Just like that, five hundred horsemen had put to flight five or six times their number. But the Hamveltai infantry were thick on the ground, and a canny commander might still have saved the situation. Before anyone could try, however, a wave of blue appeared at the crest of the hill, Vordanai infantry filing out into line and marching down to join their mounted countrymen. The artillery paused to let them pass, then thundered over their heads at the Hamveltai battalions that had managed to form square, wreaking havoc on such tight-packed targets.

It was too much. First one battalion began to crumble, then another, and then the entire Hamveltai flank fell to pieces before Winter’s astonished eyes. Ten thousand men, as finely trained and equipped as any army in the world, were converted in a moment into a fleeing, helpless mob. They overran their own guns and the few officers who tried to stop them, sitting helplessly on their horses amid the human flood. They didn’t try for long, as the Vordanai infantry broke into a charge, firing wildly into the mass of panicked enemy. Hundreds of yellowjackets, unable to get clear, were throwing down their weapons and waving frantically in surrender.

For a long moment, there was dead silence on the wooded ridge, among the piled dead.

“Sir?” Bobby said, stunned. “What just happened?”

“We won the battle,” Winter said.

There was still firing at the far end of the line, men fighting and dying for a cause they didn’t yet know was lost. Heavy columns of Vordanai infantry were marching down from the hills in that direction, in case they needed convincing.

Two women standing beside Winter let out a hesitant cheer, which was quickly joined a half dozen more. Moments later the whole forest was ringing with triumphant shouts, and bayonetted muskets waved in the air. Winter snatched off her cap and joined in, though in truth she was still too numb to feel much elation. In any case, once the celebration was done, there was still the grisly work of clearing out the corpses to attend to.

Interlude

THE DIRECTORY FOR THE NATIONAL DEFENSE

The triumphs of the past few days had done much to insulate Maurisk against shock, or else he was still feeling the effects of the treasures he’d looted from the liquor cabinets of Durenne and his allies. Either way, when he turned back to his desk to find Ionkovo standing in the corner of the room, he gave little more than a startled grunt. Maybe I’m just getting used to him.

“It appears,” the Penitent Damned said, with his customary lack of preamble, “that congratulations are in order.”

“I’m not sure I’d go as far as congratulations,” Maurisk said. “But things do seem to be in hand, for the moment.”