I carried Icole back to the previous day's camp on my shoulder. It was far from ideal, given that he was significantly taller than I was, but it was all I could do. He said little, exhausted by the battle, his wound and the loss of Iyuki. At times during the march he fainted. When he was awake, he wept. I was glad I hadn't let him see what was left of my friend.

So far as I could tell, he was the only survivor of his fang.

We were far from the only soldiers straggling back. The Thirty-Eighth's supply train had been nearest to the edge of the forest and they'd retreated to the camp as soon as it was clear that the fires were spreading out of control. It had been a disciplined march, with two Dragons of soldiers holding a perimeter around the supplies, the engineers and the war machines. Even then they might not have made it if the legion's five Warstriders hadn't cleared the road of fallen trees by brute force.

As the sun set in the west, almost hidden by the smoke that cast a pall across that entire horizon, tangled elements of both legions found their way back.

Icole had been clear-headed enough to remember that Exalted could close their wounds and made a half-assed attempt at it before I reached him, which probably staunched enough of the blood flow to buy me that time. Once I talked him through the rest, he was probably going to make it… unless shock carried him off.

The other wounded were less lucky. Something like a third of those we walked with were being dragged or at least supported by their comrades.

My recollections of the camp that night were a blur of the surgeon's tents. I had enough essence to keep my banner lit at a low enough level that I had better light than torches or lanterns could provide, without scouring the wounded further. And my medical skills were first honed in the aftermath of battlefields.

I don't imagine the cutting tools or the needles and tweezers of my toolkit were intended for use on human flesh but they were what I had – the other surgeons needed their own gear already.

Men and women were brought to me, bloodied and broken. Those who would live without me were housed elsewhere, and there were too many on the cusp of perishing for me to go look at those who those triaging had deemed beyond care.

Sword wounds, and spear piercings. Arrows still in flesh, some barbed and in many cases spreading poisons through the body.

I barely saved one man mangled by a blood-ape – the demon had been bound by one of our own sorcerers, the man gasped as I tried to distract him by having him report. But when the Dragon-Blood fell to an arrow fired by another of the Anathema, the demon fought and killed anyone it could. Blood-apes, formally Erymanthoi, were not summoned by sorcerers for war because of their pleasant dispositions. I could believe every word of it.

When dawn crept into the tent, I saw that the next man was entering upright.

"If you're not dying, wait your turn," I told his silhouette. My anima was no match for sunlight.

"The dying have been seen to," he told me. An old man, bald and clad in… jade-steel armour. A daiklave across his back.

Through my fatigue, recognition sank in. I had seen him before.

"You're Tepet Demarol's daughter," Tepet Arada declared in surprise. "The boar-killer. What are you doing here?"

I looked down at the operating table – bloody canvas over rough wood – and arched my eyebrow at the black humour of his stupid question. He gave me a crooked smile that was just as black. Though with smoke staining both our faces, I suppose anything had that hue. I had at least managed to keep my hands clean – runners bringing water for that purpose.

The general sighed and rubbed his face. "I heard that an Earth-aspect dressed like a Linowan, wearing jade arm bracers, had killed one of the enemy demons and was last seen fighting the Bull's shaman. Was that you?"

I nodded slowly and searched the tent for somewhere to sit. "Aye," I confirmed, finding a footstool at last. "That was I."

"Did she get away?"

"No." I gestured in the direction of the still burning Ironthorn Forest. "Her body is somewhere in that. I wasn't going to leave my kinsman just to bring a trophy back."

Arada walked over and crouched in front of me. "Did he make it?"

"Missing a leg, but yes."

"Is he Exalted?"

I closed my eyes at the memory. "He is now. Mid-battle."

"That happens, sometimes. One reason we let soldiers enlist so young." He patted my shoulder. "Your first battle. It doesn't get easier, but one becomes more practised in coping. The shaman… are you the one who killed her?"

I nodded my head.

"You probably saved more lives by that than you did here." He meant in the surgical tent, I assume. "No small thing, either of them. Get what rest you can."

