‘I’ve never seen so many people before in my life!’ Darcel murmured, his eyes wide as he came to a halt. The army stretched as far as the eye could see, an ocean of people. The noise was intense, and dust hung in the air.

  ‘We’ll get lost if we join them!’

  ‘No, I’m sure it’s very organized.’ Basile insisted calmly and confidently. ‘The King would keep it organized.’

  ‘The King isn’t here.’ Darcel said, frowning, as the rest of the troop marched past.

  ‘Let’s just hope whoever’s in charge is better than Darcy Telford!’ Amaury piped up.

  There was a round of laughter from the boys, who quickly fell back in line with the rest of the group.

  After Bo set up his tent and helped those around him he headed back to the quartermaster’s wagon, for the ninth time.

  The quartermaster looked up and then quickly glanced away, pretending he hadn’t recognized him.

  ‘I’ve waited over a week,’ Bo said, not unkindly, ‘we’ll be fighting soon. I need something now.’

  The man, who like most men was much smaller than Bo, wouldn’t meet his eyes. ‘Don’t have nothing for you.’

  ‘You couldn’t find anything?’ Bo asked in genuine surprise.

  ‘Don’t have nothing for you. Lord Pruitt made that clear.’

  Bo absorbed that quietly. He felt suddenly alone and vulnerable, despite the quartermaster cowering before him.

  Keeping his tone as cheerful as he could he said ‘I’ve done well enough with my sword all these years, I’m sure it will serve me just as well in Dartham. And my money?’

  The man looked up, startled and alarmed that he would even suggest such a thing.

  Bo chose to laugh. There was nothing to be gained by anger. ‘I hope you enjoyed it!’

  He turned and walked back to his tent, feeling as if he was walking through a dream and all eyes were on him.

  He arrived back at his tent and sat. The men (boys, really), were preparing dinner. Bo found himself in no mood to eat. The others did not share his lack of appetite and wolfed down their food.

  While the men ate, Lord Pruitt stood up and began to speak.

  ‘I’ve just been in counsel with the generals. Tomorrow we fight!’

  There was a sudden buzz of conversation, excited, frightened, and everything in between.

  ‘The Lakashan dogs are nothing compared to the brave men of Mercôt, none braver than the sons of Gaillac! Sleep well tonight, tomorrow, we bring our swords to our enemy!’

  After Pruitt returned to his tent the men around Bo began excitedly talking.

  ‘Finally, a fight!’ Darcel said.

  ‘I’m sick of all this marching!’ Amaury said.

  ‘We’ll show those dirty Lakashan dogs a thing or too! That’ll teach them to try and invade Mance-Jolune!’ Darriel bragged excitedly.

  ‘I’m going to kill twenty!’

  ‘Twenty? You couldn’t even get five!’

  ‘How many are you going to get?!’

  Bo listened, forcing a strained smile to his face. He felt ill. His thoughts about this war were confused at best. Truly he didn’t know what he thought, all he was sure of was that he didn’t want to be here.

  He looked up suddenly when someone called his name.

  ‘Captain Wyatt. What can I do for you?’

  ‘Just checking in on the men. Are you ready, Lakashan?’

  Despite the unavoidable noise of the camp, everything suddenly felt quiet to Bo, as if all eyes were on him. The fire flickered and crackled, casting moving shadows over the young faces turned towards him. Outside their pool of light was a strip of shadow, and then the light cast by another campfire.

  ‘Yes.’ Bo said, knowing there was no other acceptable answer. ‘I am.’

  ‘To kill your countrymen?’

  ‘They aren’t my countrymen.’

  Wyatt nodded slowly. Once he’d gone Bo looked back at the men around him. They were all looking at him with a new look in their eyes. Suspicion. The conversation resumed more quietly, and no one spoke to Bo.

  Bo went to bed early that night and didn’t sleep. He thought of Julietta and wondered if she was here somewhere with the army. Then his thoughts turned to Dorian and Asmara. Whatever my situation, it is better than hers. He thought sadly. I haven’t had a chance to send that letter yet. He wondered if anyone would let him send a letter.

