Beside him, with Selenay’s silver-and-blue battle banner streaming above her, Myste sat stock-still, the mask of her lenses making it impossible to tell what she was thinking, but her skin was nearly as white as her Companion’s hide. Myste had volunteered to take Selenay’s banner, and Alberich had agreed, given that it was unlikely Selenay’s party would see real combat—and if they did, it was because they were fighting their way to retreat.

Talamir had the King’s battle banner, much larger than Selenay’s; both were affixed in a socket behind the saddle and didn’t need a free hand the way Karsite banners did.

It was easy to tell which were the real Tedrels and which the mere recruits. Behind those shock troops, whose mounted officers had to constantly ride their lines to keep them in their places, the real Tedrels had formed up, rank on rank of them, unmoving and unmoved, silent, waiting. Their armor glittered in the morning sun, each man a minute scale upon the body of some massive beast, poised to claw and rend its way to Valdemar’s heart. So far away as to be just barely visible to the naked eye, fluttering above the heads of the enemy at the top of the next ridge, were the purple battle banners of the Tedrel commanders.

Alberich hoped that the King and Lord Marshal were proud of their fighters, who stood rock-steady in the face of so numerous a foe. Two or three moons ago, many of these young people had been following plows, sweating at a forge, or tending beasts—or hauling nets, tending shops, working at a craft. Now they stared at the enemy, knew they were about to fight for their lives against battle-tested and hardened mercenaries, and did not flinch.

There was no sign of Sunpriests. Alberich strained his eyes in every direction to be sure, but they simply weren’t there, and his heart, which had sunk down into the soles of his feet, rose as far as his ankles. Thank you, Lord Vkandis, giver of life, awful in majesty…

“Sire?” the Lord Marshal said quietly, at Sendar’s right. “Your orders?”

“This side of the valley is Valdemar; that side is Karse,” said Sendar in a low but clear voice. “We will not provoke this fight. Though they have attacked us every summer for the past three years, we will not provoke them, and we will not cross the Karsite Border. If they insist on having this confrontation, they must break the peace and the Border, for we will not.”

Sendar sounded completely calm, quite composed, as if he did not care whether the Tedrels came or not. Alberich glanced at Selenay’s Six; all were mounted, surrounding her, the Guards on ordinary horses rather than Companions.