Opening my eyes, a crack I nodded assent and he helped me off the stool. I went no further than the corner of the tent where I curled up on the floor and let fatigue carry me under the deep depths of sleep.

I woke to someone poking at my shoulder. The sun was near its apex, I judged, looking out the tent-flap before I raised my head.

Haral, one of the monks, was at my side. "Exalted shikari, the generals have summoned all who are fit and not on watch to an address at the centre of the camp."

I nodded silently and got my feet under me. There was still a bucket of water near the operating table – thankfully not in use – and I checked the contents were clean before using it on my face and hands. It wasn't cold enough to be refreshing.

The surgeon's tents were near the centre of the camp, so we didn't have far to go to reach where soldiers were congregating. The space inside the field fortifications looked less occupied than they had when both legions had camped here, in part because few of the Forty-Third's tents had been brought back.

Rather than a full platform, Tepet Arada simply took a spear and buried the blade in the sod outside his tent. Tepet Tilis Mallon and most of his staff (the survivors, I suspected) were gathered next to Arada's veterans of the Thirty-Eighth. Most of the soldiers clustered by fang, scale and larger formations. The monks formed their own group near the circle around Arada as he leapt up and balanced casually upon the butt of the spear.

There were too few monks. With Haral, only sixteen stood. I felt a chill as I checked their faces and didn't see Sweet Memory. "The others?"

Haral looked as if a great weight was on his shoulders, which it was if Sweet Memory was… gone. He was next most senior after her. "Fire elementals amok from both sides, and then the demons. Four dead outright, two others had passed away by the time we reached the surgeons."

I swallowed. "Sweet Memory?"

The man looked away. "Still breathes, but her eyes were burned out of her face by a flame duck."

I cringed at the thought. Flame ducks were far more unpredictable and intelligent than most elementals, not to mention highly mercenary. Once the servants of a lesser elemental dragon of fire, the betrayal and death of Sorsa Endi was one of the great epic sagas of the Elemental Courts. I had no trouble believing that one could have wounded Sweet Memory seriously if she underestimated it.

"My soldiers." Arada reached over his shoulder and drew forth his daiklave, Tepet's own sword. "Tepet and mortal alike. We have been sorely wounded, seen our brothers and sisters fall in battle against our most intransigent foes. Seen the evils that can be unleashed by the Anathema."

He pointed the blade north-west towards the smoke still rising from the forest. "Fires unchecked. Demons running wild. Men and women driven to fight with unholy vigour for those who have shackled their spirit." No mention made that some of the elementals and demons had been the work of our own sorcerers.

Then the general lowered his sword and clasped the blade with one hand. "And yet, you have given us victory." Drums began to beat fiercely around us. The war drums of the legion. "With blood, with steel and most of all your matchless courage, you have brought down one of the direst foes that Creation has faced in a hundred years. And we stand victorious."

"The so-called Bull of the North lives, but for the first time he has faced the full might of the Realm. And he has been found wanting. His warbands are in retreat and their ranks stand empty and depleted by the warriors you have killed. It will take him weeks and months to rebuild from his losses." Arada paused, then swept his daiklave up to rest on his shoulder. "And one loss he will not replace."

"We marched here, my brothers and my sisters, to end the Blasphemous Samea. Anathema, like the northern warlord she served. A witch, a summoner of devils the like of which I had never seen. A woman of golden tongue and whose wiles had entrapped even the guardians of the celestial city of Yu Shan to her cause."

The old man paused and, in the silence, I saw and almost heard a droplet of blood from his fingers drop to the ground.

"And Samea is slain," Arada declared. "Brought down by your great heroism."

The cheers that rose up were like a tide. Grief at our losses, fear that we might face such again – no, let us be honest: the certainty that we would. All that was thrown aside in relief that one of Yurgen Kaneko's most dangerous allies was no more.

From atop the spear, the general sheathed his sword and let the storm of emotion sweep around him, until it was almost spent.