  Tomorrow I fight Lakashans for the King of Mance. He’d fought and killed plenty of times before, Manunians, Lakashans, Walmese. This is the first time I’ve been at war...somehow I’m supposed to have an opinion on the rightness of this war, which side should win. The scale of the violence that was about to occur paralyzed him. He wondered if he would be bothered if he hadn’t met some of the men behind this war, hadn’t had some glimpse at the reasoning for it. If I had never met Jacques Dulère, never been imprisoned in Manus... perhaps then I could fight here and not trouble myself with the reasons for it.

  CHAPTER 41

  13 Mai, 1353

  The day dawned dusty and dry. Bo stood for hours, waiting under the sun that grew hotter and hotter. Around him the young men’s bravado slowly faded in the heat of the day.

  ‘At least it’s not summer.’ Bo murmured, without feeling.

  ‘When is anything going to happen?’ Darcel Forrest muttered, shifting from foot to foot.

  ‘Don’t ask him, he’s Lakashan!’ Darriel said.

  Bo gave no sign he heard and instead looked up at the brilliant blue sky. He could see nothing but ranks of soldiers ahead and the sky above. Colourful flags hung limp in the still air.

  Julietta would probably know what all those flags meant, which families they belonged to, Bo thought idly. He recognized only a few, the green sea serpent of the Duke of Mercôt, the blue lily of Jolune. The black griffin of Mance would be flying, but Bo couldn’t see it.

  The tedium was broken by movement in the ranks, and Bo saw one of Normand Wyatt’s men join their group. Bo met the eyes of the grizzled old warrior, a member of Lord Pruitt’s personal guard.

  I suppose even now I’m being watched.

  ‘You boys doing alright?’ the newcomer asked gruffly.

  ‘How much longer?’ Amaury asked.

  ‘No need to rush. It’ll start when it starts.’

  With that the conversation ended.

  A fly buzzed around Bo’s face. He made a half-hearted attempt at brushing it away. It avoided his hand and then circled back to continue buzzing. Sweat beaded on his forehead. He shifted his feet from side to side. He swatted at the fly again.

  An interminable time later, a deep horn sounded, echoing over the field, the long bellows rolling across the gathered army. The men began marching.

  Darcel looked around in frightened glee, ‘we’re moving, we’re moving!’ he squeaked.

  ‘Stay in position, lad,’ the old warrior cautioned.

  The tramp of thousands upon thousands of soldiers was deafening. The air, dusty before, became horrendously thick with sand and grit. Bo coughed and squinted.

  Another horn blew, this one with more urgency. The pace of the men quickened. Bo’s heart pounded faster. He readied his heavy sword. He forgot about the men he was fighting with, the men he would be fighting. There was just him, his sword, and the dusty autumn air.

  Maintaining her silence with an effort, Julietta took her position. Ariane stood at the head of the line, shouting directions. The Royal Mages were strung out in a long semi-circle atop a low rise of land, not far from where they had camped two evenings past. Down the gentle slope the soldiers they had camped with marched towards the enemy. The hill was not high enough to grant an excellent view of the battlefield, but it was better than nothing. It was still early morning, and there had been no fighting so far.

  Despite her isolation and embarrassment over the past two days, Julietta felt excitement stir within her. Finally, the fighting would start, and she’d be able to do something.

  The morning wore on slowly. Julietta was used to waiting after so many nights on watch and guarding caravans with Bo, Asmara and Dorian. Her current companions were not used to such boredom and she could hear her fellow mages fidgeting and complaining. Her eyes were caught by movement. She squinted and saw a bare headed man walking past the line of mages. She considered suggesting he obtain a hat (she was wearing her little hat made in Introduction to Basic Enchanting). Her eyes widened as the man got closer and she finally recognized him.

  ‘Master Vayles!’

  The man looked up when he heard his name. He looked at her in confusion before recognition dawned on his handsome face. ‘Ah, Asmara’s friend, the sorceress.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Julietta frowned, clearly remembering how he had behaved at their last meeting.

  ‘Didn’t you hear? I was recruited by your army! I fight for Mance-Jolune, so my beloved wife will be safe.’

  ‘Surely Lady Emerré will be safe in Belcanon. It is a long way from here.’

  ‘Safe from Lakashans, but not safe from the agents of your King.’

