Free The Heretic by David Drake, Tony Daniel

team of four herbidaks arranged in the typical Redlander manner, three abreast behind with one in the lead dak position.
    The daks were similar animals to the riding donts, but without a dont’s spinal plumage. Daks also had much more rounded heads—heads with a single plated horn that terminated in a breathing hole at the very top. Both donts and daks were closely related, and each was capable of producing eye-stinging droplets of acidic drool and phlegm from their breathing holes when they huffed and puffed, however.
    Abel, nevertheless, thought of daks as an inferior species to the riding donts, not nearly so noble. But they were useful animals, nonetheless, and they could and would interbreed with riding donts to produce remarkably strong mules on occasion.
    Abel scrambled down and took a narrow, barely perceptible trail into the brush to deliver the caravan’s position. He found the Scouts gathered in a clearing not far inside the thicket.
    “Hundred strides, no more.”
    Sharplett took in this news, then turned to the other Scouts and gave the hand signal for them to mount up.
    The donts had been waiting patiently. But these were experienced beasts, and the fact that their neck plumage was erect indicated that they were aware something was afoot. The Scout squad mounted adroitly and trotted up to the edge of the clearing they occupied.
    Dont tongues flickered out to taste the wind. One dont pawed the ground with a fore claw. Abel knew that, at speed, these donts would rise up on their rear legs and run like a human. And when they did, those forefeet became rending appendages that could tear a man in half.
    The men unlimbered muskets from saddle holsters and unlatched the black-powder cartridge boxes hanging upon their belts. There were only so many rifles to go around, and it wasn’t only Kruso but several of the Scouts who preferred a bow to a musket or pistol in a close fight. Three of the Scouts had decided to go in with bows rather than muskets. What the bows lacked in firepower, they made up for in rate of fire. Reloading a musket rifle was a three-stage process, and stage one required tipping the muzzle up to receive powder—not an easy task to perform while riding a charging dont. Reloading a bow could be done in a single, one-handed motion.
    Abel returned up the trail to the thicket’s edge. Kruso and Himmel were in position across the way.
    He waited nervously for the first shot.
    Remember, those carts are what matters here.
    Why? Why are they so important?
    Because I am not sure what is inside them, even after extended extrapolation, Center said . I have made a good guess, but I require specific confirmation for our future plans.
    So they’re payoff goods or whatever, and somebody in Cascade’s a traitor? What of it?
    For one thing, the goods themselves may point to who is to blame, Raj replied.
    On a larger scale, Center put in, knowing which of the Redland clans is most likely to initiate the new round of Blood Winds will be essential if we are to mitigate its effect and use the results as leverage against Zentrum’s strategy of prolonged technological stasis.
    I’m a Scout. I want to fight, not be a signalman and a slink!
    Really? Let us assume you have your way. Observe:
    What do they need a signalman for? They’ll know when to strike from the muzzle blasts.
    And it seems Abel is correct, for when he neglects to give the signal, but instead charges at point, his rifle at ready, his bayonet affixed, the squad soon comes thundering after. The donts race past him, and he’s left sprinting in their dust, but he doesn’t care.
    But his appearance on the rise has been spotted. It is a matter of a few seconds. But those seconds are enough.
    A shout goes up from the Redlander leader. Ambush! He calls his men to turn back from pursuing the sharpshooters, and soon they are in rough formation facing west. Not perfect. But good enough.
    Scouts and donts charge.
    Instead of being taken by surprise, the