," Hal said. "Wait here until I've reached Cantabri, and send a messenger back that we're on the move. Then take the road.

"And you could have someone, maybe Sir Thom, write a story about the route you'll be taking, making sure you mention the Pinnacles as maybe being some kind of natural wonder that you're sorry you've missed.

"There's got to be spies here in Fovant that'll report that."

"I'll do it," the king said. "But I feel like I'm being ordered about, instead of kinging the way I'm supposed to." He sighed. "Back and forth, back and forth. It's a great damned pity that our magicians haven't come up with any way to communicate over distances. But I suppose that's an impossibility."

He sighed once more.

Hal got up, saluted.

"Thank you, Kailas," the king said. "If you're right, and there are murderers waiting, I shall truly be in your debt."

"So you're going to fly off, all by yourself, and play hero again?" Khiri said. "Oh well. At least it isn't that dangerous… at least not until you start coming back toward us.

"Then you'd best be very careful."

"I'm always careful," Hal said piously.

Khiri just snorted.

Hal took Storm into the air a little before dawn. He wanted to fly east, back to the armies, as quickly as he could, but without exhausting the dragon or himself.

There would be other tasks for him once they reached the First Army and Lord Cantabri.

Flying in a straight line, it would take five days for Hal to reach Bedarisi, where there would be dragon units to leave Storm, but he'd take an extra day avoiding the Pinnacles.

He probably should have taken a wingmate, but there were few enough dragons with the king already, and so he decided to fly solo, and feed both Storm and himself on emergency rations.

Khiri, Limingo and Hal's orderly, Uluch, were the only ones to bid him farewell. Hal turned the detachment over to Gart, and she was the only one to know that Hal was on some other mission than flying northeast, to see what the Sagene dragon training camps were like.

Hal went high, where the air was thinner, and it was easier flying for Storm, who could glide vast distances with his wings at full stretch.

He landed after dark at a recommended Sagene inn, and was able to husband the emergency rations for a night, feeding Storm on a pair of lambs, and himself on chops with mint.

He was grateful for the warm bed they put him up in, since the late summer was a bit snappish. Storm was curled up behind the inn's stables.

Once again, before dawn, he was roused, and gulped some tea and cold meat. He fed Storm on ten pounds of raw, ground meat, since the dragon didn't seem terribly hungry, then pushed on.

That night, he slept away from the road, in a grassy nook next to a creek. Storm sneered at what he was offered, went fishing in the creek, his long, snaky head hovering like a heron over the water, then darting down.

He caught enough fish for himself, and for Hal to grill a couple over an open fire.

The third day covered the shortest distance—to the immediate north was the main east-west road, and the Pinnacles.

Hal desperately wanted to overfly the crags, to see if he could spot any sign of the Roche ambush, not knowing if it was still set… or if, in fact, it ever had been.

He hoped he hadn't made the classic intelligence officer's mistake of seeing an enemy behind every bush, when there wasn't one there, and, sometimes, there wasn't even a bush.

But he held back, and flew low that day, arcing around the Pinnacles.

Storm growling at not being allowed to go high.

There was an inn, at a crossroads, and Hal chanced landing beside it.

He ate a gigantic omelet, and Storm munched on a heifer.

Hal allowed himself two glasses of wine, and was nursing the second as his plate was cleared away, when he overheard a pair of teamsters grumbling about the godsdamned bandits in the godsdamned Pinnacles, and how the godsdamned army wouldn't send in some godsdamned troops to clean the godsdamned bastards out.

"They're scar't," one wagoneer said. "Those godsdamned bastids are too strong for a rooty little company. Hells, they've got dragons to scout for

'em. Bet they're not godsdamned bandits at all, but more like, godsdamned deserters."

"Typical gummint," the first said. "Allus too eager for your taxes, but never gonna give anything back."

He snorted, went back to his beer, and Hal drank up his wine and went to bed, feeling a little better that perhaps he wasn't dreaming about the Roche.