  ‘You can hardly hold me responsible for what others do, even if they are Manunian.’ she defended herself at his accusing tone. ‘Considering how Jacques Dulère and Quince Abelard have behaved towards Asmara, I suppose it is not a surprise if they have been inappropriate towards Lady Emerré.’

  His interest piqued he said, ‘what have they done now?’

  Julietta glanced towards the nearest mage, a sorceress who was watching curiously, her eyes glued to Cadel.

  Cadel noticed Julietta’s gaze and walked over so they could talk more quietly.

  ‘I...’ Julietta considered not telling him for a moment, but she was alone and Cadel was the only one who had spoken to her in days, and besides, Emerré was Asmara’s friend. ‘Asmara thinks Jacques tricked her into using her shadow magic in Lakasha.’

  ‘She used her shadow magic?’

  ‘Yes, and they blamed Bo for it and imprisoned him for awhile. Asmara was sure it was Jacques, or someone in his... area.’

  ‘Another spy, you mean?’

  ‘Yes. They split us up after that, I don’t know how Asmara is...’ suddenly feeling sick, she wondered whether Asmara had used her shadow magic again in the time they’d been apart.

  ‘Quince Abelard came to our house and threatened to cut our child from Emerré-’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You heard me-’

  ‘Lady Emerré is the Duke of Belcanon’s niece, surely no one can speak to her that way, even if the King does want her shadow magic!’

  Cadel smiled thinly. ‘Apparently, they can. And so I am here.’

  Julietta absorbed that quietly. She did not like it at all.

  The bright sun shone on Cadel’s hair, highlighting the golden streaks and catching her eye. His riding jacket was open. The top three buttons of his undershirt were undone, revealing more than was appropriate of his chest. Julietta quickly glanced away. Really, to dress like that! she found herself looking back and focussed on his boots. That inevitably led to his calves. His riding pants were no safer than his jacket. She looked away again, feeling uncomfortably hot. How was she to focus when he was standing there so inappropriately?

  ‘I haven’t seen you here before.’ she said. ‘Did you just arrive?’

  ‘I’ve been in Dartham over a month. I arrived here last night. I was in Dartham Town before.’

  Their eyes met and she saw the coldness there. He knew. Embarrassed, though she had said or done nothing, she looked away. The memory of his behaviour at their last meeting squashed whatever she was feeling.

  ‘I didn’t see you there.’ she said, hoping his mood would sour no further, ‘I find it... odd, how the mages behave in Dartham Town.’

  Cadel actually laughed. ‘Mages always conduct war in a civilized manner. I suppose it is to your credit you find it strange. There aren’t many of us, and we prefer not to get dirty or hurt when we fight. I think you’ll be surprised how this battle goes, at least for us. You’ll find only the least among the mages have to come out to places like this. Oh how Thierry Reynard and his lot complained when they had to go all the way to the Lishar Ravine!’

  ‘Then why are you out here with us? I understand my unit is the lowest, I would think as an Imperial Wizard...’

  Cadel smiled thinly, his blue eyes cold, ‘I’m only out here because your Manunian sorcerers find my magic a little... too much. Personally, I prefer it. Fewer women around to forget I’m married.’

  Julietta frowned. ‘I would think that is partly your fault,’ she said primly, her eyes drawn to his unbuttoned shirt and then away, ‘the way you behave,’ and dress, ‘most women would think you do not care for your wife.’

  Cadel’s expression darkened, but Julietta continued before he could say anything, ‘clearly, that is not true, but if you choose to behave in such a contradictory manner, you cannot blame others for coming to incorrect conclusions about you.’

  ‘Belix says the same thing.’

  ‘Belix?’

  ‘A friend. He’s in love with my wife, which I suppose is to his credit, though I must say, it rankles. It’s poor form in a friend. Oh look, it seems our leader is coming over.’

  Julietta turned and saw Ariane approaching. She shot Julietta a quick glare before turning a smile on Cadel.

  ‘Oh, Cadel,’ she said warmly, ‘I didn’t know you’d be joining us.’

  Julietta sighed and looked away. Now that she’d seen Cadel’s true nature for herself, she could recognize the cold anger in his gaze and the brittleness of his smile. At least it was no longer directed at her. She ignored the two as they talked. Eventually, Ariane left and returned to her duty at the other end of the line.

