"It could have been a week," said Bartolo.
It didn’t matter what they were talking about, Ronell and Bartolo always disagreed. Miro often had to act as mediator otherwise he was sure a fight would have broken out by now.
"What are you saying? You’d rather they didn’t tell us?" Ronell said.
Miro tried not to think about what he was eating. He just focussed on the action of bringing the spoon to his mouth and swallowing.
"No, of course not. I just think they’re not used to having people like us in the field, that’s all," Bartolo said.
"People like us?"
"You know what I mean,” Bartolo said, “recruits. We’re supposed to be in the Dunwood learning these things. Not here."
"If you can’t handle it, I’m sure they’ll let you go home," said Ronell.
"Hey! You were the one complaining just now!"
"Quit it, you two," said Miro. "They just forgot. That’s all."
One of the bladesingers, Huron Gower, probably the friendliest of the aloof bunch, had chuckled when he saw the sodden recruits one day.
"Try this," he had laughed, naming a sequence of runes. "Have some dignity and never fear, you’ll be bladesingers one day."
Since then they’d all glowed softly, the rain sliding off their armoursilk rather than wetting it through. It was a great improvement, to say the least. The rain still got under their clothing, still wet their hair and ran down their necks, but their enchanted garments stayed dry.
"Think of those poor guys," said Bartolo, indicating with his head.
They could hear it at all times, the pinging sound of the rain bouncing off the steel of the soldiers’ armour.
"What we need is action," said Miro. "We need to take the initiative instead of moving slowly through the forest, like a lumbering beast bashing its way through the undergrowth."
"What would you do?" said Ronell.
Bartolo interjected, "I’d get the Primate to cut off the Emperor’s essence, sit the High Lords down in a small room, and not let them come out until they’ve agreed we need a new Emperor."
"I know, I know," said Ronell. "Miro?"
The speed of Miro’s response made it clear he’d thought about it. "Attack. Take the initiative. I’d split the army and form a second, fast-moving force—"
"Bladesingers gather!" a voice called out. "Raiding party!"
"Be careful what you wish for," Ronell said soberly.
~
RONELL glanced at Bartolo, who glanced at Miro.
They stood in a large circle. It was the way the bladesingers always held their meetings. Miro counted roughly seventy bladesingers, a lethal force but not a huge one. They stood impassively — weapons that had yet to be unleashed. The rain didn’t seem to bother them at all. They all glowed softly and the drops never seemed to touch them.
Blademaster Rogan waited until they were assembled and then spoke without preamble.
"A division of the legion is encamped inside a narrow gorge, Harlan’s Canyon, the Halrana call it. The scouts have reported they’re unaware of this army so close by.
"We can’t leave them at our backs. Prince Leopold has come up with a plan to bottle them up with a force at either end of the canyon. Bear in mind — the canyon is narrow. So narrow that it will be strength, rather than numbers that will win the day. That’s where we come in.
"The plan is to put an elite group at either end of the gorge. At one end will be the veterans, the most experienced of our soldiers, equipped with enchanted armour, shields, swords and spears. At the other end will be us, the bladesingers." He looked around steadily. "This army’s deadliest weapon."
"Altura!" the men growled, their voices deep.
Rogan continued. "After engagement, the more mobile of the two forces, the bladesingers, are to melt back into the valley, where the legion will pursue them and encounter the main force. The remainder of this army will lie in wait."
There was silence for a moment.
Bladesinger Porlen spoke up. A small man with wiry strength, he was one of the more vocal bladesingers. "This is not a good plan. You do not cage a beast."
"Care to be more specific?" Blademaster Rogan said.
"The legion’s backs will be against the wall. There is nowhere for them to run. You should always give your enemy an escape route."
"Prince Leopold’s plan is for them to have that escape route."
Porlen shook his head. "But not initially. They will see fierce enemies on all sides. They will fight like demons, for they will see it is a fight to the death."
"All the more reason for us to follow the plan to the letter, then."
Porlen just shook his head, murmuring to one of his fellows.