And you took a spectacular vow of vengeance at Chuck’s passing ceremony, Rudi thought. Will it cloud your judgment?

He didn’t think so, and he wasn’t sure whether that was the long knowledge of growing up in the same Dun as this man, or something the Sword of the Lady gave him. He’d always been fair to excellent at reading folk, but with the Sword at his side no man could lie to him, even if the words deceived the speaker himself. He found himself fighting to keep that from souring his view of humankind, sometimes.

“We had a lot of trouble with them in the battle at Wendell,” Fred observed. “And that’s how they beat Deseret—more cavalry and moving faster. You can fight them with infantry but you need some horse-archers yourself, and a shitload of field artillery really helps, since it outranges their bows. Then if they thin out their formations to cut down their casualties they drop the intensity of their firepower a lot.”

“We needed the cavalry and catapults badly to hold them off so that we could break contact,” Oak agreed. “We’d have been surrounded and whittled down to nothing, else, instead of just hurt.”

“Just so, and Lugh of the Many Skills knows the Boise infantry are a bad lot in a fight too. Very disciplined, very well drilled in their maneuvers and it’s an annoyingly persistent set of omadhauns they are to boot.”

Fred grinned. “Yup. If they try charging us, well, we’ll give them as much trouble as they want.”

“Exactly. It’s uncomfortably good at combined-arms work Boise’s army is, and they have no religious scruples about making catapults of their own, unlike the CUT. I’m doing what I can about that stubbornness, breaking their heads from the inside, you might say, and Fred’s been a help. But in the meantime I think you’re going to need a reaction squad of head-bashers in the more usual sense of the word, more than Fred’s band can provide, and I’ve just the men for the core of that.”

Bjarni was mopping up beans with a chunk of the bread. He nodded, still chewing, drank from the mug of watered wine beside him, and spoke: “That we can do. We’re not wizards with the bow like you Mackenzies, but handstrokes are our sport and our delight. And my five hundred are picked men, the best fighters of all the tribes of Norrheim. Well used to fighting side by side by now too.”

Rudi slapped him on the shoulder. “That they are, Oak. For planting their feet in the dirt and locking shields to conquer or die where they stand, I’ve seen that there’s none like the warriors of Norrheim. Pitiless fighters, fell and grim. Also they’re the truest of men to their oaths, and fear does not enter into their actions.”