The Seer King: Book One of the Seer King Trilogy Read Online Free PDF Page A

the
only
orders I propose to follow.”
    I didn’t wait for his response, but shouted for Bikaner. Fill canteens from the water barrels on the wagons, each trooper draw one pound of dry rations — beef jerked with mountain berries — and we would ride. Ten minutes later we clattered off, at the trot, down the trail.
    I sent two riders ahead, with orders to stay within eyesight of the troop, to wait short of any possible ambuscade until we drew almost to it, and then to ride through at the gallop. I changed these scouts every half hour.
    This was a deadly risk, but I thought it had a chance of succeeding. First, because we were moving faster than the hillmen could, even though they had the fleetness of mountain antelope afoot, and also because
no one
traveled through the Border States in this manner.
    I wished we had infantry in support, since sending cavalry through broken terrain without keen eyes afoot to spot a spearman lying in wait is waiting to be destroyed. I had even dreamed of a way to move them faster: either to have them ride behind us, and dismount when we made contact; or even hanging onto our stirrups, which I’d done as a lad when there were five of us and only one horse. Hard on horses, hard on men — but I thought it could work. This later became one of the emperor’s most prized tactics to surprise the enemy. But I had not time to explain it to Captain Mellet nor to train his troops in the method.
    We moved until it was too dark to see, then made a cold camp, lighting no fires, and keeping half the men on watch.
    I slept not at all, and when I could distinguish my hand in front of my face ordered the men up and on.
    Two hours after sunrise, we heard the screams of dying horses, the shouts of men fighting for their lives.
    • • •
    I found later that Laish Tenedos had kept his party moving from first to last light, hurrying to get through Sulem Pass to offer the least temptation to the Men of the Hills, not believing in the storied safe-conduct pass. This day, they’d set out at dawn, and had reached the plateau where the Sulem River that came from Sayana curved and left the pass.
    They’d seen no enemies, been harassed by no hidden bowmen. They thought that a good sign, none of the party having any experience in these mountains, whereas a Lancer would have taken the greatest alarm, knowing some terrible and vast trap was being laid ahead.
    I heard the noise, just as the two men on point galloped back and reported fighting — they thought it was the party we sought, because there were elephants down — at the ford.
    I was about to shout for the attack, just as the books say foolish cavalrymen do whenever they hear the clang of swords, but caught myself, remembering there might well be flankers ready, and we could hurtle straight into another trap — this one prepared for rescuers.
    I told Lance Major Wace to ready the troop for battle and, with Troop Guide Bikaner, rode forward a ways, then dismounted and went on foot until we could see the valley in front. We flattened and considered the scene.
    From this moment until the end of the battle, I shall describe the action as clearly as I can, since this, the Meeting Between Damastes á Cimabue and the Young Seer Tenedos, at the Battle of Sulem Pass, is one of the best-known scenes in Numantia’s recent history, familiar in paintings, songs, tales, and murals and presented in a manner either foolishly romantic, absurd, or so filled with Great Portent it should be a religious ceremony. Only our final stand, years later on the blood-soaked field of Cambiaso, is more widely portrayed.
    Let us start with the facts of the battle. There were perhaps 600 Men of the Hills on one side, and less than 350 Numantians on the other. This was fairly large for a fight in the Border States, but hardly the horizon-to-horizon clash I’ve seen it painted as.
    I saw no anxious gods overhanging the battlefield, nor demons fighting on either side. Nor had there been any