Hellsbane stood as steady as a statue under her, ignoring the screams and the whirring of arrows all around her. Ancar’s forces floundered in the mud for long enough to lose plenty of men, before the armored officers that weren’t dropped by the crossbows pulled them back into the cover of the mist. A few moments later, Kero heard the whistled signal farther up the line, then the whir of arrows and the shouts and cries of pain started all over again, off beyond the wall of fog.

We probably aren’t doing more than nibble away at him, she thought, trying to judge the size of the army from the sounds in the murk. But right now I’ll bet the front rank isn’t a very popular place to be.

But the sun began to break through the clouds, and the drizzle lessened. Whether Ancar had weather-working mages with him, or whether it was just the time for the weather to clear, Kero couldn’t tell. It looks natural enough, she decided, as the sun became a visible disk through the overcast. Well, no streak of luck runs forever.

Ancar’s officers had figured out what was happening, too; the sounds from out of the mist quieted, except for the moaning of those unfortunates wounded and left behind in the muck as their comrades retreated. Kero whistled another signal, also passed up the line—Geyr sounded his bugle again, still in character as a frightened youngster. As soon as the mist broke and the enemy could see them clearly, she expected a charge, and she wanted the Skybolts ready to move just before it came.

The sun broke through the clouds, and the fog lifted in a rush, as if frightened away by the light. That was when the Skybolts saw the true size of the force facing them.

The sun blazed down on the field, as if to make up for the fact that it had hidden all morning. Kero hadn’t known what size of army to expect, and had planned for the worst, but hoped for the best. In that fleeting instant between when the enemy officers sighted them, and their trumpeters sounded a charge, Kero had time first to curse, then to be very thankful that the only troops here were hers. The veteran Skybolts would fake a panic and turn tail, just as the plan dictated. If Selenay’s green forces had been faced with this sight, the panicked flight might well have been real. She couldn’t imagine unseasoned fighters being able to hold against something like this.

There seemed no end to them; they filled the valley, and spilled out over the hills beyond. She couldn’t imagine where Ancar had gotten so many men—and they were all men, all that she could see, anyway. That in itself was ominous; why not have female fighters, archers at least?