The rest of the flight was smooth, if tiresome.

He left a rather plaintive, but exhausted, Storm in Bedarisi, promising to come back for him within days, when he'd rested. Hal wondered if the dragon understood him, decided he was getting a little strange, what they were beginning to call dragon-happy.

He got a brown-orange male dragon that was promised to "be fast, but, sir, I'll warn you, he can be skittish."

Another hand broke in: "He's the Dragonmaster. Not to worry about him."

Hal thought he should have said bushwa, that the Dragonmaster was feeling more than a little delicate, and whoever had said he was a master rider, but stupid pride kept him from it.

The brown was a bit on the high-strung side, but when he realized Hal was proposing to let him fly as hard and fast as he could, settled down and went like the wind.

Now they were over familiar ground, the area fought over by both armies.

Hal realized he'd grown used to the ruin and spoliation. But after having spent a few weeks in something resembling civilization, the shambles came afresh.

He wondered, briefly, what it would be like for him when and if the war was over. Certainly he wouldn't be able to fit into a civilian niche easily, nor could he see remaining a soldier.

Kailas turned off his thoughts, concentrated on flying fast.

A pair of dragons came in on him as he was closing on the First Army headquarters. He didn't recognize them, nor the flight banner on both dragons' carapaces, but they knew him, and asked a shouted question about needing an escort.

Hal called back that things were fine, but the riders must have recognized his rather harried appearance, and dropped in on his flanks.

They waved farewell as he brought the brown in, just short of Cantabri's command tent.

Sentries ran up, challenged him, saluted, and obeyed when he asked to be taken to Lord Bab at once.

Cantabri listened, took a few notes, consulted three maps, and asked for his top aides to be sent in, plus the liaison officer with the Sagene forces.

Hal listened, a bit enthralled, having forgotten what it was to be with quiet competence.

Within an hour, two battalions of heavy cavalry had been told off, with orders to draw two weeks' supplies and march east toward Bedarisi. One of them was a crack Sagene unit.

They would be the slowest to move, next to the infantry, and therefore had been the first to be put on the march.

The foot soldiers came next, a full regiment of conventional infantry.

Supporting them were four reserve transport companies, to carry the infantry and its supplies in wagons.

Next were three battalions of light cavalry, with the same orders.

With them went Cantabri's raiders. "They'll march at the stirrup, and their rations'll go with the cavalry."

Hal nodded. That meant the footsoldiers would hang on to a horseman's stirrup, and keep pace with him, half trotting, half being carried. It was hard on horses and men, but it doubled the pace the raiders would be able to travel. They well earned their jaunty uniforms and tough reputations.

"I'll depend on them to at least pin the Roche until the heavies can arrive," Cantabri went on. "Then we'll wipe them out.

"Now for you, Lord Kailas," Cantabri said. "I would like your squadron to move east as my long range scouts. Do you have any additions?"

"Yessir," Hal said. "We'll need to send a flier—two of them—east, looping around the Pinnacles, to alert the king that he should begin moving slowly in four or five days say, when we're on the other side of Bedarisi.

"I'd also like to draw from the other flights on the front," Hal said, "and bring my squadron at least up to full strength.

"I'm assuming Yasin is in command of those dragons, since he seems to be fond of anything smacking of dirty deeds, and I'd like a chance to wipe him—and his unit—out for once and for all."

"That would be a desirable end," Cantabri said. He nodded to an aide.

"Has there been significant air fighting lately?"

"Nossir," the aide said. "And I've been wondering why."

"I'd guess the explanation might be that their best is behind our lines, looking for a chance to take out King Asir," Cantabri said.

He thought, tapping fingernails against a map.

"That should do it, for a starter," Cantabri said. "Now, all of you—except Lord Kailas—out. I assume he's got things for my eyes only."

Hal waited until the tent was empty, reflexively checked to make sure the posted sentries were the only ones close to the tent's canvas.