"Our full celebrations must wait until we return to Carnelian Peak," he continued, voice projecting effortlessly, cracking a reserved smile. "I know your discipline can withstand the wait. But there is one thing that cannot wait. Our scouts are tailing Kaneko's forces and we can be sure that he is no longer near. And thus, we must look to our own fallen, both those who may recover and those who have left us with their example to carry us through the rest of this campaign."

"I know that you are weary, but work parties must return to the Ironthorn Forest to recover our dead, to cut firebreaks to contain what remains of the fires, and to rescue those wounded who may still be hiding there and unable to leave unaided. General Mallon will command our base camp here, while I lead those work parties and the soldiers sent to secure them."

Despite all the elation of a moment ago, there seemed little enthusiasm for the prospect of these grim tasks. I could understand it, for there was every likelihood that besides fires and the fallen we might also find the demons and elementals that had wreaked such havoc. And if work went on into the night, the hungry ghosts of those not yet given funerary rites could add to the risks.

And yet, as officers began to call orders, the discipline of the legions began to reinstate itself and the soldiers began to recover weapons and armour, reforming into their accustomed ranks.

Haral slapped me on the shoulder. "I understand you are a surgeon," he told me. "Stay here in the camp. There will be every need for you here, many of the less wounded have had little care in the rush to see to those who were close to death."

Leaving the bulk of his own legion to man outposts and begin pushing the northern forces out of his remaining foothold in Rokan-Jin, Tepet Arada elected to accompany the Forty-Third as they marched back to Carnelian Peak.

We must have looked a sorry sight, perhaps four thousand marching soldiers alongside wagons and chariots commandeered to carry the wounded. But once it was made clear that we were far from the only survivors of the fifteen thousand who had marched out in less than two weeks before, the city's mood tempered.

Alcohol flowed freely in the taverns that naturally sprang up around any army and I will not belabour what happened in the brothels that were similarly ever present. Samea's death was trumpeted as if the Bull was all but defeated without her, an assessment that gravely underestimated Yurgen Kaneko's resourcefulness.

I knew Arada's judgement was better than that, with evidence arriving three days later. All the city stilled in wonder as a flotilla of sky-barques descended upon the mountain city.

"Fifth Legion," Tepet Lisara declared, examining the standards visible on the decks through an eyeglass. "I thought that they were fighting the Arczechi."

"They were." Tepet Tilis Mallon folded his arms. "But this is more important. The general called in a lot of favours to commit sky-barques this far from the Blessed Isle."

I was present at the headquarters, which was currently based out of Carnelian Peak's citadel. The city's lord and his court had been displaced and I had no more idea where they were than I had as to why Arada had summoned me here. The soldiers present seemed to have as little idea, although most took a moment to offer me praise for killing Samea.

I had, for good or ill, made my name within the army for the deed. Most of the officers I met were awed right up until they saw how small, young and comparatively ill-equipped I was.

I had even received a very generous offer of a suit of articulated plate from one of the dead in Ironthorn Forest. Besides bringing back the dead, our work parties had taken pains to bring back as much equipment as they could. The war gear of our soldiers was a significant advantage and no one wanted to let the Bull scavenge enough from the battlefield to start fielding a significant number of heavy infantry.

He was bad enough as it was. And to add to that, it seemed at least one of the Forty-Third's warstriders was missing after the battle. Pasiap's Mighty Fist was a colossus-class warstrider, a brute well suited to siege operations. Mind you, it was also infamously unlucky. There was a nasty joke going around that if the Bull's forces had salvaged it, they might find it was far more of a threat to them than it was to us.

Still, if we were ever besieged either here or at one of the field camps further from the city, the warstrider would pose quite the problem.

I had declined the offer of armour though. Suspicious as it might seem to others in the army, unlike the sanctified martial arts of the Immaculate Order, Crimson Pentacle Blade and other styles I used did not accommodate the wearing of armour.

"I don't think an entire legion could be carried, even by that many ships," I noted, taking a count. Sky-barques aren't small, but they're also rather inefficient for moving a large number of people or supplies. And the maintenance was… rather challenging. Once they got back to the Realm, it might be weeks before they were really fit for use again.

