A cloud of dust on the far horizon usually meant a herd of buffalo or cattle were moving across the Sea of Grass. Today Arch-Stratego Zarphu knew it was neither; it was the advancing Grefftscharrer Army. His scouts had already told him the disposition of the enemy army: six thousand infantry, mostly carrying long spears and firesticks, four thousand heavy cavalry and two thousand light auxiliaries, mostly Ruthani cavalry recruited from the grasslands. He told one of his orderlies to fetch the Highpriest.
The Highpriest Arkemanes rode quickly to his side in a very soldierly and un-priestly manner of which Zarphu heartily approved. "I see the enemy is closing."
Zarphu ignored the snorts of disapproval from his senior officers; he knew the difference between priests and soldiers even if his officers didn't. "This is not an ideal place for a battle." He paused to indicate the flat lands on all sides. "Nor is it a good place for an ambush."
The Highpriest, who no longer wore his yellow robes, nodded. "If we can defeat the Grefftscharrer Army here, we can perform both a service to Styphon and a disservice to the Usurper Kalvan. The Kings of Grefftscharr only rule as long as they show enough strength to cow both their under-lords and the powerful merchants of Greffa. It has been rumored that arms have been shipped from Greffa to the false kingdom of Hostigos. A win here will be the first victory of next year's campaign!"
Zarphu was impressed with the priest's knowledge of things other than arcane rites and offerings of his trade and wondered if he had served in a military order before putting on his robes. He had learned from the fat merchant that Styphon's House had two military arms of its own. Zarphu had tried to question Arkemanes about his past; he might have had better success with a stone, could any be found on this endless grassland.
Zarphu was not as convinced as the priest that his army-though greater in size-would be able to seize the battlefield. His knowledge of the enemy was negligible and his own army had no experience fighting against the firesticks. The Highpriest had demonstrated the noisy and smelly 'muskets' and they had proved to be capricious. The fireseed had to be dry or they would not fire. However, the muskets were deadly when fired-if they hit their target. Unlike his archers, who could hit the eye socket of an approaching enemy from a hundred paces.
His soldiers were all experienced troops-fourteen maniples of a thousand men each, eight of horse and six of foot soldiers. Plus, two maniples of the Lord Tyrant's own Immortals-heavy armored cavalry who fought with spear and broadsword.
Zarphu turned to Stratego Lyphar and ordered, "The enemy is two marches away. When they are one march, have the foot archers and skirmishers run ahead and engage the enemy. They are not to hold, but fall back and draw the enemy in."
He turned to another general and ordered him to support Lyphar's foot with his light cavalry, mostly horse-archers and javelin throwers. Then he addressed Highpriest Arkemanes. "I would have taken the river route that my scouts recommended, but I also thought it might be best to test the mettle of the Eastern ironmen."
Arkemanes looked over in surprise, and even had the grace to blush. It was the first time Zarphu had read any emotion on the priests' face. If these priestly troops of Styphon's were not soldiers at arms, they were soldiers of the heart.
"You must remember Highpriest, our records go back almost two thousand winters. We have traversed these lands and trails more times than there are nomads upon the Sea of Grass. While it is true that trade between us and the Middle Kingdoms has dwindled to a trickle, there are still among us those who trade along the old routes. Several of these are among our scouts. I am as anxious as you are to see how well my men hold against the firesticks. However, I suspect you will be the more surprised."
It was also true that Zarphu sounded more confident about his troops than he felt. His people had heard stories about these fire weapons for centuries, and had obtained more than a few over the years of trading. However, as long as the fireseed was scarce, they were more curiosities than real weapons. One of the former traders had told him that the fireseed mystery was no longer a secret. If this were true, he would take back more than gold from these distant lands. With the firesticks, the Lord Tyrant would be able to complete his conquest of the city-states and expand his reach into the Sea of Grass and maybe even farther.
The light foot soldiers began to run forward and the heavy infantry, with full body shields and long spears, went into a double time. The massed heavy cavalry followed to exploit any breaks in the enemy lines. If all went well, the archers and javelin throwers would sting the enemy army, bringing forth the more impetuous cavalry and foot. Then the skirmishers would retreat behind the shield wall and the slaughter would commence; at least, that was how it was done in the homelands. Nothing was certain against an unknown enemy-except uncertainty.