The kwajiin leader had split his force into three, each corresponding to the three wings in our force. He allowed gaps between his wings, but filled those with his beasts. The xonarchii hauled stones forward and tossed them out into the marsh. We laughed at first, then realized the creatures could wade out to them and throw them again.

I didn’t see any of the woolspiders or wall-climbers, but their use in such an open field was questionable. I likewise saw none of the flying, poison-spitting toads that had been used with some success during the siege of Kelewan. Nor did I see any of the vhangxi, and that was just as well. Those toad-men had a mouthful of teeth that would make a shark flee.

Pyrust’s strategy was simple enough: make the kwajiin pay for every inch of ground with blood. Forcing them to march over muddy ground and attack uphill would be costly. If Pyrust could bring his cavalry into play, to encircle the enemy and flank him on the right, the whole formation might collapse. That seemed like the most viable strategy, and I would have expected it to work save for one small detail.

Ranai Ameryne saw it and pointed. “This is not how the kwajiin arrayed themselves at Kelewan or when they killed the Iron Bears.”

“They’ve shifted strategy. Concentrated like that, they are more likely to punch through our infantry. We have a looser formation so we can use swords.”

“And that tight formation will make it tougher for horses to charge.” She nodded at the marsh. “That will be a lake of blood before noon.”

Below us, Pyrust emerged from his tent. He raised his right hand and snapped a white fan open. Down within the troop formations, drums began to pound. Archers ran forward through the infantry position, nocked arrows, and let fly. Though none of them had the skill of Penxir Aerant, the arrows arced into the enemy formation. The rear ranks raised their shields, forming a roof. Arrows hit, quivering in the shields. In a couple of places men fell, but the ranks closed quickly enough.

On the other side, the kwajiin general exited his tent and climbed up onto the back of one of the long-necked draft beasts. Its back was broad enough to have held the man’s command tent, but he stood there alone on a small platform. The driver moved the creature forward. Even as far away as we were, we could easily hear the sucking sound of its feet being pulled from the mud.

As his beast came forward, the kwajiin executed a complex maneuver. Both wings contracted, closing the gaps. The wings then faced the rear and marched back in unison. Their formation went from a curved line, to a three-sided box open at the far side, gathering the larger creatures in the center. Once they’d gotten into position, they faced outward again, setting their spears and shields.

For Pyrust’s militia to attack, they’d have to move forward into the swamp. Vroan’s troops had an easier approach over more solid ground, but they’d still have to ford the swollen stream.

Once the kwajiin had reordered their position, they marched at us. I marveled at their precision. Spearpoints did not waver. The flanking units kept pace even though they were marching laterally. Plunging into the edges of the marsh did slow them; they came on as a unit with the xonarchii and draft beasts in their midst.

Pyrust exchanged his white fan for a red one. The drum cadence changed. Our arrows filled the air. Kwajiin fell, and their blood ran into the swamp-though not nearly enough for my taste. Within our lines, the cavalry began to maneuver, with three regiments pulling out of the center and starting around the right flank.

The cavalry would sweep around and get behind the kwajiin force. They would strike from behind, forcing them to flee into the swamp or onto our swords. Given our superior numbers and position, it was a flawless piece of strategy. Had I been in Pyrust’s place, I might well have given the same orders.

As the cavalry thundered around in their flanking maneuver, Vroan pushed his wing forward. They moved out of pace with the other Naleni troops, who were still awaiting an order to advance. This created a gap. Pyrust flashed a signal with a fan and half his militia reserve trotted over to reinforce the breach.

On the left, his other militia unit heard the drums and mirrored Vroan’s advance. They came on a bit more raggedly, but not disastrously so. But Pyrust saw their error, and signaled to them to halt. Their leaders shouted orders and the troops straightened out their lines.

Archers shot again, this time aiming. The kwajiin front rank went down as if scythed grass. Their spears fell, but the next rank replaced them. The kwajiin kept coming, spears thrusting, and finally hit our front line.

The xonarchii hurled stones, which struck with incredible force. One moment a man would be standing in place, and in the next his legs would be thrashing from beneath a blood-washed rock. Others would reel away, spattered with blood, arms broken, ribs crushed. Had the ground been dry, the stones would have careened further, but this was horrible enough.

The cavalry gathered on the other side of the stream, lowered spears, and prepared to charge. The creature ferrying the kwajiin general let out a bellow. At first, I thought it might have signaled panic because of the immediate kwajiin reaction. Chaos reigned for a moment, then the enemy executed a maneuver of such precision and elegance that I never would have thought possible on parade, much less in the midst of battle.

With troops like these, the world might well be yours, Nelesquin.

The back three ranks of each wing sprinted south to the formation’s rear, effectively closing the box. They set themselves immediately, spears outward. Even before the cavalry began its charge, it faced a square formation that provided no opening for attack.

Pyrust signaled again and the drums boomed. His Hawks pressed forward and the Naleni wing came around. Vroan’s people rushed forward, so our formation wrapped the kwajiin square’s north and west sides. The press of soldiers stopped the enemy advance. Spears did kill some of our men, but we got into their lines and began hewing through shields.

The weight of our forces proved too great. Because it had sacrificed a third of its depth to reinforce the rear, the kwajiin west wing started to buckle. The cavalry waited for that wing to break or for the kwajiin to reinforce from the east wing. In anticipation, Pyrust waved his fan and the militia on the left flank surged forward.

That’s when the kwajiin plan revealed itself. The swamp boiled with activity. Heads and shoulders emerged from the watery depths, rising like bubbles. Hundreds of vhangxi — thousands-waded from the shallow water and attacked.

I wanted to believe the vhangxi had been waiting in the depths of the marsh the whole time and we had somehow missed them. I needed to believe that we could have prevented the disaster that resulted. I wanted to believe there was a chance, however slender, that we could have been victorious that day. But with each passing moment, the terrible reality of the battle set in.

I think Ranai’s words had been prophetic. I imagine the vhangxi had been sown in the water as eggs or tadpoles. They remained there until blood tainted the water. They grew quickly-with a speed somehow augmented by Nelesquin’s sorceries-and it was this newly spawned horde that emerged to feast on the militiamen.

The vhangxi erupted in the midst of our militia. They burst up out of the water, taking off legs and arms. They slashed with claws, raking off faces, then appropriated weapons from the fallen. They never paused in the attack that crushed our left flank.

Only idiots and tavern-bench generals would fault the militia for breaking. They were merely conscripts who had marched nearly four hundred and fifty miles in under a month’s time. They’d had no real training. Their rations were barely enough to keep them alive. Some in the rearmost ranks did not even have weapons, and the vhangxi were far better at scavenging than they were.