Incarnae help Arada if one was lost, I didn't think that the Realm could build a replacement for one of those sky-barques if Her Scarlet Majesty's own life depended upon it. The Imperial Army's headquarters would have his head on a platter.

Mallon gave me a paternal smile. "The command group, the core of their heavy equipment and specialists are aboard," he told me. "Along with volunteers and additional supplies from the Realm. The medium infantry and auxiliaries are marching north from Greyfalls, but the sky-barques will make another run for the heavy infantry."

Two flights by the skybarques? I was impressed. That wasn't just favours, Arada must have literal blackmail over someone. Lots of someones.

"Nothing against the Fifth," noted Lisara, folding up the eyeglass. "But if it was literally any other Legion, I wouldn't be feeling that the Realm was leaving this only to House Tepet."

Mallon shrugged philosophically. "With the Scarlet Empress in seclusion, the capital's officers are hesitant about redeployments. Look on the bright side, no sharing the glory! If you can bring down another of the Anathema, you'll be the toast of the capital once we return home, Lisara. You and Alina."

The woman smiled warmly at the encouragement, but it didn't reach her eyes. She was a cold fish, Lisara, but I was inclined to think she was right. With the Fifth, House Tepet's full force was all committed to just one campaign… which was very much putting all the eggs in one basket. "Could be the Vermilion Legion, I suppose," she conceded.

"Will they also carry the worst wounded home?" I asked Mallon since he seemed inclined to answer me.

"They will," he agreed. "We owe them that and more. Young Icole and the senior monk… Sad Memory?"

"Sweet Memory."

"Aye, her. I like their chances of recovering better there."

It wasn't as if anyone was going to be providing Icole with a new leg or Sweet Memory with new eyes out here. They were possible, though. It would be expensive to fit Icole with a clockwork prosthesis and I imagined that House Tepet would consider a new exalt worth the investment. What the Immaculate Order would decide for Sweet Memory I could only guess at.

As we watched, the skybarques settled onto Carnelian Peak's marketplace, which had been entirely cleared and was now surrounded by almost five hundred soldiers. No chances could be taken of anyone getting close enough to damage the vessels. Even admirers were kept at a distance and no one left the vessels until Arada himself went out to one and confirmed that they were in safe territory.

With that done, ramps were lowered and more soldiers served as stevedores to help the new arrivals unload carefully packed war machines. More warstriders were carried towards the workshops where they could be readied for use. Warbirds that had served as escorts settled down and the available sorcerer-technicians bustled to ensure they would be fit to continue that role. Essence cannon and lightning ballistae were carefully carried out and placed on wagons that would take them to the walls where they could reinforce our defences until it was decided where they and many other weapons would be employed.

Lisara made an unhappy noise as she saw the volunteers disembark. I understood her concern, for they showed little discipline and many carried artifacts awkwardly, most likely having been given family heirlooms to carry when they went into harm's way. Perhaps having volunteered only for that inducement or having been voluntold by their elders.

It was a long way from the cadres of hardened shikari or an influx of experienced legion veterans that could have filled out the Forty-Third's depleted ranks.

Arada's return sent a ripple through the tower we were in. He was carrying a wooden box himself, having elected for some reason not to entrust it to anyone else. "I called for Tepet Demarol Alina," he asked an aide. "Has she arrived yet?"

"I'm here." I spoke up before the aide had to, and stepped out from where the armoured bulk of Mallon and Lisara had hidden me from the old general. "What can I do for you, General?"

He gave me a wintery smile. "I have a gift for you, Alina. And a burden."

"The reward for a job well done?"

He shrugged and placed the box on a map table, pushing several markers aside from the depiction of Carnelian Peak's position. "Aye, both of them."

"Firstly, the burden." He opened a scroll. "Attention to orders."

The soldiers in the room – everyone but myself – came to attention. I straightened but I'd never been part of the legions proper.

