PROLOGUE (78 page)

I Captain Ulric and his two companions knelt on the ridge, looking eastward, all of them in identical postures: hands flung up to shade their eyes from the glare of the rising sun. At their feet, the hill dropped away precipitously to the river plain. Eastward, bright as a string of jewels, lay the river, but although Liath knew where Gent must lie, the blinding glance of the sun concealed it.

"Look, there," said Erkanwulf, pointing southeast. "Do you see that hill?"

That hill:
It lay somewhat south of their position and a short way out on the river plain. It looked from this height more like a tumulus than a hill, treeless and bare at the height except for banners and a handful of bright pavilions.

"That's the Lavas banner, and the tower of Autun," said Erkanwulf.

"You're sure?" demanded Ulric, rising now.

"Who else could it be? I've keen sight, you know that, Captain."

"Thank God, then," breathed the captain.

The hill lay close enough that although the figures swarming round it looked small, she could clearly see the earthworks, like a fallen coronet, that ringed it halfway down the slope. Lavastine's camp lay a good league west-southwest of Gent. Now, as the sun rose higher, she could see the city itself and the river winding past it, tiny boats like children's toys beached along the eastern shore.

"Thank God that they're still here," she asked, "or that they're here at all?" Liath shaded her eyes. The drums pounded in her ears like distant surf threatening storm, like the beat of the army's heart.

Ulric chuckled. "Thank God that Lavastine hasn't taken the city without us. Else he'd get all the glory, and the city's taxes for a tithe as his reward, no doubt."

Erkanwulf let out a sigh. "I'd feared worse. I thought we'd be as like to see the army lying dead on the
—

"Hush, boy," broke in Ulric, drawing the Circle at his breast. "It's ill luck to speak of such things."

"It's a peaceful day, at least," retorted Erkanwulf. "You can't have expected that."

"The quiet before the storm," said Ulrich ominously.

"More like the thunder before the storm!" said Liath.

No one said anything more. They all looked at her, puzzled, and then at the clear sky above.

"You don't hear it," she said suddenly.

"Hear what?"

"The drums!"

"Drums?"

None of them heard and none of them saw: In distant Gent, a league away, ants swarmed out of the gates of the city. Except those weren't ants.

In that moment she shut her eyes, swept by such a sickening tide of foreboding that she staggered under its flood. Erkanwulf caught her by the elbow, and she opened her eyes, shook him off, and spoke fiercely to the captain.

"By my Eagle's sight, I swear to you, Captain, that I see what you cannot. The Eika are marching out of their city even now to attack Lavastine's army. We must ride to warn the count.
Now!"

Perhaps it was her tone of voice. Perhaps it was the stories they had heard at Steleshame of the horrific illusions that had marched alongside the Eika soldiers when the savages had attacked the holding. Perhaps they had heard her own story of the fall of Gent, retold endless times.

No one argued, though Erkanwulf stared and stared eastward trying to see what she saw until Ulric grabbed him by the arm and yanked him back.

"Come, boy! You heard the Eagle!"

No one heard the drums. No one saw the Eika coming. No one but her. She was the only one who could warn Lavastine
—and make him believe.

J THE FURY OF THE EIKA ALAIN woke at dawn and scrambled outside to find his father sitting at his ease under the awning, sipping wine. The count had unchained Terror, and the old hound rested his head on Lavastine's knee and gazed adoringly at his master.

"Did you rest well?" Lavastine offered Alain the cup.

"Well enough." The wine hit Alain's stomach with a bracing flood of warmth. Rage whined, scenting eastward.

"Did you dream?"

"Just nightmares of the Eika arming. Like locusts, swarming everywhere. But Fifth Son did not leave the cathedral."

"It seems the Eika intend no attack, then. Not this morning, at least. All lies at peace,"

"My lord!" The captain hurried up. "A band of some dozen horsemen has been sighted, riding hard from the north."

Lavastine jumped up and strode to the north corner of the hill. Alain thrust the cup into the hand of a servant and hurried after him. He scrambled up onto the rough platform and from there could clearly see the earthworks laid out below, ringing the hill, and
—to the north—a dozen or more riders galloping toward their position. As this group enveloped a pair of waiting outriders, one rider slowed to pass on their news. At once the scouts turned and followed the rest toward the hill.

"They ride with some urgency," observed Lavastine calmly. He beckoned to a servant. "My arms. And another glass of wine." Like Alain, he already wore sword and mail.

"That's Liath!" Alain saw scarlet flash in her Eagle's cloak.

Lavastine leaned down toward his captain. "Bring the Eagle to me as soon as she enters camp. Let the other captains assemble." When he turned back to Alain, he regarded the young man with a seriousness that made Alain flush with more than wine
—with a dreadful anticipation, a fluttering in his stomach. "No matter what is said, or left unsaid, you must trust me, Alain. Your part is to defend this hill." His gaze shifted to encompass the expanse of fields stretching eastward toward the river and Gent, which lay silent and peaceful under the new sun. "How quiet it is this morning," he added softly.

Voices swelled below, a hubbub of excited speech and shouting. The captain rode up the hill, Liath right behind him. Her horse was foundering and, as soon as she dismounted, a servant led it away.

"My lord count!"

He lifted a hand for silence and counted his captains: Lord Geoffrey, Lord Wichman, Lady Amalia, Lord Dedi of Autun. The sergeants had already assembled. "Eagle, give us your report."

