Chapter Thirteen
Commander Havelock ordered the men to go at a canter once they were sure the enemy had been engaged by General Haddock. Scouts had been sent forward. The enemy had split and was attempting to make the passes by several different routes at once. Haddock had placed his cannon well and they overlooked the main route over the mountains. He had sent detachments of infantry to guard other smaller routes. They waited in ambush, springing their traps as the enemy tried to make their escape. Asia and her clans had set ambushes well when the army of Vurun had attempted to escape by the Settru Pass. Now it was Aisa’s turn to find herself trapped. As they approached the split in the road that led up to the pass, Rosie stopped and began to stamp her feet and refused to go forward.
“Easy, girl,” Dryden said to her. He eased her over to the side of the path where he could be out of the way and dismounted. The regiment continued to move along past him. He went around to the front of her and stroked her muzzle, “What is it?” He asked. She snorted and shook her head and was calm.
“Something the matter, sir?” Lieutenant Lamb asked as he rode by.
“No, I don’t think so, Mr Lamb. My horse, Rosie, she didn’t want to continue onwards.” He replied.
“Shall I send up a replacement for you, sir?”
“No, never. Rosie is as sturdy as they come. I’d have no other horse in this rugged country.”
It was then that shots rang out. Several men dropped. The line of horses pulled up in chaos and progress ground to a halt. Lieutenant Lamb gave a start and put a hand to his shoulder, “Sir, I think I’m hit.”
Dryden saw a handful of snipers up above on a hillside. He also saw the snaking line of goat paths and switchbacked up the hill. He also saw that the men up there had their horses. They were reloading their jezzails. Men were starting to drop off their horses to take cover. Havelock was not to be seen. Dryden hopped back up on Rosie and began shouting orders, “Stay on your horses damn you! Forward! Forward!” The men began to move again. He looked and found Captain Adams, the young blonde officer in charge of 1st squadron. “You, get someone to take care of Lieutenant Lamb. He has been hit.” Then he turned again looking for a sergeant. He found a sergeant he knew was named Drake, “You there, Sergeant Drake, get a detachment, two men, see those damned snipers off that ridge.”
“How, sir?” He looked perplexed.
“The goat paths,” Dryden pointed, “Use your damned eyes, man. Clear that bloody ridge! On the double!” He shouted at the sergeant.
“Sir!” He saluted crisply and went. To the sergeant’s credit, he did not delay. He found two dozen men and they went off to ride up the ridge.
Dryden kicked his horse and rode up the line towards the front. On his way, he passed Khathan who was practically whipping men with his riding crop to get them moving forward.
“Trouble, Captain?” Dryden asked.
“The men do not ride with the urgency we require,” Khathan replied.
“Have your sergeants do this work. This is not for captains and lieutenants. Where is Sergeant McFinley?”
“Wounded, sir, in the first volley. Their snipers are good at targeting those with rank. Sergeant Steele is at the front of the squadron with Lieutenant Winthrop. Sergeant Major Quint is bringing up the rear of the squadron. We’re stretched thin along this line, Major Dryden.”
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“Very well, I’m heading to the front of the column. As you were.” Dryden growled as he spurred Rosie again and pushed past the column of the 13th that snaked along the bottom of the deep ravine.
Dryden’s bay mare no longer resisted him as she had earlier. She moved quickly through the valley. He supposed, that if she had not stopped and he had not been forced to dismount, he might have been shot instead of Lieutenant Lamb. He did not know if she had truly predicted the sniper’s shot, but it had perhaps saved his life. Then he arrived at the head of the column where Lieutenant Winthrop was hesitantly going forward on foot, leading his horses. No one else had dismounted.
“What the devil is this?” Dryden demanded, “Why are we not advancing up the valley? Why are you on foot, man?”
“The snipers, sir!”
“You are worried about dying, lad?”
“Sir, they are shooting at us!” The young man protested, ignoring the question he was asked.
“Get on your mount and advance up the valley.”
“Sir…” The man pleaded.
“I order you to do it.”
The lieutenant did not answer Dryden. He did not obey the order.
“Out of the way, then, boy. You are relieved of command.” Then he stood in his stirrups and faced the column with the colours of the regiment above him, “Men of the 13th! With me!” He bellowed the command. The raven banner flapped in the wind beside the king’s dragon banner. He kicked his horse and the whole regiment went with him.
As they came around a bend the ravine widened into a long slope, up which the narrow trail switchbacked towards a gap in the mountains, and the whole battle came into view. Haddock had his cannon positioned above the way up the mountain, it was well positioned and hard to see, with emplacements disguised as rocks. He had hidden it well. The army was dug in and firing down upon the enemy who was trapped by the most vicious overlapping fields of fire that Dryden had yet seen in his career. The scene was utter carnage.
Hundreds of enemy light cavalry were down. Horses and men were torn asunder by the cannons that fired down into the pinned Vuruni soldiers. There was nowhere to go for them now that the 13th had arrived. Dryden wondered if the snipers had not, in fact, been men fleeing from the fight rather than a true ambush. Aisa’s army was decimated already. There was no fight to be had. The battle was done. He could see some small groups of enemy cavalry attempting to make towards the winding and narrow ravines that cut through the hills of the lower Korum Mountains. Saltpetre, blood, and shit, the smell of battle was strong on the wind. Rosie picked her way through the mangled corpses of those whom Haddock’s artillery had ripped apart.
Dryden halted the column and looked around in awe and terror at the sight of the devastation. Sergeant Steele, who had been riding next to Dryden pointed up to the switchbacks, “Sir, someone is riding down.”
Dryden saw it was true. A small party of men on horse were riding down, picking their way through the dead. The sergeant handed him a spyglass and he looked through it. They were at a distance where he could not see their faces, but he could see General Haddock’s personal standard, and below the flag, he could see a form riding that he thought was likely the General.
“Inform Commander Havelock and Captain Khathan, we will be receiving the General shortly, if you please Mr Steele.”
“Sir!” The sergeant saluted and went riding back along the column quickly to find the officers.
They arrived shortly before the General did. General Haddock and the officers of the 13th met between the two forces.
The General rode up with a great grin on his face, “Most well done, sirs, most well done indeed. What fine hounds you make!”
“My compliments to you as well, General,” Havelock replied.
“Indeed. We gave them a good thrashing, eh? A few escaped, but no matter, we’ll run them down yet.”
“What of the witch, sir?” Dryden asked, his face grim.
“Back to business already, major?” The general laughed, “So like your father. You are correct to ask, of course. We have seen neither hide nor hair of Aisa An-Beya. Please, join me at my command tent at the top of the pass. We can all sleep. In the morning you can debrief me, and we can go over the particulars there.” Then the general turned and went back up the switchbacks he had just come down.
The 13th followed him through the killing grounds and went up the pass to where the general was camped. It was a hard ride up the pass. By the time they arrived at where the army was camped, Dryden was exhausted and the sun had fallen. Tents had already been prepared for the cavalry officers. He skipped supper, fell into his bed, and slept soundly, unplagued by dreams of the fallen.