"I, Tepet Arada, General by the Grace of Her Most Scarlet Majesty of the Thirty-Eighth Legion of the Imperial Army, granted imperium over all legions, auxiliaries and supernumerary forces assigned to the holy crusade against the Anathema Yurgen Kaneko hereby appoint and enrol Tepet Demarol Alina to the acting rank of Scalelord in the auxiliaries of the Thirty-Eighth Legion. Hereby you may not fail the duty that is placed in you, the missions you are charged with, nor your obligation to the throne, at your peril."

He formally saluted, and the other officers did likewise. I returned it, rather clumsily.

"No oath?" I asked under my breath.

"Acting rank in the auxiliaries," Arada muttered, similarly discreetly as he clasped my forearm in less congratulations. "Tradition is to threaten them, not trust them." Then he raised his voice. "And now that you have been given the burden, permit me to share the gift."

He lifted the lid of the box on the map table and revealed the contents, two finely crafted gauntlets of black-jadesteel. "Almost two hundred years ago, after I killed the Anathema Jochim, I was rewarded with this daiklave." He indicated the weapon across his back. "While I cannot claim that these smashfists were the panoply of my revered grandfather, they are of considerable lineage, having been held in the armoury of our House since the then-General Tepet supported her Scarlet Majesty against the rebellion of Manosque Viridian over five hundred years ago. It is said that they were once the weapons of Viridian's mother, the founder of his house and a daughter of the Empress, seized by Tepet when he secured the Manosque lands. Over the centuries since, they have been granted to many a hero of our house. Wear them with honour."

While black jade was more associated with water-aspected Terrestrials, there was no particular reason I couldn't use them. I accepted the artifact gauntlets and also Arada's unspoken mission. Many Tepet had worn these… but the smashfists had returned to the armoury of the House, for none of those Dragon-Blooded had left an enduring lineage to claim them as heirlooms.

"Alina!"

I was looking for my new command amid the somewhat less familiar section of the sprawling encampment when I heard my name being called. I turned and saw familiar broad shoulders, a wide face and a hand raised in greetings.

By Pasiap, Udano had grown even larger since I last saw him!

Then I blinked. "Udano?"

He nodded, approaching me and offered a formal salute – subordinate to superior. "Alina."

Asking what he was doing here would be pointless, obviously he was no more resistant to the draw of the drums of war than any other Tepet. Of the hundred or so Exalted who had arrived from the Blessed Isle, more than ninety were of our house. The near total of absence of anyone from the other Great Houses was a telling sign of how politically isolated we were.

Not a single Sesus, Cynis or Mnemon. Nor V'Neef, although that was hardly surprising. When House Nellens, of all great houses, sent more volunteers to a war than House Cathak then something was very wrong. And the one Cathak boy who'd arrived had already been the cause of frantic letters as apparently the grimcleaver he'd brought with him wasn't officially his… nor had his family consented to his decision to board the skybarques.

I kind of admired the kid's gumption. Although I also had to remind myself that he was at least five years my elder and would probably object to being called a kid.

"Udano," I began and then realised that all our conversation so far had been each other's name. I gave myself a little shake. "Welcome to Carnelian Peak. You didn't sneak away from your family to come here, did you?"

"I'm not a Cathak." He was wearing a long, heavy coat of behemothskin. Not as good as jade-steel armour, but better than the leather and steel worn by most of the legions. Behemoths are the size of small mountains and their skin is correspondingly thick and sturdy. There was a legion-issue short-sword in a scabbard under the coat, I saw.

I grinned. "You heard about that one."

He nodded. "Erika was furious." A pause. "Because she got caught."

That sounded very much like her. "Perhaps next time. Have they given you quarters, anything to do?"

He shrugged. "Nothing much. Yourself?"

I tapped the rank badge on my chest, marking me as a scalelord and he gave it an admiring look. The badge, I mean. Not my chest. What there is of it. "Want to join my scale? I haven't found them yet, but I expect there's room."

The towering young dynast considered that solemnly and then nodded.

Asking around finally brought us to a cluster of four legion-standard tents, each with room inside for five men. I guessed that the last was probably unneeded since there were only seventeen men and women clustered around a single fire, eating an uninspiring looking potage. I'd have to do something about the rations, obviously. Most likely the last tent had either been lost or reassigned to make good the deficiencies in equipment in the Forty-Third after the battle.