Out it spilled so quickly that Alain could scarcely make sense of it: an illusion that appeared as
no
illusion? the Eika attacking now? With each phrase she glanced east, her expression so transparent that Alain thought he could read each least slight grimace or widening of eyes. She was not as afraid of what she claimed to see as of how her news would be received by her listeners.

They all looked. They could not help it, her gaze drew their own so strongly toward the plain lying bright and empty between their position and the distant city of Gent.

There was nothing there, no army racing toward them, no drums beating to sound the advance.

Nothing but the quiet land under the morning sun.

"Ai, Lady," she burst out at last, seeing their skeptical expressions.

Alain stepped forward.

Seeing him, she reached toward him like a supplicant. Sorrow and Rage, growling softly, retreated behind him, and old Terror whined and slunk back behind Lavastine. "Lord Alain! You
must
believe me. They're halfway across the plains. They'll overwhelm us if we aren't ready for them
—if they don't overwhelm us with sheer numbers!" She grabbed Alain's arm. Rage snapped at her just as Lavastine began to protest this liberty, but Alain called Rage down and, with a look at his father, gained silence. "Don't you
see?"
she cried, gesturing toward the east.

He murmured under his breath. "I pray you, Lady of Battles, let me see with her sight. Let me see with the inner heart, not the outer seeming."

In the late summer heat, waves of heat often rippled off the fields and rocks. It was like that now, a distortion over the fields, an image of peace blurring and changing, dust rising in a haze to cloud the sun
—

There!
Jogging at a ground-eating pace came the war bands of the Eika, drums pounding at their backs, their shields a blur of blue and yellow. They had already covered three quarters of the distance from city to camp; the haze of dust marked their passage. In all there were a dozen or more units, each one marked out by spears decorated with feathers, bones, and tattered strips of cloth braided into streamers. Each unit contained many more than a hundred Eika
—and all had dogs loping beside them.

"Lord have mercy!" exclaimed Alain. "There are at least three times as many of them as of us!"

"There's no one there at all!" scoffed Lady Amalia.

"And no illusion to see through," added Lord Wichman.

"That
is the illusion," said Liath, her tone ragged as she stared at Alain with hope flaring in her eyes.

Wichman snorted. "Ai, I've had experience with these Eika," he began, "and there was always some fearsome sight to be seen
—" He faltered as Count Lavastine moved up beside Alain.

"What do you see, son? Like the others, I see nothing."

Alain could only whisper. "It's true. What she says is true."

"This is not what I had planned for," said the count, as if to himself. Then, with no change of expression, he turned to his captain. "To arms! Sound the horn!" The captain signaled, and at once the blare of the horn lifted, a high note caught in faint echoes off the distant bluffs. The camp came alive with movement as soldiers prepared for battle and manned both outer rampart at the base of the hill and the inner one near the top which used the slope to best effect.

Then, and only then, did the count's eyes widen with astonishment as he stared eastward. His expression hardened as he examined the tide of Eika. He set a hand on Alain's shoulder, and for the space of three breaths they stood thus, together, as the Eika flooded toward them over the fields. Finally he turned even as the captains uttered oaths or caught in gasps, at last seeing through the illusion. By now they could hear the howling of the Eika dogs and the ululations of the screaming Eika. The drums shuddered like thunder through the air.

"My captains!" Lavastine caught their attention and held it with his gaze and his posture. A servant ran up beside the platform and handed his helmet and a cup of wine up to him. This cup he passed among those assembled before him.

"There are more Eika than I hoped, but all is not lost. Our plan remains the same. Alain, stay on the hill. You, and the bulk of our army, which holds the hill, are the anvil. I, with the cavalry, will be the hammer. Had we more warning, we would have had more chance to strike them unawares from the rear
—but nevertheless our only hope is to use our cavalry to destroy them on the field. Assemble your riders." Each took a drink from the cup, pledging their courage and strength, and left. Only Lavastine's cap
‍
tain and the Eagle remained, together with Lavastine's personal servants, themselves armed and ready with shields hitched across their backs and spears in hand.

"Alain." He touched the cup to his own lips and then handed it to Alain. "I will return to you through the Eika host and meet you here. God's grace upon you, son. Trust our captain, who will remain beside you. Trust your own instincts. You are a born soldier."

He leaned forward and kissed Alain on the forehead. Stunned, Alain could only drop to his knees before the count and grab his hand, to kiss it.

"Do not kneel before me," said the count irritably, lifting him up. "You are my heir and need kneel before no one but God."

"I will not fail you, Father," said Alain, surprised he could speak at all.

"Of course you won't! Eagle, attend me."

Liath cast a glance over her shoulder, but only one, as she hurried after the count. The hounds, barking, tails whipping with excitement, clustered around Alain as he watched them go.

The cavalry assembled on the western side of the hill, hidden from the Eika assault
— or so Liath prayed. She tried to estimate their numbers, perhaps three hundred in all. Behind, the infantry who had dug into the hill numbered at most twice that many. As she moved down the hill with the count, he inquired of the other business she had been about.

"The river's mouth is chained. One Eika ship already has been destroyed. We found the tunnel."

Lavastine watched as the units formed up under their banners: the black hounds of Lavas behind him, the red eagle of Fesse behind Lady Amalia, Lord Wiehman and his men at the head of the gold lion of Saony, Lord Dedi with the raven tower of Autun and the
guivre
of Arconia. "How far from here to the tunnel?"