It was a colossal undertaking, and planned with great precision. Should an enemy attack the advance guard they would fall back towards the previous night's fortress. If an enemy force struck at the centre of the line, as the army moved from fortress to fortress, the Panthers would fold back and encircle them. If the rear of the line came under threat they would withdraw, in order, to the new fortress. Banouin gazed down, watching the soldiers digging. If Connavar's cavalry looked like a serpent, then from here the soldiers of Stone were termites, working tirelessly in the earth.

There was, of course, a serpent. The lines of Jasaray's marching army extended back over the full twelve miles to the previous night's camp. The last of the wagons, and the three Panthers guarding them, were yet to leave. Banouin floated closer to the marching men, flowing along the lines until he saw Jasaray. The emperor was riding a grey horse, and he was chatting to a group of officers. Sadness touched Banouin's spirit, for riding just behind Jasaray was Maro, the son of Barus, his friend from the university.

Banouin withdrew once again to a great height. Better not to see faces, he thought. Better not to think of the thousands of individuals on both sides who were moving inexorably towards pain, mutilation or death.

The young druid estimated the size of Jasaray's force, then flew back to his body. He opened his eyes. Brother Solstice was sitting quietly nearby, dozing, his back against a tree. He awoke as Banouin sat up. 'How far?' asked the older man, yawning and stretching.

'Just over twenty miles. There are twelve Panthers, but few mounted scouts.'

'Twelve? That's not good,' said Brother Solstice.

Banouin rose and walked to his horse. During the past thirty years Stone armies had defeated enemies boasting ten times their number. Their victories had been won by awesome organization, discipline, and the fact that the soldiers of Stone were not militia, drafted into battle from their farms to fight, but professional soldiers who trained daily, obeying orders instantly without question. Their close-order skills were legendary, and previous Keltoi armies had been crushed by them with ease. Jasaray himself had destroyed the Perdii across the water using only five Panthers, fifteen thousand men. And the Perdii army had mustered more than a hundred thousand warriors.

Connavar would take the field with around half that number – facing thirty-six thousand battle-hardened Stone veterans led by the greatest general of them all. Banouin shivered at the prospect.

Heeling his horse forward he rode from the wood to make his report to Connavar.

Chapter Fourteen