Captain's Fury (Page 7)

"Forty-two hundred," Max replied promptly. For all his complaining, the big Antillan was every bit the trained observer Tavi was. In fact, Tavi trusted his friend’s estimate over his own.

Tavi frowned, thinking. "Figure one cohort for camp security…"

"… and one more for scouting ahead and behind as they march," Max continued the thought.

"Bloody crows." Tavi sighed. "A full Legion."

Max let out a grim sound of agreement. "Looks that way."

Tavi felt a cold little shiver run along his belly.

In the valley below, an army of Canim marched steadily through the dry grass. The wolf-headed warriors moved with steady purpose, a good three thousand of them spread in a loose, horseshoe-shaped arrangement around a core of solid, heavily armored troops marching in ranks. Three thousand raiders shifting position would not have stirred Tavi to launch any kind of assault. Conscripted Canim, with a minimum of military discipline, the raiders were dangerous only by virtue of their numbers and their tremendous size and strength. The average Cane stood between seven and eight feet tall, and that was in their standard, half-crouched posture. Standing erect, they would have been a foot taller than that, and the sheer speed and power held within those lean frames was terrifying.

Still, the Canim army now occupying much of the territory of the cities of Ceres and Kalare could afford to lose three thousand of their dregs. It was the core of disciplined troops marching at their center, members of the elite Canim warrior caste, that had drawn Tavi from the fortifications.

A thousand of those hardened, disciplined, supremely dangerous troops represented a tithe of the Canim’s total number of heavy infantry. In all their clashes with the Canim, the First Aleran had killed a relatively limited number of the warrior caste. Canim losses had been almost universally drawn from among their raiders. Nasaug, the leader of the Canim forces, never used his best troops except in devastatingly well-timed assaults, and the vast majority of Aleran losses had been at the hands of the Canim warrior caste.

Ehren’s report of a thousand of them shifting position had represented an opportunity to inflict serious harm upon Nasaug’s troops. A thousand were not so many as to be undefeatable, but more than enough to represent a significant loss to the enemy’s prize corps of troops. When Tavi had learned which territory they were moving through, he had ordered his most mobile and dangerous units into the field at once.

The Canim warriors were walking through a death trap.

This particular valley had remarkably steep walls, and the lattice of tiny streams that ran through it provided enough water to ensure a growth of luxuriant grass-which had not yet flushed into the lush, verdant sea of green it would become within a few more weeks. For now, it was a ten-mile-long, one-mile-wide box filled with kindling and a thousand of Nasaug’s finest.

The First Aleran’s Knights Ignus were already in position, with the far more numerous Knights Aeris beside them. At Tavi’s signal, the Knights Ignus would set the valley ablaze while the Knights Aeris used their furies to call forth a gale and send a sudden riptide of fire and fury over the foe. The Battlecrows stood at the head of the valley, ready to set a backfire and blockade the valley’s only means of egress, while Max’s cavalry stood ready to sweep down from the other end of the valley and crush any Canim who managed to escape immolation.

Which was why the second Legion marching beside the Canim company was a problem.

They were Alerans.

Better than four thousand Alerans in full Legion regalia marched beside the most dangerous historic foes of the Realm, under banners that did not correspond to any of the great cities of Alera. Worse, they were moving in good order. Two years ago, Tavi would never have understood how difficult such an apparently simple maneuver actually was. It took serious discipline to achieve such uniform movement, and was evidence of a disturbing amount of competence on behalf of whoever was training those troops.

"Give me a lens, please," Tavi said quietly.

The big Antillan rose a little, leaned over Tavi, and held his hands out on either side of Tavi’s face, fingers spread. The air between Max’s palms blurred, and suddenly the force below them seemed to rush hundreds of yards closer, as Max’s furies bent the air, magnifying Tavi’s view.

"Those aren’t Kalaran banners," Tavi murmured after a moment’s study.

Max let out a skeptical grunt. "Maybe Kalare didn’t want to be openly associated with them."

"He’s already attacked his neighbors without warning, kidnapped several family members of his fellow High Lords, and had dozens and dozens of Citizens murdered by his pet maniacs," Tavi pointed out. "You really think he’s worried about covering up his involvement with the Canim at this point?"

"Put that way," Max said. "No."

Tavi let out a little snort of a breath. "Take a look at their gear."

Max moved his hands up to hold before his own face. A moment later, he reported, "It’s old. I mean, everything looks to be in pretty good shape, but the armor is of a design that went out of use years ago. There are lots of missing pieces, too. Mismatched greaves, nonstandard-length spears, that kind of thing." Max grunted. "Never seen any banners like that, either. Brown and green? Who uses brown and green for banners? They’re supposed to be visible. That’s the point of banners."

"Exactly," Tavi said quietly, watching the enemy column’s progress.

"They’re almost in position," Max said, lowering his hands. "Once their leading elements hit that old streambed, there’s no way they’re getting out in time."

"I see them," Tavi said.

Max nodded and said nothing for a minute. Tavi watched the disciplined but partially equipped Legion march steadily in step with the far larger Canim.

"Sir," Max said, "they’re in position. It’s time to signal Crassus, sir."

"It doesn’t make sense, Max," Tavi said. "This has got to be a Legion of volunteers from within the occupied territory. Why would they be fighting beside an army of invaders?"

"Who knows? Maybe Nasaug is forcing them into it. Holding their families prisoner or something."

"No," Tavi said. "Nasaug is too smart for that. You don’t take a man’s home and family away, demand that he serve and obey you, and then put a weapon in his hand and give him four thousand friends just as angry and well armed as he is."

"Sir," Max said, "at this point, the longer we delay the attack, the more the Canim vanguard is going to be able to pressure the Battlecrows at the head of the valley."