Free Fallowblade by Cecilia Dart-Thornton Page A

between Narngalis and the western kingdom.
    As the invaders pressed further into Narngalis the rumour of their advance precipitated panic. Retreating Narngalish troops had warned the civilians that pillaging aggressors were on the way, so the villagers had packed their belongings and fled with them, or hidden them in secret cellars, or buried them. They drove their herds before them, or, if their haste was too great, turned them free so that the beasts stood a chance against the arrows of the foraging infantry. Every village through which the southerners marched was deserted. They found slender pickings—a few hens, an overlooked sack of rye—and it was too early in the season for ripe fruit, or they would have stripped bare the orchards. Nonetheless, the columns carried with them sufficient provisions and were never in danger of starving. Angry that the peasants had thwarted them, some called for firing the thatch of the empty cottages, but their superior officers warned them there was to be no wanton destruction. ‘These hamlets now belong to the Crown. Anyone caught wilfully damaging the king’s property will be flogged.’ Which Crown, that of Slievmordhu or Ashqalêth, was deliberately left unclear.
    The allies surged forward in an eager wave across the countryside until they reached the outskirts of the Eldroth Fields, where the foe waited on the other side. There Uabhar called a halt. A belt of green turf, half a mile wide, separated the armies of north and south. Sitting astride his destrier Mac Brádaigh shaded his eyes against the sun’s glare, staring across the open acres at the glittering fence of troops ranged across the furthest border of the fields. The wily strategist chafed at the slightest delay, knowing they should waste no time in the assault. The decision, however, was out of his hands. For the moment, his liege lord refused to let him act.
    There was much perplexity in the Narngalish camp as to why the southerners did not attack straight away, driving home their advantage. Each hour that passed without engaging in warfare enabled the northerners to strengthen their position, throwing up embankments and redoubts, distributing provisions, honing arms and preparing armour. Had they known it, squabbles had broken out between Uabhar and Chohrab as to the most effective strategy, and the bickering led to an impasse. No fighting was in progress but the tension throughout the bivouacs was almost palpable. Each side was watching for the other to make the first move, alert for the slightest signal that the foe was on the point of launching assault.
    Late that afternoon one of Uabhar’s sentries noted a couple of peasants skulking at the edges of the Slievmordhuan encampment. His captain was about to issue orders to challenge the lurkers when he perceived that a patrolling band of Marauders, having also spotted the prowlers, was rushing to the attack.
    ‘So much for our new-pledged brother swarmsmen obeying orders to refrain from setting upon civilians,’ grunted one of the captains. ‘Not only do they have the look of wild beasts, they act like them.’
    ‘Ought we to go the rescue of the farmhands, sir?’ his lieutenant asked.
    ‘’Twould be a waste of manpower. Either those churls are wondrous fools to wander so close to armed and twitchy troops, or they are spies. In both cases they deserve the doom they have brought upon themselves.’
    The peasants disappeared from view, the Marauders hot on their heels, and the officers pondered no more on the matter.
    As darkness drew in and day gave way to evening, five eyes appeared above the surface of a muddy pool behind a stone fence at the eastern borders of the Eldroth Fields.
    ‘ Disguise ourselves as peasants , he sez! Be safe from both sides , he sez! Pity ya didn’t tell that to Krorb and Ruurt,’ a shrill voice bubbled from beneath the cluster of three eyes.
    ‘Ya’ve got to admit, this is a good hoiding spot.’ The other two eyes belonged to