Still, the veterans sneered until they saw their general. Jonar made a point of telling all who would listen that the goblins were the key to victory. Several of the veterans argued-a bad sign indeed-but all had come around after seeing the general's eyes. Each veteran smiled, as if a great secret had just been shared with them. Their general had a plan, and that was good enough for them. Once the veterans agreed, the younger orcs all jumped on the cause with great fervor, to prove that they were just as tough.

The next day Jonar rose early. He couldn't sleep; he could never sleep when a battle was coming. The night before, a messenger had brought news that the Kjeldoran force was only fifteen miles away, camped for the night. Through the night, the Flarg goblins were to have harassed the knights, ensuring that they were not well rested for the battle.

Almost as if by magic, two goblins rounded a tent and came toward Jonar. He started but composed himself quickly.

"I am truly impressed with your stealth, " the general greeted them.

They bowed slightly. The one on the right stepped forward. "The knights are coming this way, " he said. "They know you here. They ready for battle. Tramas says tell you we destroyed several supply wagons. Kill many in last night raid. Much death. Still, they ride. Will come here mid-day. "

Jonar nodded, more to himself than to the goblins, as he thought through his preparations.

"Good. You tell Tramas to be here, with your clan, ready to fight, as we agreed. Tell Tramas there is a bonus for good fighting, too. "

The forward goblin smiled a big toothy grin. "Me get food before go back?"

Jonar smiled and waved him on. "Yes, but hurry."

The two trotted away, much more interested in food than their message. Still, Jonar thought, the message would get through. Tramas seemed to have his troops whipped into shape.

At an hour before mid-day, Jonar summoned an all-officers conference at his tent. The officers from both orc clans, chieftains, sub-chieftains, battle standard bearers, and family champions all stood in a loose semi-circle around the general.

"Today we fight the dreaded White Knights of Kjeldor. The last time we battled them, we did not fare well. We had the advantage in terrain then, so they couldn't mount, and they still came on. All of us bear the shame of that battle with us-I more than anyone."

Jonar paused to let his words sink in. A murmur went through the assembled officers.

"Today, however, will be different. Today, we fight to regain our honor and glory, and today we take the spoils of war from the damned knights!"

Jonar manipulated the mood of the gathering like a master. He could see the orcs' eyes go from flat gray to sparkling blue. He could smell their hunger for victory.

He reined them in. "We will gain no victory from brash actions, nor from foolish bravado. We will not win by rushing into waves of charging knights.

"I have a plan for this battle, and you must trust me, your general."

Heads nodded. They remembered the ill-fated battle and how it had gone.

"When I give an order today, you must follow it. Cut down any orc who disobeys. My orders must be carried out exactly and precisely. Any failure will mean our failure. Do as I order, and victory will be ours."

A loud cheer went up from the assembled officers, the two chieftains leading their orcs.

"Cheers for General Jonar!" one yelled.

Jonar cut him off.

"Not yet, my brethren. We have won nothing yet. Obey my orders, and fight like warriors. We will win this day!"

Another general cheer went up.

After the clans had eaten a light meal, they formed battle lines. Each clan stretched for a thousand yards, four ranks deep. The losses from Balesh Pass had cut the clans' numbers severely. The breeze rose from the lower ground ahead of them. Fur cloaks and tassels fluttered off every warrior's armor.

Each warrior bore his own personal weapon. All, however, carried spears and a shield, bearing the emblems of clans. The sun was bright in the clear blue sky, but there was little heat.

Between the two clan regiments stood Jonar. He had a small bodyguard of twenty orcs, the largest orcs in any clan. One carried the battle standard of Balduvia. It was a tattered old flag, and officially they were no longer allowed to carry it, but no one would stop them this day.

The orcs in charge of the baggage train packed up all that they could, prepared to move at a moment's notice. They were ready to run in case the enemy began to win the fight. If their army won, however, they would provide all the services necessary to an army-food, medical attention, ale-and lots of it. They trod a fine line. Too cautious and it would look as if they lacked confidence in their own army. Too cavalier and the enemy could ride them down in a minor breakthrough. The carts weighed in excess of two tons each and could only move at a slow walk, especially up a snowy mountain pass. The furs covering the stores looked inviting and warm, but they offered no shelter if the enemy broke through.

Jonar waited for the white horde to come over the low rise to their front and begin their descent into battle.

"No surprises, not today," he whispered to himself.

Nonetheless the arrival of Elkan startled him. The mage rode from the rear, down the mountain approach and through the lines of the baggage train. He dismounted and strode up to Jonar's command.

"What are you doing here? You are supposed to be ready to aid us up in the mountain pass some ten miles from here." Jonar's face flushed with anger.

"I am your commander, and you will address me with the respect I am due," Elkan stated with a haughty air. "I am here because this is my army and my battle. I do not think you understand the whole reason for this excursion."

The mage continued, "I have prepared some very unpleasant surprises for anyone who breaks through to the pass, whether Kjeldoran knight or running orc. I felt I would be of better use here."

Jonar, disgusted, turned back to watch for the enemy to the front.

The Kjeldoran knights came over the low ridge and trotted to a halt. Jonar felt a sinking feeling in his gut. Two regiments of heavily armored soldiers stretched across the horizon. Each mount wore the livery of its knight, each knight bore the mark of Kjeldor on his shield, and from each lance a small banner or favor fluttered in the wind.

The blue-and-white checkerboard pattern on the shields and banners was striking in the midday sun. Plate armor shone with an unearthly glow as the sunlight glinted off every facet.

Jonar looked nervously across his line, far shorter than the cavalry line, but much more densely packed. His soldiers stood four deep, while the cavalry were one or two rows deep. The numbers looked roughly equivalent which still gave the knights a huge advantage.

A faint whisper grew among the ranks of the orcs as they absorbed the sight before them. Soldiers readjusted equipment out of nervousness. Eyes shifted around, looking for support in their fear.

The knights waited until their command group joined the two regiments. The commander, a mage in white robes, sat next to an armored officer who was mounted on a fantastic black charger. The giant standard of Kjeldor fluttered in the wind from the standard bearer directly to the officer's rear. The command group trotted out ahead of the knights, turned, and the mage addressed the white army.

Elkan snickered beside Jonar and began to cast a spell. A second later, lightning flew from his fingers and arced across the field to the enemy command group. Two of the bodyguard knights were thrown from their mounts, and two more were shaken, but the standard fluttered high and the rest were untouched.