"I do, indeed, sir," Hal said. "The treaty has been agreed on with Sagene. We'll have full cooperation with the barons. And both parties agreed the only peace will be unconditional surrender."

Cantabri looked wolfish.

"Good," he said. "Now, with an offensive to plan, I should remain here with my maps. But I'll allow myself a bit of privilege first."

It was a forced march to Bedarisi, where Hal reclaimed the rested Storm.

The formation went on east, moving as fast as it could. Stragglers were simply abandoned, told to catch up or return to the First Army, it didn't matter which to Cantabri.

Hal, his First Squadron, and the augmentation kept airborne. Hal hadn't briefed anyone on what the mission was, any more than Cantabri had told anyone but unit commanders.

The weary messengers sent to Fovant returned, reported that the king's party was moving out of the city.

"Deceptions," Cantabri told Kailas, "are under way by the king's party."

Hal, while Storm drifted above the formation, considered what those deceptions might be.

He had the idea that Limingo, with a couple or three of his bedmates, plus a small cavalry escort and two dragons, was marching west to meet them, toward the Pinnacles. The wizard not only had the king's blanket on his mount, but had cast a deceiving spell around the group so no Roche spies could see what they were about to attack.

For some unknown reason, Hal pictured the blanket, and Limingo, on a rather contrary and braying gray mule, an image that amused him, and one he never bothered to correct.

Two days short of the Pinnacles, Cantabri gathered his men in a great natural arena.

His speech was short, and pointed:

"Derainians! Our king is being stalked by a Roche enemy. We are marching to the rescue.

"Sagene! Your barons have agreed to a great plan that will end this war.

"We must not let anyone stand in that plan's way.

"Two days from now, we shall encounter the Roche, and ambush them where they would have waylaid His Royal Highness.

"There are moments in history where one man—or one company of men—can make a difference.

"This is one of them.

"Years gone, you will tell your grandchildren you were here, and no one will be able to say he did greater fealty to his country.

"For Sagene!

"For Deraine!"

The men cheered until the hills gave back the echo.

Hal insisted on flying the first reconnaissance over the Pinnacles.

The Roche camp, fairly well concealed, was hidden just where Hal would've put it himself, assuming that no one would be looking for Roche this far behind the lines.

It looked as if there was a small flight of dragons, about ten monsters, and about two companies of infantry, around 150 or more men.

They were quartered under trees, and the transport baskets the dragons had brought them in were hidden in a draw nearby.

Hal wondered how the Roche were going to lift out their infantrymen after the ambush, or if they were proposing a suicide operation.

That didn't make sense—the Roche weren't known for their stupidity.

But that wasn't his problem, nor that of any other Derainian. Better if every Roche died in place as far as Kailas was concerned.

Before they had left the front, Cantabri had a large-scale map of the Pinnacles cast by a wizard, and used that for the final briefing. Some officers were worried that their camp was less than a league away from the Roche, but Cantabri was confident of surprise. The Roche wouldn't be looking to their rear.

Hal hoped he was right.

That night, the raiders went out on foot, and came back with a clear scout of the terrain.

A dragon was stationed on a peak, in a shallow cave. A raider officer, with a glass, and the flier waited with it.

They reported that Roche dragon scouts went out that dawn, flew west, looking for the king.

They came back, landed. There was no particular excitement around the camp, so the raider officer flag-signaled to another raider to the east, who sent the word to Cantabri's camp.

They waited another night, and then most of a day as the Roche dragons went out once more.

The Roche hurtled back at speed, late in the day, and it was clear to the watchers the king's column had been sighted.

There would be two choices for the Roche—either ambush the king at dawn, when the column was rousing, or immediately, near dusk.

From the bustle that was signaled back, it was evident the Roche commander had decided to attack what he thought was Asir's column immediately, not taking a chance and betting on fatigue and hunger to fight on his side.

