"Wait, wait, now! Eagles in the air! Regroup behind banners!"

Out of the forest came groups of soldiers, sometimes alone men.

That's not possible! Where did they get enough battlemages to hurt us that bad? Trindai gasped at the condition the emerging soldiers were in. This wasn't a staggered retreat. Those men had been soundly routed, and only the massed lines of a friendly army could hope to return a sense of safety to the broken men. That and the banners of the Imperial Guard raised in the air.

"Sound the horns. We take our chances," he ordered.

The colonel next to him threw an unhappy glance but relayed the order anyway.

Trindai had to hope the enemy in pursuit would mistake the horns for a futile attempt by the routed enemy to rally on the other side of the forest. The way the fleeing men looked it could as well be one, he accepted darkly.

"This had better work," he growled at the outworlder by his side.

"You just get the bastards this way and I'll handle the killing," was the chilling response.

Revenge, what a bad reason for going to war. We sold them the revenge, so we're no better. Trindai didn't respond. The outworlder was a civilian. Some kind of mining expert who had lost his family to the outworlder attack on Verd, and now he took out his frustration and hatred on an enemy he had never seen.

Finding not one but several men and women from the newly arrived sky kingdom had come as a surprise, but they were as mercantile as Keen herself. Knowledge was money, and so they had taught themselves De Vhatic in preparation for coming here. Not everyone, of course, but enough knew the language that it was impossible to herd them the way they had contained the outworlder traders the last ten years.

Sounds of horns brought Trindai out of his thoughts and he turned his attention to the forest. If the men came as scattered as they did he was likely to have to order the killing of their own. Well, he had done so at Verd, and he would do so again to finish the war here and now. They had waited here for the better part of a day, waited and prepared for a battle the enemy hadn't known would take place.

Outworlder talk machines gave an advantage that was almost impossible to value. Farwriters didn't even come close.

He heard yells of fear and a few of surprised joy. Some of the fleeing men must have noticed they had friends waiting for them on this side of the trees.

The disorganized horde of men quickly melded into units as they dashed for the promised safety, and after them cavalry arrived from among the trees.

One young officer came running straight at Trindai.

"Demons, they're demons!" he screamed.

Trindai looked at the youth. Too young by several years. Money should never buy commissions. "At attention!"

"General!" came the reply, and with it a visible straightening of his back.

"Get your men here and stand!"

"But, but they're demons. They used magic against our staff masters!"

Trindai gulped down his shock. He couldn't afford to show his men his true feelings at this moment. "I don't have staff masters." A lie. "I have the Imperial Guard." A truth. "We stand."

And they did. It helped that the panicked flight turned into an organized retreat. It gave the Imperial Guard time for two full volleys, but the young officer had been right. The enemy horsemen glowed as they sang their way through combat. Inquisition squads throwing themselves into the thick of combat made no difference. They went down just like any other soldiers, and the staff masters failed to remove whatever magic shielded the enemy from quarrels and sabres alike.

Trindai understood why the planned retreat through the forest had become a rout. He turned. "Outworlder, use your devices now or the day is lost." And turned back again so as not to have to meet the eyes of the man he had ordered to butcher soldiers indiscriminately.

"As you will."

Nothing happened. "What are you waiting for?"

"Which, sir?"

Trindai sighed and stared at the madness ahead of him. "All of them. All," he whispered.

"I didn't..."

"All of them!"

The sound threw the horses into a panic. One moment the narrow field between Trindai's reserves and the forest was a moving mass of fighting bodies. The next there was only dust and earth and a whiteness rolling over them like a hammer. Then silence, and from that silence the sound of moaning emerged.

The outworlder-made fog slowly dissipated and he saw shadows of men staggering around, most of them trying to come to their feet but far, far too many only shaking or rolling on the ground. Whatever had shielded the enemy didn't protect their horses, and Trindai watched as a few of them fled the field. Several of the beasts rolled impotently on the field just like the fallen men they crushed as they flailed about.

"Dagd regiment. On foot, daggers and sabres. Finish this!" He turned away from the slaughter. Dagd fielded as professional a regiment as any from Verd. They would make certain the men they murdered were clad in leathers only. The De Vhatic soldiers would be carried to the waiting medics. More would survive than he deserved.

A few hovercrafts carried outworlder medics with outworlder equipment, and he needed as many of the enemy dead as possible before he allowed their sky kingdom allies onto the field. They had been adamant on treating all wounded on equal terms, but there were simply not enough of the miracle doctors even for Keen's wounded.

Trindai shook his head. This was why he commanded the army. He knew that, but it didn't make him less disgusted.

"I want Roadbreak and Hasselden through that forest now! De Markand needs us." He waved his staff to his side. "De Tenerius, you're in command here. I'll lead the reinforcements. Rephrase!"

"I handle the mopping up here. You can be found due east of the forest with Roadbreak and Hasselden regiments in case we need to get your sorry ass out of there."

Trindai grinned. General de Tenerius sometimes took the rephrasing too far, but he never misjudged a command. If there were more of the shining cavalry on the other side the enemy could still win the day. At least their horses weren't invincible, and if they stopped singing they went down like normal men.

They marched through the narrow forest. There was no reason riding through it. Between the trees men and weapons lay littering the ground. Daggers, broken spears or dropped quarrels worked just as well as caltrops, and they had to tread carefully.

Trindai could see where the retreat had turned into a rout. Then they were through the trees and he ordered his men mounted again.

To his north he saw the enemy staff, and he ordered his few surviving staff masters to screen their approach. The high ranking enemy officers wasn't his problem. Walking Talking had promised a last surprise. Trindai concentrated on his part of the dirty work.

"De Markand is still holding out. We bring the anvil to the hammer. Line up and report when you're ready to charge!"