I was back to hurting in the mornings again and I didn't like it (Oregano).
That day we met the first refugees coming the other way. They didn't look much like refugees. They had wagons piled with possessions, livestock, horses, their wealth intact. They were ahead of the game, making sure they kept what they had, taking no chances. There weren't that many. Less than a dozen such groups. Clearly landowners who should be taking up arms. The moral dregs of our society, in other words. Doubtless Hadrin Ichal Merindis, the patron of the Geduri, had ordered troops raised to defend his lands. If not, he should have, should be on his way or have the best general in the family on his way, but may have just issued an alert to the potential danger and ordered the chieftain to deal with the problem. Of course, these were city people, not bound to this location by any really strong ties or duties. If Hadrin had not ordered a raising of troops they were blameless and the blame was with their patron. Still, a moral coward is as bad or worse than any other type.
A little after noon my attention was snatched from my general reverie by a messenger thundering past me, heading the same direction. A thunder of hooves, a quick glimpse of movement as he passed, and then faded away. Not that unusual, but he had been beating the horse and shouting it on, and he was already here. Urgent news then. Urgent news in a war is always bad news. Always.
I caught Kerral's eye and he nodded grimly. Something bad.
A few minutes later battle horns sounded and were repeated down the line and the whole army came to a halt. More horns, reinforced with the shouts of centurions, and the whole army about turned. Including us.
“What the hell?”
More horns. March. Repeated. Quick march. Repeated. At the double.
In far less than a minute we were turned around and heading back the way we came, and faster. “I'm going to find out what the heck is going on.”
“Yes sir,” Kerral approved.
Tul was in conversation with an officer I vaguely recognized as one of Orthand's as I caught up to him, so I didn't have long to wait.
“The Alendi have stolen a march on us. They are across the border behind us as much as twenty or thirty thousand strong, maybe more.”
“Damn. What about my cohort?”
“What about them?”
“Sorry sir. I meant, what about the Orduli?”
He frowned and I let him think, fearing to press the point. I would but I could also wait first.
“I'll go make the case for it. You and me to go ahead with the original plan. If he says no, how do you feel about doing it anyway?”
“Going it alone?”
“Exactly.”
Hell. Not what I had in mind, but the idea had a certain appeal. I said yes before I rationalized myself out of it. Equal numbers we could handle.
He went and I worried at it. There was historical precedent. Two cohorts, or more if Sheo had got them, against potentially twenty thousand. Even if it were that bad we could do it. I groaned softly and stretched my back. I was suddenly glad of the pain Sapphire had inflicted, the lessons learned, and that my body was being reminded of what is needed to be a swordsman.
He was back before I knew it.
“He agreed after I made it clear I was going anyway. Pass the word by mouth, he doesn't want any confusion with signals. Gatren, Pel, Shendoko!” The three commanders called were there in seconds. “Pass the word to the centurions, no signals, peel off the road and circle about and it better be smooth! Why are you still here?”
Good question. I went.
The maneuver didn't go nearly as fast as when the full army had turned about, but in a few minutes we had marched in a half circle and were back on the road behind the rearguard. Messengers flew about and the new order of march was organized and made to happen. Equestes, Tulian, me, the mules and servants, more equestes.
“Wagons. Kerral, compliments to the commander and I respectfully inquire if we have remembered to inform our portion of the baggage train.”
“You send me with the stupid question?” He muttered it so lightly that I could pretend not to hear him, and did.
In a while he was back. “He's doing it.”
I resisted the urge to ask if he was doing it now or had already done it. It didn't matter. I was still trying to think if there was anything I had forgotten. Didn't think so. Didn't stop thinking.