Page 103 of The Summer Pass

“Yes, I’m all right.”

“I shouldn’t be gone long. If all goes well.”

“No,” said Lill. “Not long at all.”

Vanu cupped Lill’s face in his hands and kissed him, and Lill expected it to be brief and chaste, because there were other people there; but it was dark, and they were married. It was a long, thorough kiss.

Chapter 34

As a Mountain Stream

The day of the battle dawned hot and sultry, the air still and thick with moisture, unusual weather in the mountains. There was mist down in the valley below Tagra Degra. When Shan and Zaraz walked to the top of the meadow behind the forge, the camp of the besieging army was almost hidden from view, banners on the tops of tents poking forlornly out of the mist like wrecks at sea.

“I heard there was fighting overnight,” Shan remarked. “They saw something, or heard something I guess, from the watch tower. Men came out from the fortress. A—what did Lill call it?”

“A sortie,” said Zaraz, remembering. “When they come out of the fortress to try to chase the attackers away. I guess it didn’t work.”

“I wish we knew how Lill is doing,” said Shan, voicing Zaraz’s own thoughts.

She looked at the lion banner that hung from the tallest tower of Tagra Degra, limp now in the still air, just a scrap of black and gold at this distance. And then, beyond it, she saw the first of the Lion’s troops emerge from the forest. She gasped and pointed.

Their leaders were on horseback, but the main body of the force was on foot. The sunlight glinted on pale hair, weapons, and armour. They kept coming, pouring out of the forest.

“There’s so many of them,” Shan murmured.

The mist was streaming away from the valley now, moving surprisingly quickly and exposing the Zashian camp. Zaraz imagined the soldiers looking up at the western slope and seeing the army that had emerged from nowhere. In the wind that had picked up, the lion banners that Vanu’s troops were carrying unfurled to proclaim whose force this was.

“Angels of the Almighty, I wouldn’t want to be with the Zashian troops now,” said Shan. “You can see from here they’re not ready for a fight.”

Zaraz nodded. The Zashian camp looked disorganized, strewn about, like the public rooms of the hostel after a busy night. Urártu’s men on the mountainside were drawn up into tight ranks, keen and ready for battle. It wasn’t the way the bandits in the Passes were said to fight; weren’t they supposed to come yelling and running out of the trees in a mob?

“Shouldn’t they have attacked before the fog lifted?” said Zaraz. “If they really wanted to take the army by surprise.”

“Mm. I’d think that would be dangerous, though. Nobody could see what they were doing. You could attack your own comrade by accident. Don’t you think?”

“I guess so.”

“Also, it wouldn’t exactly be honourable, would it?”

“Well, no, but … “

“But you didn’t think these people cared about that?” said Shan wryly.

She shook her head. “I know by now that’s not true.”

He reached for her hand and squeezed it. “We do, don’t we?”

They sat for a little while in silence. “Who do you think has superior numbers?” she said finally.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to say when you can’t see everyone. Because of the tents—and some of the newcomers may still be in the forest.”

From the front lines of the force on the mountain came the sound of trumpets, brassy and shrill, echoing across the valley. Zaraz thought that would signal a charge, but they held their position. She could see the troops in the camp scrambling to get ready for battle, tiny figures running around between the tents. There was an obvious difference between the Zashian camp, closer to the gate of Tagra Degra, and the Sukiyan mercenaries, camped further back in the bottom of the valley. The Sukiyans had smaller, simpler tents, and they were taking them down swiftly. The Zashians looked disorganized by comparison.

“Oh, now who are they?” Shan murmured. “Look.”

Zaraz followed his pointing finger and saw a new force coming out into the valley, also from the west but much lower down. These troops were all mounted, dressed in green and gold, riding together in a way that even Zaraz, who was no expert in horsemanship, could tell must mean they were some kind of elite force. And from their head, trumpet blasts echoed those of the mountain men.

“Does that mean they’re on the same side?” Zaraz asked Shan. “Or what does it mean?”