Bright Swords of Serena

Chapter 10

Redwing champed at her bit and Hollander soothed her, rubbing the red shoulder with one hand while with the other he futilely tried to wipe away the dawn mist. He could only see the sun as a brightening presence off to his left. To either side of him nervous horses danced and their riders calmed them; ahead lay nothing but damp white air. It hadn't quite rained overnight but the dew had been heavy, and the fields between here and the town were slippery.

"We'll be fine, lady," Hollander told the mare, scratching her neck and forcing calm into his voice. His stomach told him a different story, but it was always this way before a battle.

Are they out there, ready for us? Do they know we're coming? He assumed that the Brestow garrison had scouts out; just because Calvan's army hadn't caught any didn't mean they weren't there. And they would report to their officers, Sirs, they're lined up in battle formation...

It would, of course, make things easier if the Aethirian scouts didn't report at all, but you couldn't capture scouts you couldn't find. Hollander, more and more nervous, unintentionally tightened his legs, and Redwing whuffled, shaking her head and taking two steps backwards.

"Sorry. Sorry, lady." He rubbed her neck again and returned to his proper place in the front line. His groom had started to braid the black mane up and out of the way, but Hollander had stopped him. No such thing as too many emergency handholds.

"Not long now," he said to Fanning, astride her stallion Brondys.

"Yah," she said. "Listen."

The whole Tymarian line fell silent. From far ahead in the fog came the champings and stampings of horses, the rasp of steel leaving the scabbard, an occasional whinny.

"There they are," said Ellen Amory, on Hollander's other side. "Sir, did you write home last night? The way I did?"

"I expect every soldier in this army did, lieutenant." And he had finally told Devran and Clark that Caroline wasn't coming home for the summer. Devran had been indignant on his and Susanna's behalf; Clark had just kissed him.

"Mind what you're doing now," he told Amory. "You'll want to pay attention."

Redwing shifted her footing again, not nervously this time but eagerly. A few puffs of breeze had cleared away some of the mist. A ray of sunlight touched ground a few feet in front of Hollander, and then others joined it. The mist started coming apart in rags and tatters under the assault of sunrise. Looking ahead of him, Hollander saw shapes of horses and riders, and a deathly hush fell on the Tymarian lines.

"Draw swords," Ewens commanded quietly, beyond Fanning, and the order was repeated and obeyed up and down the front lines and back to the rear echelons. Just a minute now. He wished he'd finished the letters to Caroline and Susanna; he wished he'd said better farewells to Devran and to Clark, who were riding with their respective divisions off to the left; he wished devoutly to be elsewhere. He gave Redwing one last rub on her strong shoulder and took a long deep breath.

Calvan's trumpeter sounded the charge, and the front lines sprang forward, thundering toward the Aethirian garrison. They in turn sounded the attack and came at the gallop toward Calvan's army; and then things were as they always were. One hand for the reins, one to wield his sword. Thundering down the shallow slope toward Brestow, the Tymarians smashed into the Aethirian front lines.

The sun chose that moment to come out and toss bright rays on the scattered remnants of the morning mist. Enemy riders in their red uniforms met the charge, swinging swords up, slashing them down for the fight. Hooves churned up clods of green spring grass. How do I forget, each time, how noisy this is? The clash of sword on sword. Neighing horses. People crying out if wounded or thrown from their mounts. Brassy calls striving to be heard above the din, as if a single set of trumpeted instructions weren't enough... they really ought to make a convention whereby each country adopted different horns to blow their signals on...