Of all the hair brained, idiotic, cavalry schemes. There were sixty thousand of the Priest Queen's fanatics out there, maybe another fifteen thousand battle hardened mercenaries. Behind the walls, with the other mercenary companies and the locals, they could hold out, probably for months. Out in the field, even with the other companies it was liable to be a massacre. How was it that knight's never met a problem to which they didn't try to solve with a headlong charge. Worse yet the Captain seemed to be considering it. Black Ryann snorted.

"Even with the other companies, we can't hope to overcome them in the field," the sorcerer disparaged. Bianca didn't much like the man, few among the company did, but for once he was speaking truth.

"I concur," the Captain said, in a tone that didn't signify agreement. There was a murmer among the assembled officers, some in favor of Torm's plan others against. It was true that after months of march and countermarch, the men were eager for action.

"A spoiling attack.”

___________________

“Of all the shit for brains, moronic, knightly notions,” Sanchel spat. There was a murmur of agreement from the rest of the scouts. They were sitting around a cookfire built in the cleared out stable of an alehouse. It kept them close to the ale but kept them out of casual knife fights and earshot of the locals. The Palonans seemed like decent people, but war would make spies out of anyone if circumstances permitted.

“The Old Man is in a tight spot,” Bianca told the score of scouts. “If we just sit here, or if we take the First, our employers can claim that we didn’t fight.”

“Fight?! Shit First, we have been fighting these bastards since snow melt,” Kali groused, taking a bite from a stick of smoking meat she had just removed from the fire. The scouts were divided roughly fifty fifty on gender lines with almost double the percentage of women in the rest of the company.

“Yeah well, marching around don’t look much like fighting to a bunch of rich merchant princes in Altaraea,” Bianca explained.

“Well what the fuck would they know about it?” Kali bitched.

“Nothing. But they are the ones paying,” Bianca said tiredly.

“Girl!” Cadger’s gravelly voice boomed. Bianca stood up and moved out into the alley beyond. The dwarf was already in his battle harness, heavy chain hung with medallions of the dull metal that humans called eversteel. Bianca glanced at it reproachfully. The hard planes of Cadger’s face split into a grin.

“Someone has to come along to spike that gun, assuming your lordly friend gets that far,” he graveled.

“I get that uncle Cadger,” Bianca said in a measured tone, “I just assumed it was someone who could ride a horse.”

“I can ride a horse,” Cadger objected defensively. Bianca folded her arms.

“I can stitch a wound, that don’t make me a damn seamstress,” Bianca groused. Cadger winked at her, it was a human gesture he had learned, one that always looked comically exaggerated on a dwarf’s heavily muscled face.

“Not a debate lass. I came to tell you that the Ironshields have come in on the plan, so that will give us another heavy infantry element. Tough lads the Narguard, better odds of us all not getting killed,” Cadger said.

“What about the Horselords, I’d have thought they were more use than the footsloggers,” Bianca said. Cadger laughed.

“Aye, no doubt they would be, but they are taking the First, riding out right now the bastards,” Cadger sneered. Bianca grimaced, that was a blow, though not a surprising one. Cavalry weren’t much for jobs that might require they wind up eating their horses. They also could make good use of a days head start, especially when the enemy was investing to siege. They could probably just ride out and away west without bother. She suddenly straightened up.

“What is it lass?” Cadger asked.

“I’m a genius uncle Cadger!” Bianca grinned and clapped both hands on the dwarfs shoulders. Then she spun and started calling out names.

___________________

The Horselords rode out of the main gate under the striped flag of passage. The Ironshields and Silver Swords were both stood to. It was bad form, but it wasn’t unheard of for an army to try charging the gate while a company departed. Luckily the enemy wasn’t willing to chance it today.

It wasn’t a parade, the mercs were, kitted down for travel, their horses hung with bedrolls and panniers of food for the ride. Their swords were tied, ornamentally, with strips of white cloth to signal they weren’t combatants. Behind the armored men were wagons hauling the forges, medical supplies, and other gear needed to keep cavalry in the field. These might be lost if the enemy sent fast cavalry after them, but that wasn’t likely as any cavalry the Priest Queen’s forces had would be hard pressed to fight the Horselords in open country. It might have been a surprise to the Horselord’s officers to discover that behind the wagons rode a rearguard. Ten men and nine women on rangy horses, wearing the yellow cloaks of the Horselords. The fact that their weapons weren’t tied was easy to overlook in the dust and grit kicked up by the wagons. They rode straight through the besieging army, enduring the jeers of the attackers. It was only after the column crested the rise beyond the city that the rearguard peeled off and shed their cloaks. Bianca and her scouts were in position behind the enemy.