"Is this late Scale-lieutenant Adeli's force?" I asked bluntly. Auxiliary units rarely had formal numbers or names, just one more way they were set apart from the more valued heavy and medium infantry.

The man who answered had the shoulders of a lifelong archer – a trait common among those at the fire. "Yes, Exalted lord."

"Then you're now Tepet Demarol Alina's scale," I told him. "This is Tepet Vergus Udano, he's with me." Then, as they started trying to put dishes aside to salute me, I waved them down. "Save it, I doubt any of us get fed well enough to let a meal get cold right now."

There was a murmur of amusement, perhaps not entirely feigned. I picked out the Fang-sergeants. Three of them, so we were a little short. I could deal with that.

The man who'd spoken up was one of them and he left his spoon in his bowl, looking at me carefully. "Scalelord, are you the same Alina who slew the Anathema?"

"Slew is a pretty word for it. I beat her against the ground until she stopped moving and I ripped her throat out," I told him. The harsh truth would serve best, I felt. "Is anyone missing or are we understrength?"

The fang-sergeant – his name was Kelet – looked pained. "Scale-lieutenant Adeli and the remainder of the force were lost in the skirmish screen as our parent Dragon reformed, sir."

"In the Ironthorn?" I asked for clarification.

He nodded sharply and I grimaced. If the Icewalkers or local forces were close enough to be charging in the forest, a skirmish line of archers wasn't going to stop them. The heavier infantry should have formed their own skirmish line with the archers behind them to focus down leakers – and there would be leakers.

So in short, the auxiliaries had been used as expendable shields until someone with no imagination and few brains got the 'more valuable' unit into a single mass that would probably have been minced if any of the enemy heavy-hitters had turned up. Which they probably hadn't, since only a third of the archers had been casualties, assuming that this scale was typical.

"Well, the good news is that we're not going to be attached to a line infantry force," I noted. "Of course, that can be bad news if we need reinforcements. The battle cost the enemy more than he probably liked, so the best guess is that he'll pull back and try to keep us guessing about his dispositions as he rebuilds."

I leaned over the pot and shook my head in disappointment. That would never do. I don't expect fine cuisine in the field, but the vegetables hadn't been cut finely enough for this and they weren't boiling evenly. Clearly cooking lessons were in order.

"That means that we'll be on scouting operations," I continued. "The Bull is using Haltans as his eyes and ears, so we get to spend our time trying to be better at spotting them than they are at spotting us. If that sounds fun and exciting then you're half right."

"I hear they're like ghosts," someone muttered.

"In terms of trying to spot them in a forest?" I asked. "Not an unfair comparison. There's a trick or two we can do. You've reached the second tier of essence handling, right, Udano?"

He nodded, looming up behind me like a monolith.

"Great, then I can teach you a trick." I gave the scale what was intended to be a reassuring smile. "I'm not the world's best archer, but I do know how to use essence to improve not only my senses, but that of the people alongside me. And contrary to popular belief, that is not limited to fellow Exalted. Between myself and Udano, we should be able to keep that going."

I was trying to be reassuring, but I'm not sure it came across. Possibly because I still looked like the school girl that I technically was.

"Now, are any of you missing some of your issued equipment? I might have a little pull to fix deficiencies, but it won't be long until I'm yesterday's hero so speak up now…"

There are, broadly speaking, two ways to hunt something.

Firstly, you can rush around and make a great deal of effort to find them - usually by doing something to scare them into moving - and then chase after your prey until they're in your grasp. (Or they escape, but no plan is perfect).

The second - and as an Earth-aspect, you may assume that I prefer this - is to work out where they're likely to be and wait there until they arrive. Obviously, there may be many possibilities so you might have to cover several. This can lead to a waste of effort… but since this effort is mostly patience, I have little issue with it.

Thus, talonlord Tepet Marek Balac's plan for catching some of the Haltans harassing our supply lines had my approval. Not, I suppose, that he cared very much about whether or not I liked the plan.

