The Serpentwar Saga. Raymond E. Feist

makes a mistake before you do and getting lucky.

      ‘Calis had a plan when we started out, but once he and Nakor found what they sought out at the Queen’s camp, it’s been tossed aside and now he’s making it up as we go.’

      ‘So he’s hoping the other side makes a mistake before we do and that we’re going to get lucky?’

      ‘Something like that.’

      ‘Then I’ll say a prayer to Ruthia,’ said Erik as Greylock turned and walked away.

      Erik thought about what he had seen so far and what he had done, and was forced to concede that Greylock was right. There was little of planning and cleverness in what Calis had done since making contact with the Queen’s army, and a great deal of boldness and hoping for luck.

      Putting aside such weighty considerations, Erik decided that as long as things were settling down to routine, he’d try to get some work done on his armor and weapons. He returned to his tent and found it empty, as his three bunkmates were off working on finishing the palisades. Erik unbuckled his sword, removed his helm, and stripped off his breastplate. He grabbed a rag and some oil he had liberated from stores and began to work on his armor. He frowned when he saw how corrosion was finding niches to take hold, and set to with a vengeance to expunge all imperfections from his breastplate.

      A rider came speeding over the rise, pushing his lathered horse up the trail for all he was worth. Erik instantly turned and shouted, ‘Rider coming in!’

      De Loungville had the men racing for weapons and taking up positions before the rider reached the gate. Recognizing the rider as one of their own, Erik motioned for the bridge to be run out. The moat and rampart camp had been turned into a first-rate base since Calis had run off Nahoot’s company. They had found a wandering herd of bison down a ways in the woods, and some deer, as well as a good supply of nuts. With the food liberated from Nahoot’s Grand Company, they were amply provisioned for the time being.

      As the rider reached the bridge he reined in, dismounting as quickly as he could. He led the horse across the bridge, which flexed and creaked alarmingly, but which held better than Erik had expected. Shrinking the leather had helped, and it would serve, but it still made him nervous each time a horse was walked across.

      The rider tossed the reins to Erik and ran past him to where de Loungville and Calis were approaching. ‘It’s the greenskins,’ he shouted.

      ‘Where?’ asked de Loungville.

      ‘Down the trail. It’s a large patrol, maybe twenty of them. They don’t seem to be in any hurry.’

      Calis thought for a moment. ‘Tell the men to stand down. I want us looking alert, but I don’t want anything suspicious.’

      Erik passed the word as he led the rider’s horse away. He found Luis on duty around the picket and told him to walk the horse for a while, to cool her out, then to rub her down and feed her.

      He returned in time to see men back at their normal posts, but noticed that every man had a weapon close to hand and many looked on edge. As he walked by, he quietly said, ‘Take it easy,’ or ‘Relax. You’ll know soon enough if there’s going to be trouble.’

      Still, it was a painfully slow twenty minutes until the first of the Saaur hove into view. Erik studied them, for he had been too busy staying alive the last time he saw them mounted to study them carefully. Roo came to stand beside him and said, ‘That’s some sight.’

      ‘Say what you will about the greenskins, but they know how to sit those impossible mounts of theirs.’

      The Saaur rode with long legs and easy seats, as if they had spent their lives on horseback. Each rider had a short bow slung across the back of his saddle, and Erik said a silent prayer that the company they had faced before had tried to charge them rather than stand off and shoot. Most of them carried round shields, made of hide over wood, marked with symbols alien to Erik. The leader wore a plume of horsehair dyed blue tied up in a large obsidian ring, affixed to a metal skullcap. The others wore simple metal helms that had large flaring sides and bar-nasals. When the last riders came into view, Erik quickly counted. There were twenty of them, followed by a baggage train of four more horses.

      When they reached the camp, they halted and the leader shouted. ‘Where is Nahoot?’

      His accent was thick and he tended to roar, but he could be understood. De Loungville, wearing a helm that covered his eyes, moved to the other side of the bridge. ‘What is it?’ he shouted.

      ‘What have you to report?’

      Calis had thought on this and had instructed every man, save the new recruits from Nahoot’s company, in what was coming next. ‘We were ambushed by some men trying to come down this road. We routed them and chased them back up into the mountains.’

      ‘What!’ roared the Saaur leader. ‘You were told to send a messenger if you found any of those trying to leave the mountains.’

      ‘We sent one!’ shouted de Loungville, trying his best to sound angry. ‘Are you claiming he never reached you?’

      ‘I claim nothing, human,’ shouted the angry Saaur. ‘When did this happen?’

      ‘Less than a week ago!’

      ‘A week!’ The Saaur shouted something in his own language and half his company started up the trail. The leader said, ‘We need provisions. You will leave and return to the host. I am not pleased.’

      ‘Well, you can bet I’m not pleased you went and lost my runner,’ shouted de Loungville. ‘I’m going to make sure General Fadawah hears of this!’

      ‘And imps of the evening will come to have sex with you because you are so lovely,’ snapped back the officer. Erik suddenly relaxed. If the Saaur was going to fight, he wouldn’t be trading insults with de Loungville while dismounting. Whoever this officer was, he had accepted that de Loungville was Nahoot and was content to trade insults with him while the two companies changed places.

      ‘Any trouble with the Gilani?’

      ‘No,’ grunted the Saaur officer. ‘Our riders have chased the little hairy humans back into the mountains to the north of here. The ride will be so quiet you may sleep in the saddle.’ He moved onto the bridge and his huge horse’s weight made it creak alarmingly, but it held even if it did bow under the load. He led his animal into camp without noticing. Erik gave a silent prayer of thanks that it held. And he was pleased he wasn’t going to be around to see if the bridge held after repeated Saaur use.

      De Loungville shouted, ‘Break camp! I want every man mounted and ready to ride in ten minutes!’

      Erik hurried, for like every man there, he knew the longer they were around the Saaur, the better the chance someone would let something slip that would start a fight. He hurried to his tent, with Roo beside him, and found Biggo and Luis already setting about breaking things down. ‘Roo,’ said Erik, ‘grab my kit. I’m going to keep an eye on Nahoot’s men.’

      Roo spared Erik any barb about ducking work, and merely said, ‘I’ll take care of it.’

      Erik moved to where the twenty men from Nahoot’s company waited and saw they were muttering among themselves. Not giving them any chance to decide they might be better off turning Calis in to the Saaur, he shouted, ‘Get over to those horses and start bringing them up! I want the first six for the officers. Then start bringing them up to the first tent, then the second, and the third, until every other man has a mount. Then get your own gear together and get mounted. Understood!’ His tone, as loud and ferocious as he could make it, imparted the proper message: the last wasn’t a question, it was a command.

      The twenty men moved quickly, several saying, ‘Yes, Corporal,’ as they half walked, half ran to the remounts.

      De Loungville showed up less than a minute later and said, ‘Where are the newcomers?’

      Erik pointed. ‘I’ve got them bringing up the horses for the others, and I’ll keep