Clan and Crown

"I suggest further that Drantos take the center," Ganton said. "The chivalry of Drantos is best employed in a single striking mass; your legionaries are better at maneuver. And we will strike directly here-" He used the dagger to draw a thick arrow.

"You have tested the depth of the river, then?" Frugi asked.

"I have seen the Westmen crossing it," Ganton said. He held up his binoculars. "With these. At the crucial places the water comes to the bellies of the Westman ponies."

"Ah." Titus Frugi straightened from where he had bent over the map. The headquarters officers leaned forward eagerly. Frugi hesitated another moment, then asked, "What think you, Primus Pilus?"

"I think well of it, Legate," Julius Sulpicius answered.

"And there is no need to ask you, Tribune Geminius. Either you approve or you have adders under your breastplate. Very well. Tribunes, go and ready the cohorts. Wanax, how will you alert your own forces?"

"I will ride with you until we reach them," Ganton said. "If that is acceptable to you."

"More than acceptable." And I am glad enough to have you as Caesar's friend, for you would be a formidable enemy. Our military handbooks will need revision after this day, for they say that Drantos is a barbarian kingdom-and that is true no more.

33

Pfc. Passovopolous had just finished reporting the LMG back in action when Mason heard war-horns. They grew louder. A hundred Westmen rode at a gallop out of the dust across the river. Then, suddenly, the Royal Ba

"Murph!" Art shouted. "Use that one-oh-six! Targets of opportunity-"

"Rog!"

"Ark! Get ready with the LMG. Looks like they'll drive the bastards right out in front of us."

"Right," Passovopolous said.

"Reckon you were right," Murphy said. "Fire in the hole!" The 106 roared, and a white phosphorus shell burst among a cluster of Westmen trying to organize at the river bank.

"Right about what?"

"Kid knew what he was doing."

"Yeah," Mason said. He sure did.

The LMG chattered, joined by the crackle of fire from H the Westmen's abortive attempt to rally at the river bank dissolved before it was fairly begun.

Then everything happened at once. The dust-cloud erupted warriors, Drantos knights and Roman cataphracts. They charged down the river bank and straight on into the shallow river, slowing for a moment there but building momentum again. By the time they had crossed the river, the Roman and Drantos forces had mixed, clumps of Romans intermingled with the Drantos knights, both groups led by the mixed headquarters troops of both armies. It was hard to tell which crossed the river first: the golden helm of Wanax Ganton, or the scarlet cloak of Titus Frugi.

The Westmen made another attempt to rally, this time at the top of the knoll above the river bank, but a fresh group of Romans, both horsemen and cohortes equitates clinging to their bridles, appeared on their flank. The Roman infantry locked shields and advanced slowly while the cavalry sat their horses and shot down the Westmen. Meanwhile the combined force of Drantos knights and Roman lancers completed their river crossing. They dressed lines, and their officers rode up and down the line shouting. Then the wild war horns sounded, and Romans and knights alike spurred to a canter.

The Westmen couldn't stand the combination of arrows from the flanks and lances from the front. Their line buckled, then dissolved. The Allied forces charged on, and the whole battle swept out of Mason's sight into a fold in the hills.

"They'll be coming over that hill pretty quick," Mason said. "No shooting at 'em on the ridge. Wait until they're just below us. That way we're sure of what we're shooting at." He sent a ru

And now we wait, he thought. But this time we know what we're waiting for. It's all over but the mopping up.

Mad Bear's surprise at getting across the river after the first charge of Ironshirts was begi

"Stay with me!" he shouted. "We can yet win. The Ironshirts can be led into charge after charge until their horses tire, and then they are easy to kill. Stay with me!"

He was still shouting this when he saw Red Cloaks on both flanks of the Ironshirts, and more Red Cloaks at the mouth of the valley. Then he knew. The Father and the Warrior had indeed turned their backs on~ the Horse People.

The Red Cloaks came out of the dust behind their arrows and their terrible war horns, and Mad Bear knew that all the history of the Horse People would henceforth be divided by this day.

"To me!" he called. "If we ca

But few listened. The never-ending storm of Red Cloak arrows fell among the Horse People, and the Ironshirts hewed their way uphill. Their lances spitted the warriors, their great horses trampled the Horse People's mounts beneath their hooves, and their terrible iron swords and axes cut down even those who had found armor.

An arrow struck his horse in the neck, and as it reared two more took it in the chest. Two Ironshirts and three Red Cloaks cantered up the hill. They pointed at Mad Bear and spurred toward him. As they came they – shouted something to him.

Mad Bear leaped upon a rock, bow in one hand and captured sword in another. He answered the shouts of his enemies with his own war cries. Then he nocked his last arrow and took careful aim at a Red Cloak. The man ducked behind a shield, and Mad Bear hastily changed his aim point to the chest of the nearest Ironshirt. At that range it went through the man's armor, and Mad Bear shouted in triumph, but then it was too late. His enemies came on. Something struck his head. He was vaguely aware that he had dropped his sword and was falling.

Titus Frugi rode up to the spot he'd chosen for a command post, to find the starman Lord Walbrook already there. Then the Lord Mason came down the hill after the cohortes equitates relieved his Guards.

The battle was over. There were still Westmen trapped in the valley or hiding among these low hills, but organized rйsistance had ended. Now it was enough to send out detachments, preferably with officers sensible enough to try capturing Westmen chiefs alive.

Westmen fought hard. At first very few surrendered, but now that they were cut off from the river, the need to water their horses would drive them to seek quarter. When they did surrender, it was always to warriors; they would commit suicide rather than be guarded by wizards or women.

"A good day's work," the Lord Mason said.

Titus Frugi nodded judiciously. "It has been done well," he said. "And proves the alliance has value to all."

Down below, the Tamaerthan archers were wading into the river to drag dead Westmen out to the bank. "That is well done," Titus Frugi said. "But it would be well to get the dead horses out also. Else the river will be too foul for drinking-"

Mason chuckled. "I'm afraid they're not thinking of sanitation, Legate. They're after Westman gold. Most of the Tamaerthan lads came on this campaign for loot."

"Ah. There is much to share," Titus Frugi said. "The legion has collected much gold, as have the Drantos warriors. How shall this be divided? We must speak of this with the Wanax."

"Yes, sir," Mason said.

"Meantime, your pardon-" Titus Frugi turned to greet Tribune Geminius.

"Hail, Legate," the tribune called. "There are still a few bands of Westmen on the ridge across the river. They left the dismounted ones behind to cover while the rest try to escape. Should we pursue?"