I consulted the map (to be generous in describing it) that I'd been provided and then the thicket of trees on one side of what could, by stretching a point, be considered a road. I'd have said track - I suspect that more had been done to widen and improve the route by the supply carts feeding the Thirty-Eighth legion's advance north than all the civil engineers in Rokan-Jin's history. (They must have had civil engineers, Carnelian Peak actually had fairly decent drains).

"This is it, up into the trees," I ordered laconically.

Udano stared at the trees, then down at himself. To be fair, he was the largest member of my scale, which wasn't bad for someone not yet seventeen.

I shrugged at his conflicted expression. "Find a big tree," I advised and then raised my voice again for the attention of the troops. "Report if anyone finds any signs someone has been lurking up in the branches."

"What about our gear?" asked Turok, one of the fang-sergeants.

"Take it with you," I told him firmly. "We're going to be living in these trees, at least until the next supply convoy passes."

Thicket was a bit of a misnomer, I decided as I looked at the trees. The entire kingdom of Rokan-Jin was covered in patchy forest except around villages and towns where fields had been cleared. Mostly, I suspected, by grazing goats and swine. This patch was denser than most, with several tall trees with high branches that interlaced a bit, but it wasn't entirely separated by any real division from the rest of the woodlands.

But it was ideal for the sort of hides and ambush tactics favoured by the Haltans.

"The Haltans live among the trees," I lectured, moving in among the trees and touching one trunk after another, picking a suitable candidate. "They prefer whenever possible to lair among them. Even if they're planning to raid a target on the ground, their camps and ambush points will almost always be up a tree. If they're after the convoy then there's a very good chance they'll want to launch their attack from up in those branches. So, I intend that we should be there first and give them a nasty surprise."

It wasn't possible for any one of the trees to take up more than two or three of my soldiers, and they climbed with considerably more effort and cursing than I suspected the Haltans would need. But that was nothing but a detail in my eyes.

Finding a tree that suited me - in that it had branches low enough for me to get hold of, mainly - I scrambled up and into the foliage, reaching a vantage point around twenty feet off the ground where I could use two different branches to secure myself. I had a coil of rope slung over my shoulder, as my troops should. Not an immense length, but enough that I was able to string it back and forth between the branches, creating a little perch for myself.

"Three hours on, three hours off," I called to Udano, who was within hearing. "I'm up first."

He'd climbed a little higher in his tree than I had, using a cleft in his chosen tree to hold himself up. He used his own rope to tie himself in place, which was the approach of about half my troops. The Dragon-Blooded youth waved his hand in casual acknowledgement, which I took as agreement.

For now, there was no need to involve anyone else. I closed my eyes briefly and channelled my essence into my ears and my eyes. My nose, my tongue… even my skin. Every sound grew clearer, every ridge on the bark beneath my hands more distinct. I could smell the grease in the tiny cracks of my soldiers' armour, the smoked jerky that made up a good part of our rations and…

"Rooster!" I snapped. "No booze!"

The soldier, almost sixty yards upwind of me, flinched so violently he almost fell out of the tree. "I dunt know whad you mean," he whined, probably barely audible without my senses being enhanced in this fashion.

I stared at one of the two soldiers in the same tree as the idiot. "Go through his pack, find it and pass it down to me," I ordered sharply. "I said you could have a little wine in your water bottles. Not what has to be a couple of pints of corn-whiskey."

The pair grabbed hold of Rooster and one of them opened the pack on his back. Unscrewing the cap on his flask made it doubly clear what he'd brought. Obediently, he replaced the cap and slung it over to the next tree, where their fang-sergeant (it was Kelet) caught it and passed it on.

From one hand to another, the heavy flask reached Udano, who gave me a questioning look as he threw it over to me. I caught it by the strap. "If the Haltans find us, we can use it to disinfect wounds." I wrinkled my nose. "I'm certainly not putting that rotgut inside of me."

There was a ripple of laughter from the nearest trees as I hung the flask by its carrying strap from a branch where it would be out of the way.