They definitely wouldn't be watching their rear.

Cantabri ordered his forces into attack.

The heavy cavalry went straight up the main highway, planning to divert up a wide draw that wound into the Roche camp.

The light cavalry and the infantry took a winding herdsman's path the raider scouts had found, moving at the trot.

A league—an hour before the fight would begin.

One turning of the glass.

Hal would begin the attack.

He took his dragons off after half an hour, swept once back over the camp, forming an arrow formation and drove for the Roche.

They came in over the Roche camp, a fairly defensible nest in the rocks, just as the Roche were getting ready to move to the main highway and their ambush positions.

Hal took Storm in low, and a black dragon fairly leapt into the air at him.

Kailas had an instant to recognize the dragon's banner on its carapace as being, in fact, Yasin's First Guards Squadron. Then he put a bolt in its rider's chest, another shot into the dragon's throat, and it scrawked, pinwheeled, and thrashed down to the ground, knocking another two dragons sprawling.

The Roche infantry froze for an instant, then rigid discipline returned.

They formed extended lines, knelt, and brought up their bows, ready to destroy the dragons.

The Roche dragons were trying to get into the air, but Hal's formation swept across the field, dragon riders spattering down crossbow bolts.

Hal suddenly remembered when he'd used bowman mounted behind the fliers, cursed that he'd not had time to use the tactic again.

A dragon in front of him was hit, tucked its head down as if entering a rainstorm, and crashed, rolling, bouncing across the field, killing half a score of Roche as it and its rider died.

Then the light cavalry and the raiders came into the nest, still on line, not pausing to reform into a battle line, but spreading out as they came.

They hit the Roche hard, smashing them back, into knots. But the Roche held firm, trying to reform as the cavalry came back on them.

The Roche dragons were all in the air, and banked hard away from the field.

Hal sent his dragons after them, and there was a low-level melee that sent four Roche and one Derainian dragon down.

Trumpets blared, and Hal chanced a quick look back at the Roche base.

The heavy cavalry had come on the field, its ponderous chargers moving from the walk into the trot, long lances coming down.

The Roche men held for an instant, then broke, running, scattered.

As they broke, the light cavalry and infantry swarmed after them, swords slashing.

The Roche dragons clawed for altitude, but Hal's squadron denied it to them.

The black monsters fled low, across country, heading east, back for their own lines, abandoning the men on the ground.

Hal sent his dragons after them, and there was a long pursuit in the dusk, dropping a dragon here, and there.

None of them carried the fringed banner of Ky Yasin.

No more than a handful of Roche were able to escape their harriers.

Finally, Hal blew the recall, and they turned back to the Pinnacles.

Hal wondered if the Roche dragon fliers had also panicked and fled, or if they'd been under orders to abandon the foot soldiers, fliers being vastly more valuable than any ground troops.

Ordered or not, that tasted very nasty to him, and he wondered if the flight also rang sour in the mind of Yasin. Hopefully it had, and would eat at him, possibly clouding his judgment in the future.

It was near dark when they came in on the battlefield, the dragons'

wings cracking as they braked for a landing.

It was strewn with bodies, and there were only a few wounded. The Roche hadn't asked for quarter, and, generally, none had been given.

Hal landed, reported to Cantabri.

Lord Bab was a bit angry. There'd been no ranking prisoners taken, and so no one to tell Lord Bab—or the king—just what had been intended by the ambush, whether capturing Asir… or just killing him.

The formation's support units came up the road, and the Sagene and Deraine forces moved down to the highway, to rest, and wait for the king.

Skirmishers were still busy on the battlefield, stripping arms and armor from the dead, and, supposedly, succoring the Roche wounded.

Hal doubted if there would be much of that.

"So that's that," King Asir said, after full reports had been made. "If we had time, I would have liked to have visited that field myself.

"But we've wasted enough time as is.

"Now, let's get back to the lines, and get this damned war over with."