  ‘What a tedious woman.’ Cadel said after she left.

  ‘Mmm.’

  ‘You are displeased with me.’ he said and laughed. ‘How judgmental! Exactly like Belix! Frown all you like, I don’t care.’

  ‘I will, thank you.’

  Amused, Cadel said, ‘excuse me, I’ll continue onto my designated location, all the way over there.’ and he pointed.

  Julietta frowned. ‘That seems far.’ she said.

  ‘You’ll understand soon enough.’ he said and left without another word.

  Down below, the army begun marching as a horn sounded from far away. Further across the plain, she could make out the Lakashan army coming closer. She felt a small tingle of fear. She pushed it away and thought about other things. She wondered if the Lakashan mages, or moghs, would send spirits at them. What then? She wasn’t as good with spirits as other forms of magic. If they really use spirits Dorian would be useful... no, I can do this. I’ve been in Sontmor. I can deal with Lakashan spirits.

  Slowly the armies came closer. Then Ariane shouted a command down the line, her voice magically enhanced to carry through the air, ‘Prepare!’

  Julietta felt her fellow sorcerers begin drawing in magic and forming links with the mages on either side. Julietta joined them, the link tenuous. She noticed Cadel did not join in their link. Another good quarter of an hour passed while they quietly held the link in preparation.

  ‘Strengthen!’ Ariane called and the mages drew in more magic, the link between them burgeoning with strength. Almost at the same moment, another horn sounded.

  Julietta could feel on the other side, far away, another group strengthening their own link. The Lakashan mages?

  The armies came closer and closer. Soon, there was only a thin strip of brown earth between. Her heart began beating faster. They came closer, closer, and then the gap was no more and the two masses crashed into each other, became one.

  Bo roared and swung his sword. The violent clang of metal crashing into metal was drowned within the cacophony of the fight. Bo heaved his sword back and swung again, downing his opponent. As soon as the Lakashan fell, another took his place. Bo didn’t pause and spun in a circle, smashing his sword against the other’s head.

  Two more Lakashans took his place and Bo fought furiously, without hesitation.

  Suddenly he found himself fighting three men at once. As he spun he realized he was nearly surrounded by the enemy; the rest of his unit had been forced back. At least that gave him enough space to swing his sword, though it put him in a vulnerable position. Swearing, he slowly stepped back, back again, careful not to trip over the dead now littering the ground.

  How long since the battle had started?

  ‘Bo!’ he heard his name called and spotted Darcel and a group of Manunians in a tight clump. From the group he picked out the faces of Basile and Darriel. Basile’s face was pale, and wet with sweat, fear replacing confidence. Darriel was no longer excited. Bo fought his way over to them.

  ‘They’re everywhere!’ the young man cried in fear, and Bo noticed he was bleeding profusely from his arm.

  Darriel called, ‘where’s Amaury? Did you see him?’

  ‘Stay behind me!’ Bo roared over the din of battle, his sword taking two men down in one prodigious swing. He fought and fought, sweat dripping into his eyes. Darcel and the others fell back behind him, barely able to hold their own.

  What I wouldn’t give for Asmara and Dorian about now! Bo thought as his arms began to ache. And our little prodigy!

  ‘Where’s the rest of the group?!’ Bo shouted.

  ‘I’m not sure! We got separated, ah-!’

  Bo risked a glance behind to see Darcel take a blow to the shoulder. The boy fell to his knees. Basile took his place while Darriel tried to help him up. Bo took a step back, swung his sword around into Darcel’s attacker and rolled out of the way of another blow.

  ‘Can you stand?!’ Bo asked.

  ‘Uh... y-yeah...’ the boy’s face was paper white.

  ‘We’ll get you help. I need some of you to help carry him.’ Bo said to the rest of the group gathered around Darcel.

  ‘I’ve got him!’ Darriel gasped.

  ‘We fall back to the main body of the army.’ Bo couldn’t even remember getting separated. Where was his watcher? That old man would have been helpful now. ‘Let’s move!’

  Darcel slowly got to his feet, with Darriel’s help, and achingly slowly they began the retreat, Bo fending off attacks from every direction. He felt liquid dribbling down his arm. His legs began to feel heavy, his eyes stung from sweat.