‘Ard Feainn, there’s no doubt.’ Julia Abatemarco licked her lips. ‘I can also see Elan Trahe’s Daerlanians, there are also elves from the Vrihedd Brigade, our old friends from Maribor and Mayena… Aha! There are also the Death’s Heads, the famous Nauzicaa Brigade. I can also see the flames on the pennants of the Deithwen armoured division. And a white standard with a black alerion, the sign of the Alba Division…’

‘You recognise them,’ murmured the reconnaissance commander, ‘as though they were friends… Are you so well-informed?’

‘I’m a graduate of the military academy,’ Pretty Kitty cut him off. ‘I’m a qualified officer. Good, I’ve seen what I wanted to see. Let’s return to the company.’

‘The 4th and 3rd Horse are making for us,’ said Julia Abatemarco. ‘I repeat, the whole of the 4th Horse and probably the whole of the cavalry of the 3rd Army. A cloud of dust was rising into the sky behind the standards that I saw. By my reckoning, forty thousand horse are heading this way in those three columns. And maybe more. Perhaps—’

‘Perhaps Coehoorn has divided up the Centre Army Group,’ finished Adam ‘Adieu’ Pangratt, leader of the Free Company. ‘He only took the 4th Horse and the cavalry from the 3rd, without infantry, in order to move quicker… Ha, Julia, were I in the place of Constable Natalis or King Foltest—’

‘I know,’ Pretty Kitty’s eyes flashed. ‘I know what you’d do. Have you sent runners to them?’

‘Naturally.’

‘Natalis is nobody’s fool. Perhaps, tomorrow—’

‘Perhaps.’ Adieu didn’t let her finish. ‘And I even think that will happen. Spur your horse, Julia. I want to show you something.’

They rode a few furlongs, quickly, pulling a long way ahead of the rest of the soldiers. The sun was almost touching the hills in the west, the wetland forests cloaked the valley in a long shadow. But enough could be seen for Pretty Kitty to guess at once what Adieu Pangratt had meant to show her.

‘Here,’ Adieu confirmed her speculation, standing up in the stirrups. ‘I would engage the enemy here tomorrow. If the command of the army were mine.’

‘Nice terrain,’ agreed Julia Abatemarco. ‘Level, hard, smooth… There’s room to form up… Hmmm… From those hills to those fishponds there… It’ll be some three miles… That hill, there, is a perfect command position…’

‘You’re right. And there, look, in the centre, there’s one more small lake or fishpond. It’s sparkling over there. It can be taken advantage of… That little river is suitable for a border, because although it’s small, it’s marshy… What’s that river called, Julia? We rode that way yesterday, didn’t we? Do you remember?’

‘I’ve forgotten. I think it’s the Halter. Or something like that.’