All through the regiment, Royals and volunteers screamed themselves horse or shouted curses, depending on which side they were on. Winter had actively encouraged gambling on these matches, to keep the spectators interested. There wasn’t much use for money out in the field, and the amount wagered had grown quickly. A small fortune had probably just changed hands, and the blues would be heroes to those who had taken their side. And the reverse, of course.

“Time to break camp,” Cyte said.

Winter nodded and waved for attention. When the roar had quieted somewhat, she shouted, “Players, go get yourselves cleaned off! Everybody else, break camp and be ready to march in one hour!” That would give the wagon train time to get well ahead of them. “Well played, everyone!”

Another roar of approval. The mud-covered handballers trooped off in the direction of the stream, and a dozen sergeants began shouting at once to get everyone else in order. The crowd gradually dispersed in the direction of the newly integrated camp, slowly sorting itself out into its component companies and sections.

“It seems to be working,” Cyte said once the volume level had fallen low enough for ordinary speech.

“For the moment,” Winter said. She caught sight of Captain Sevran, on the other side of the playing field. He gave her a rueful smile and shook his head, then saluted smartly and turned to follow his men. “We’ll see what happens when we go back to drill.”

“Still. They aren’t getting into brawls anymore.” Cyte cocked her head, reflecting for a moment. “Off the field, anyway.”

*   *   *

Another day’s march, another seven miles—hardly a stroll, by the standards of Khandarai campaign. The Deslandai army was pulling back toward the town of Gaafen, where a bridge spanned the river Kos. The Kos was tributary to the mighty Velt, running nearly east-west to where the Velt flowed roughly north-south past Desland on its east bank. North of the junction, there were several good fords the Army of the East could use to get across and invest the city, but south of it the big river widened into an uncrossable gulf nearly as wide as the Tsel in Khandar. Gaafen was therefore a good place for the Deslandai army to make a stand; if things went sour, they could always retreat north of the Kos and blow up the bridge, leaving Janus’ army a long detour to find an alternative crossing.