KLIA and her force took the Plenimarans by surprise just before sunrise in a carefully coordinated attack, striking at one corner of the encampment. Beka and her troop successfully overwhelmed the pickets before they could raise the alarm, then Lieutenant Kallas and the Urghazi riders went after the enemy’s horses. Klia rode through the gap with Danos, Anri, and their troops, thundering into the camp as the first startled soldiers emerged from their tents.

Even taken by surprise, the Plenimarans were quick to mass against them, and it was a hard-fought battle that surged back and forth between the wood and the river. But as Klia had hoped, the Plenimaran line did begin to thin as they were pushed back.

Within a few hours the broad meadow was littered with the dead and dying, Skalan side by side with Plenimaran.

Bloody to the elbows and half blinded by sweat, Beka and her riders were fighting beside Klia when she heard Danos shout, “Commander, look there!”

Beka couldn’t see Danos, but she did spy a Plenimaran standard wavering above the melee no more than a hundred feet away. Summoning her flagging strength, throat already raw with shouting, Beka yelled, “Riders, to the commander! Blood and Steel!”

Fighting like the demons the Plenimarans had named them, they hacked their way through what felt like a wall of flesh and armor, scattering the enemy commander’s bodyguard and clearing the way for Klia.

Beka was in the lead when they broke through at last and there was the Plenimaran officer, wearing the insignia of a cavalry commander.

Klia must have been as exhausted as any of them, but she gave no quarter as she shouted “For Skala and the queen!” and lunged past Beka to attack the commander with Beka and Captain Danos at her back. The others had their hands full holding off the Plenimaran soldiers.

Suddenly a cry went up from the enemy. Beka dispatched the man she’d been fighting with a blow to the neck, then looked over her shoulder quickly to see the Plenimaran commander on the ground, with Klia’s blade at his throat.

“Bretza!” Klia shouted, loud enough to carry around to the men still fighting. It was the Plenimaran command to yield.

The fallen officer glared up at her for a moment, then dropped his hands to his sides, relinquishing his sword. The day was theirs.

It took well over an hour for word to spread around the field that the Plenimarans had lost. Meanwhile, Klia had the captured officer and his bodyguard disarmed and escorted to the edge of the river, where Beka and several of her riders stood guard over them.

The sun had passed noon when the fighting finally stopped and the last of the enemy were disarmed. Klia had the Plenimaran provision wagons emptied, then gave them to the vanquished commander so he could gather and transport his dead. The wagons were nearly empty to begin with, just a few barrels of salt fish and hard biscuit; the Plenimarans were as badly supplied as they were, if not worse.