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As he debouched from the Gap he encountered eastbound allies from Hellin
Daimiel, Libiannin, Dunno Scuttari, the Guild, and several of the Lesser
Kingdoms. Auric Lauder commanded about thirty thousand men. Ragnarson borrowed
Lauder's knights to screen his retreat.
He didn't try correcting himself. Baxendala was irrevocably lost. Shinsan
still outnumbered him three to one, with better troops.
Lauder followed the example of previous allies and accepted Bragi as
commander.
In thought, Ragnarson began laying the groundwork for the next phase, Fabian,
accepting battle only in favorable circumstances, playing for time, trying to
wear the enemy down.
THIRTY-TWO: Defeat. Defeat. Defeat.
Fahrig. Vorgreberg. Lake Turntine. Staake-Armstead, also called the Battles of
the Fords. Trinity Hills, in Altea. The list of battles lost lengthened.
Detached legions, supported by Magden Norath's night things, conquered
Volstokin and Anstokin. Badalamen, by slim margins, kept overcoming the
stubborn resistance of Ragnarson's growing army.
He reinforced his northern spearhead. It drove through Ruderin and curved
southward into Korhana and Vorhangs. Haaken Blackfang, with a hasty melange of
knights, mercenar-ies, and armed peasants, stopped the drive at Aucone.
Ragnerson extricated himself from envelopment in Altea. Badalamen ran a
spearhead south, through Tamerice, hoping eventually to meet the northern
thrust at the River Scarlotti, behind Bragi.
Reskird Kildragon harried the Tamerice thrust but refused battle. Tamerice's
army had been decimated in Ravelin.
Then Badalamen paused to reorganize and refit. He faced Ragnarson across a
plain in Cardine just forty miles short of the sea and cutting the west in
two.
In the Kapenrungs, Megelin bin Haroun chose to ignore the threat behind him.
He launched another campaign against Al Rhemish and El Murid.
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"Damn! Damn! Damn!" Ragnarson swore when the news arrived. "Don't he have a
lick of sense?" He had counted on Megelin thinking like his father, had
anticipated that the Royalists would conduct guerrilla war behind Badalamen's
main force.
He sat before his tent with Liakopulos, Visigodred, his son, and officers from
most of the nations which had sent troops.
This ragtag army was the biggest gathered since the El Murid Wars.
"I think we've done well," said Liakopulos. Hawkwind and Lauder nodded. "We've
managed to keep from being destroyed by the best army in the world."
Lord Hartteoben, an Itaskian observer, agreed. "The persistence of your
survival continues to amaze everyone."
"Uhm." Bragi surveyed his army.
It wasn't especially dangerous, despite its size. The demands of constant
retreat hadn't given him time to organize and integrate. New contingents had
to be thrown in immediately. Often his captains didn't speak the language of
their neighbors in the line.
"Why shouldn't he?" Ragnar asked. "El Murid is Shinsan's client now." He
stirred the fire with the tip of a crutch. He had been injured at Aucone.
Haaken had sent him south to keep him from getting himself killed. He was too
impetuous.
"Maybe. But I wish he'd helped us instead. Haroun would've seen that getting
El Murid ain't worth a damn if the rest of the west goes."
At least the west now believed an eastern threat existed. But mobilizations
hadn't helped yet. A battalion arrived now, a regiment then. Too little
relative to the task.
The political question of who should be the supreme commander hadn't yet been
posed. That the generals of major nations should be commanded by the Marshall
of a country village-state like Ravelin seemed implausible to Ragnarson. He
considered Hawkwind the best man. But his allies remained impressed with his
ability to evade disaster.
Hawkwind didn't want the job anyway. He had had enough of command politics
during the El Murid Wars.
"When'll we see help from Itaskia?" Bragi asked Visigodred. The wizard had
been home several times and been able to produce just Lord Hartteoben and
another thousand bowmen. Itaskia was husbanding her resources to fight on home
ground.
Ragnarson had rebuilt his cavalry advantage. He pressed it mercilessly,
compelling the legions to remain close and their allies to stay within the
protective umbrella of Badalamen's genius.
Marco and Radeachar hunted and exterminated the creatures of Magden
Norath-excepting the savan dalage, the disease without a cure. The Tervola
transported them backalmost as fast as Radeachar hauled them away. Varthlokkur
and the Unborn tried burying them in caverns on islands in the ocean, but even
there the Tervola found them.
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Shinsan's sorcerers had to be exterminated before the savan dalage could be
solved permanently.
The Tervola wouldn't permit that.
For the time being, then, there was a thaumaturgic impasse.
At least, Bragi thought, if defeated, he would fall to force of arms.
The nearest town was Dichiara. The battle took its name.
It was the nadir of Ragnarson's career.
Badalamen announced himself with drums. Always Shinsan marched to the voice of [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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