Page 104 of The Summer Pass

“Your guess is as good as mine.”

“I think that’s what it means,” she said, after some moments, as they watched the scene unfold below. “The army in the camp isn’t acting as if they just got reinforcements.”

Vanu Urartu’s men began clashing their swords on their shields, and the elite horsemen took up the same rhythm with their spears.

“I’m pretty sure you’re right,” said Shan. “I’d say the numbers are about even now, too.”

Zaraz thought he was right. Certainly the camped army didn’t have a definite advantage anymore. And it looked like they had noticed it. At least some of them had. There was a surge of movement in the Zashian camp, soldiers running downhill, away from Tagra Degra, toward the place where the river had been broken up into little streams in the bottom of the valley. Maybe they’d been ordered to retreat, or maybe they were running away; Zaraz had no idea how you would tell from this distance. Whatever the case, they had to go through the camp of the Sukiyans, and the mercenaries had either decided to ignore the order to retreat or hadn’t received that order—maybe because nobody had given it—and they had begun to form up into a line, seizing their round shields and blocking the path of the Zashians trying to leave.

“Holy God, what are they doing?” Shan breathed.

“Fighting among themselves,” said Zaraz.

“Where do you suppose Lill is?”

“I hope he’s on the wall somewhere, watching.”

“I have heard it said that one should never hire mercenaries,” Artayarasha mused, looking out on the chaos that was Pantaresh’s siege camp. “But that is because they are supposed to be unreliable. Whereas I think the problem with those Sukiyans is they’re too eager to earn their pay.”

“I don’t suppose we’ve suborned them?” said Garda of Manáshta, who stood on the other side of Lill.

“Not to do that,” said Lill. “We want the Zashians to be able to retreat.”

“Mm. True.”

Garda didn’t sound as though he was sure about that, but Lill knew it had been part of Vanu’s plan to give Pantaresh room to retreat back out of the pass. He didn’t want heavy casualties if they could be avoided.

Sukiyans were well known to like last stands and winning against long odds. They weren’t charging the Zashian contingent, just obstructing a retreat that had clearly not been ordered by General Pantaresh. From a certain point of view, it was admirable.

The Sukiyans had formed up in an immaculate line by this point, shields at the ready, helmets on their heads, shouting something in their language that Lill couldn’t make out. The Zashians shouted back, a cacophony of demands and pleas and curses. No weapons were drawn yet.

A messenger arrived on the wall to report to Garda. “We’re in position under their ramp. Should we fire the timbers?”

Garda grinned. “Perfect timing. Do it now.”

The mining party had been working at fever pitch, apparently, and dug a tunnel all the way out under the earthen ramp that the Zashians had been building to approach the fortress walls. They had propped up the end with timbers which they now proposed to light on fire. As they burned, the earth above them should collapse, causing the ramp to slump. It was a strategy straight out of the military manuals, and no one involved had tried it before. Under the circumstances, it was probably overkill, but it was certainly a good moment to try it.

“Pass the order to Artayarasha’s men to advance,” Vanu signed, looking out over the camp.

The Zashian and Sukiyan lines were jostling against one another, in complete disarray. A sinkhole had opened up in the earthen ramp against the fortress wall, and the wooden siege tower which had been on top of it was tipping sideways, one corner falling in, flames licking at the bottom. The mining operation had worked remarkably well.

The trumpeters blew the signal, and Artayarasha’s well-drilled troops formed up for attack. The Sukiyans reacted promptly. Their commander gave an order, and they wheeled around to face the prince’s men, abandoning their struggle with the deserting Zashians. Some of Pantaresh’s troops, seeing their way no longer barred, pelted away down the valley, past the Sukiyan’s right flank. Others were running to put out the fire on the siege tower. A third group, who had by now had time to arm themselves, stood firm and fell in behind the Sukiyans.

It would be possible, Vanu thought, for him to sit here on his horse and watch Artayarasha’s men take on the king’s Sukiyans and the remnant of Pantaresh’s native army. The prince’s guard was mounted and held the high ground, two major advantages over the foot soldiers in the valley. Vanu glanced along the line of his own men. They wanted to fight. They were eager for it, ready to drive the lowlanders out of their land. They had told him as much.

Artayarasha was watching, and it wouldn’t be prudent to let him see his own men taking the brunt of the action while Vanu’s hung back. Lill was watching, too. Vanu didn’t want to look like a coward in front of Lill. If he was honest, he wanted to fight, too. He signed to Firuduna, “We advance,” and swung down from his horse.

He wasn’t a king or even a general. He led his men on foot because that was how he fought best, how all of them fought. They ran down the hill toward the enemy, boots pounding over the grass, leaping rocks in their path, swift as a mountain stream.

Vanu had his eye on the leader of the Sukiyans, at the front of his own line but slightly to the right of his centre, a tall, dark-skinned man with a white plume on his helmet and a gleaming breastplate. He had advised Firuduna to go for the standard, which the Sukiyans set great store by. If they could take out both, they could turn the tide here quickly.

The previous night, they had arrived at the prince’s camp in the valley very late, but Mikhi had run out of the princess’s tent and jumped into Vanu’s arms to hug him. Then she had seemed embarrassed by this display of little-girlishness and became very brisk and grown-up.

“We received your letters, of course,” she signed. “We know that you found Lill and Talking Mouth’s father and have taken back control of Tagra Degra.”

“Talking Mouth?” Vanu repeated.

“I came up with a name sign for her. Did you leave Hattu, your old steward, in charge of the fortress again?”