It was a few moments before the rest of them could see. The left-most regiment of Hamveltai had peeled off from the general forward advance and was headed toward the wooded ridge. As Winter had predicted, di Pfalen was not totally blind to the danger presented to his flank; as his main line advanced past the woods, he’d sent troops to guard against an attack from that direction.

“Bobby, go find Archer,” Winter said. “Tell him to hold his fire as long as they keep coming. It’s when they get too comfortable that we’ll need to sting them. Then find Abby and help her get the Girls’ Own ready.”

Bobby saluted and ran off. Winter stayed where she was, watching the approaching yellowjackets. Three columns probably meant three battalions, or something like three thousand men, opposing the bare thousand or so that remained in the Third Regiment after the hellish march. Janus’ original plan, that they charge from cover and catch the Hamveltai by surprise, might have worked if they’d been at full strength, but with the odds that far against them, it would have been a disaster. So even Janus isn’t omniscient. Winter wasn’t sure if that was comforting or terrifying.

The first question, whether the Hamveltai colonel intended to occupy the woods or merely to screen them, was soon answered. He halted his men in column at the bottom of the slope, facing up toward Winter but not yet deployed into a combat formation. He still doesn’t know we’re here. More than likely, the yellowjacket commander expected to be called into action somewhere in the front line now engaging Janus’ army, once the danger of a flank attack failed to materialize. Time to show him otherwise.

The cannon opened fire, right on cue. The closest gun was a dozen yards away, and the blast was enough to rattle Winter’s teeth in her skull. More fire came from all along the edge of the woods, where Archer had positioned his guns to take advantage of the cover and the high ground. The cannonballs followed long, arcing trajectories down toward the Hamveltai troops below, and even the first volley plowed into the tight-packed yellow ranks, knocking men down like toys. Winter gave an appreciative whistle. Archer knows his business.

For a few moments, confusion reigned down below. Winter could see men on horseback galloping back and forth, presumably the Hamveltai colonel and his officers. Orders went out, even as the shot continued to fall, and after no more than a few minutes the columns began to advance up the hill. With no guns of his own, the Hamveltai commander could either retire out of range or advance and silence the troublesome battery. As Winter had hoped, he’d chosen the latter course.