The assembled army fell silent. To the Mongauli soldiers, Amnelis was no less than a goddess of victory, come to life to walk among them, to lead them on to glory. A fair and noble beauty she was, and yet mighty as any battle-hardened knight, and she held them entranced. Every eye was focused on her.
“Brave warriors of Mongaul!”
Her voice was clear and sharp, seeming to soar over their heads, reaching to the far corners of the desert.
“You have been most patient. And I believe you have grown tired of waiting for the Sem. The wait is over! Soldiers, take up your swords! We shall no longer fear this land of Nospherus. What can be more fitting for the brave corps of Mongaul than a glorious attack? We will strike at the Sem tribes, kill the wildlings, and raise the flag of the Golden Scorpion across this desert land!”
From ten thousand mouths the cheers roared out, shaking the dunes.
“Long live the Lady General!”
“Glory for Mongaul!”
Amnelis listened with an air of satisfaction. Then, with her long cloak sweeping behind her, she sprang lightly from her dais to the ground, ignoring the short steps her attendants had prepared for her. The white knight Feldrik approached.
“Feldrik!” she called to him.
“Yes, my lady!”
“Once preparations are complete, we will march at once. If we linger here too long and let the Sem attack us, the troops’ spirits will ebb. Lead the army east according to plan, and when the Sem show themselves, hit them with all our power and destroy them. And do not forget to send out the scouts. We must find their villages.”
“I understand and obey,” Feldrik replied, saluting crisply.
“One more thing,” Amnelis said. “Marus Corps will ride in the vanguard. Send orders to the count to move at once. And inform Astrias that he will have the rearguard.”
“Very well, my lady.”
Amnelis nodded. “I will go prepare now.” The lady general strode away, her hair lifting and curling in the breeze as though it had a life of its own. It shone as it floated in the desert air behind her. Feldrik watched her go. She was truly beautiful.
Truly a sight for sore eyes. But this is a harsh expedition, with no time or room for comforts, and yet, one full squad of footsoldiers under the white knights’ command is needlessly burdened with this princess’s soft bed and sheets, her changes of clothes, and her food. And though we are in the middle of the desert her white gloves and boots do not have a speck of dust upon them. How many days’ worth of drinking water does it take to wash that hair, I wonder?
Amnelis glanced back unexpectedly and Feldrik, flustered, whirled and hurried off to give his orders. She may have looked soft and feminine, but in all other ways she was as harsh and hard as the desert itself, and few knew this better than Feldrik.
As the rest of the army finished making its preparations, Marus Corps had slowly begun to move like a giant blue snake slithering across the sand. Here and there they passed traces of fires from the night camp, left among discarded trash and broken equipment that had been tossed aside. They were the pursuers now. There was no need to cover up signs of their passage.
Seeing the lead riders begin to move, Eru of Argon hurriedly mounted and moved into formation. He still held the remnants of his breakfast in his hand, a lump of dried vasya fruit at which he gazed with evident distaste. “This vasya’s been cursed by Doal, no doubt,” he grumbled, loud enough for the knights around him to hear. “It’s terribly bitter, and it pricks the tongue. What are the rations officers thinking, handing out this stuff?”
“It’s ’cause it’s dried,” observed an older knight who rode nearby, smirking. “We can’t get fresh-picked vasya from Odain out here, you know.”
“If it’s that foul, throw it out,” grunted another.
Eru grimaced, and continued to stare at the fruit disparagingly for a while, seemingly reluctant to cast away even an awful meal when so little food was available. When the lines around him began to move, he finally gave up on it and threw it at a campfire which was still smoldering near at hand.
The discarded fruit seemed to be very dry indeed. As soon as it hit the fire, it made a small popping noise and split open, sending up a line of smoke. The smoke became a beautiful orange snake, wending up into the blue sky.
“What’s this?” Eru exclaimed with a shocked look. “That’s no vasya fruit. It’s smokegrass root! I’d have died if I’d eaten that! Now I know the rations officers are in league with Doal!”
“Must have been one of the signal packets got mixed up with the supplies!” said his companions, guffawing and trying to calm down the indignant Eru. The smoke rose in great plumes from the fire.
“Hey, somebody better throw some water on it and put out that signal-smoke,” Eru remarked grouchily. “The enemy’ll see our position! Some water…”
Everyone hurriedly looked away. Nobody wanted to waste a precious drop of water out here. It was the only thing keeping them from death in this desert.
“Ah leave it,” said one of the blue knights who had ridden up from the back of the column. “One of the footmen will kick some sand on it. And who cares if the Sem find us? By Doal’s filthy beard, if they see that smoke and come running it will save us the trouble of going to find ’em!” The knight chuckled and waved Eru forward. They were already falling behind the others.
A troop commander saw the smoke and came over to ask what had happened, but when he heard, he laughed and let it be. The smokegrass had almost burned itself out by that time anyway.
The Mongauli army was in no mood to fret about a little accident with a campfire. From the officers down to the lowliest of footsoldiers, all were filled with eagerness and courage. There was a noticeable spring in each man’s step, and even the horses seemed more spirited than usual. The only one without a smile on his face was Count Marus, and he hid his scowl behind his faceplate. Around him, the soldiers sang songs of Mongaul in loud voices as they marched.
Fearlessly the army advanced into the desert, leaving the orange smoke to rise behind them like a twisting Danayn water snake floating high into the empty heavens.