What if they don’t leave the wall? was the one that immediately occurred, but Tunny knew a great deal better than to make himself conspicuous in front of a crowd of officers.

‘Good.’ Vallimir smiled as though silence meant the plan must be perfect, rather than just that his men were too thick, eager or cautious to point out its shortcomings. ‘We’re missing half our men and all our horses, but that won’t stop his Majesty’s First, eh? If everyone does his duty today, there’s still time for all of us to be heroes.’

Tunny had to choke off his scornful laughter as the thick, eager, cautious officers broke up and began to drift into the trees to make their soldiers ready. ‘You hear that, Forest? We can all be heroes.’

‘I’ll settle for living out the day. Tunny, I want you to get up to the treeline and keep a watch on the wall. Need some experienced eyes up there.’

‘Oh, I’ve seen it all, Sergeant.’

‘And then some more, I don’t doubt. The very instant you see the Northmen start to clear out, you give the signal. And Tunny?’ He turned back. ‘You won’t be the only one watching, so don’t even think about pulling anything clever. I still remember what happened with that ambush outside Shricta. Or what didn’t happen.’

‘No evidence of wrongdoing, and I’m quoting the tribunal there.’

‘Quoting the tribunal, you’re a piece of work.’

‘First Sergeant Forest, I am crushed that a colleague would hold so low an opinion of my character.’

‘What character?’ called Forest after him as he threaded his way uphill through the trees. Yolk was crouched in the bushes pretty much where they’d been crouching all night, peering across the stream through Tunny’s eyeglass.

‘Where’s Worth?’ Yolk opened his mouth. ‘On second thought, I can guess. Any signs of movement?’ Yolk opened his mouth again. ‘Other than in Trooper Worth’s bowels, that is?’

‘None, Corporal Tunny.’

‘Hope you don’t mind if I check.’ He snatched the eyeglass without waiting for an answer and scanned along the line of the wall, uphill from the stream, towards the east, where it disappeared over a hump in the land. ‘Not that I doubt your expertise …’ There was no one in front of the drystone but he could see spears behind it, a whole lot of them, just starting to show against the dark sky.

‘No movement, right, Corporal?’

‘No, Yolk.’ Tunny lowered his eyeglass and gave his neck a scratch. ‘No movement.’

General Jalenhorm’s entire division, reinforced by two regiments from Mitterick’s, was drawn up in parade-ground order on the gentle slope of grass and shingle that led down to the shallows. They faced north. Towards the Heroes. Towards the enemy. So we got that much right, at least.

Gorst had never seen so many arrayed for battle in one place and at one time, dwindling into darkness and distance on either side. Above their massed ranks a thicket of spears and barbed pole-arms jutted, the pennants of companies fluttered, and in one spot nearby the gilded standard of the King’s Own Eighth Regiment snapped in the stiff breeze, proudly displaying several generations of battle honours. Lamps cast pools of light, picking out clutches of solemn faces, striking sparks from polished steel. Here and there mounted officers waited to hear orders and give them, swords shouldered. A ragged handful of the Dogman’s Northmen stood near the water’s edge, gawping up towards this military multitude.