‘So what’s the plan?’ asked the Dogman.

Jalenhorm swept his arm towards his waiting division. ‘The Eighth and Thirteenth Foot and the Stariksa Regiment will lead off.’ He makes it sound like a wedding dance. I suspect the casualties will be higher. ‘The Twelfth and the Aduan Volunteers will form our second wave.’ Waves break on a beach, and melt away into the sand, and are forgotten. ‘The remnants of the Rostod Regiment and the Sixth will follow in reserve.’ Remnants, remnants. We all will be remnants, in due course.

The Dogman puffed his cheeks out as he looked at the massed ranks. ‘Well, you’ve no shortage of bodies, anyway.’ Oh no, and no shortage of mud to bury them in either.

‘First we cross the shallows.’ Jalenhorm pointed towards the twisting channels and sandbars with his sword. ‘I expect they will have skirmishers hidden about the far bank.’

‘No doubt,’ said the Dogman.

The sword drifted up towards the rows of fruit trees, just becoming visible on the sloping ground between the glimmering water and the base of the hill. ‘We expect some resistance as we pass through the orchards.’ More than some, I imagine.

‘We might be able to flush ’em out of the trees.’

‘But you have no more than a few score men over here.’

The Dogman winked. ‘There’s more to war than numbers. Few o’ my boys are already across the river, lying low. Once you’re over, just give us a chance. If we’re able to shift ’em, fine, if not, you’ve lost nothing.’

‘Very well,’ said Jalenhorm. ‘I am willing to take any course that might save lives.’ Ignoring the fact that the entire business is an exercise in slaughter. ‘Once the orchards are in our hands …’ His sword drifted implacably up the bare hillside, pointing out the smaller stones on the southern spur, then the larger ones on the summit, glowing faintly orange in the light of guttering fires. He shrugged, letting his sword drop. ‘We climb the hill.’

‘You climb that hill?’ asked the Dogman, eyebrows high.

‘Indeed.’

‘Fuck.’ Gorst could only silently concur. ‘They’ve been up there two days now. Black Dow’s all kinds of things but he’s no fool, he’ll be ready. Stakes planted, and ditches dug, and men at the drystone walls, and arrows showering down, and—’

‘Our purpose is not necessarily to drive them off,’ Jalenhorm interrupted, grimacing as though there were arrows showering on him already. ‘It is to fix them in place while General Mitterick on the left, and Colonel Brock on the right, force openings on the flanks.’

‘Aye,’ said the Dogman, somewhat uncertainly.

‘But we hope we may achieve much more than that.’

‘Aye, but, I mean …’ The Dogman took a deep breath as he frowned up towards the hill. ‘Fuck.’ I’m not sure I could have said it better. ‘You sure about this?’

‘My opinion does not enter into the case. The plan is Marshal Kroy’s, on the orders of the Closed Council and the wishes of the king. My responsibility is the timing.’