We spent two days in the trees, Udano and I spending much of our hours off-watch napping or meditating to replenish the essence we were expending to keep our senses keen.

It meant that the two of us barely spoke to each other, save for when we were handing over responsibility to each other. That was fair enough, I needed the time to get familiar with my new command. I was asking a lot of them on relatively short acquaintance, so it wouldn't do to seem too distant or uncaring for them.

Staying entirely still would have been unfeasible for any of us, myself included, but they obeyed my orders and stayed in the trees. Rooster, without his booze to entertain him, proved useful in stringing ropes to some of the outlying trees so that individuals could even move between them if absolutely necessary, without needing to climb down.

I deemed one of those necessary cases to be moving around so they all got a chance to experience having their senses being reinforced by my essence. That trick was one thing that was distinct to the Terrestrial Exalted and even those Celestial Exalted who could copy our ways rarely seemed to find those charms something they wanted to learn.

In this case though, as long as I didn't overdo it, I could keep one of my soldiers operating with the same enhanced sense as me for about a third of an hour. Some took to it better than others, but I gave them all a chance to try on the first day. From that evening onwards I kept it to just those few near me, not wanting to move around too far and disturb those sleeping, and from the next day I focused on those who seemed most comfortable with the experience.

And in the middle of our second afternoon, Turok – who happened to be the one I'd chosen to reinforce the senses of for this watch - muttered a warning that he could hear something moving through the trees.

Not on the ground either, moving through the branches. I heard his warning as easily as if I'd been right next to the fang-sergeant and turned slightly to face in the right direction.

Yes, I could hear it too. They were moving quietly, whoever they were, and following the route of the road, more or less. They'd have been far faster to actually use it, which suggested that staying out of sight was a priority for them, which was telling.

Given the choice I suspect anyone moving covertly would have preferred to come from down-wind of the spot, but conveniently the wind was currently blowing across the road at us and the woods in that direction were sparser. Presumably the need for concealment had taken priority.

Waking Udano and the handful of soldiers who were also taking the very sensible opportunity to get some sleep only took a few moments and then we waited, weapons in hand.

"False alarm," Turok reported apologetically. "It's some kind of wild cat."

Most of the archers started resecuring their weapons, but I shook my head sharply. "Haltans work with animals a lot," I warned, voice steady and low enough that only those in the same tree as I was – or Turok with his hearing bolstered by my essence – would hear me. "It could be a san-beast or an ata-beast."

The former were basically trained animals, but far smarter than most. Less common but more dangerous, ata-beasts were fully as intelligent and able to speak as people. Under Haltan law that was exactly what they were. Linowan and their affiliated tribes, given their long enmity for the Haltan peoples, were generally less than sympathetic to this view and I guessed that it was relatively unusual for the Legions to have to worry about it.

Turok nocked an arrow to his bow, an example followed by the rest of his fang. He glanced across the distance to me in open question, but said nothing, clearly reckoning himself too close to the intruder to speak without being overheard.

I nodded and a moment later I heard all five bowstrings, not to mention the sound of the arrows.

Then a short, pained yowl and a thump as the targeted creature fell from the branches.

"May sure of it," I ordered, indicating the next fang to Turok's. If there was follow-up, I wanted the savvier officer and his men ready to respond to it.

Two of the soldiers descended and even with my vision as sharp as it was, the shadows meant I could only vaguely see them close in, then the rapid drop of a blunt weapon against it.

"Some kind of tree-pard," the soldier declared, facing me but not raising his voice. I made a mental note that he was a quick learner and realised I'd hear.

Udano looked over at me. "Do you think that that's it?"

"If it was just a random tree-pard, perhaps. But if it was scouting for the Haltans then they might chase up to find out what happened to their scout." I climbed out of my little nest and stretched a little. "First and fourth fangs move up to flank the second." Second was Turok's. "Udano, stay here with third fang to cover our rear in case this was a distraction."

Even adding Udano and myself, there were only nineteen of us so fourth fang was understrength, but myself and thirteen mortals should be enough to handle a small force or survive long enough to withdraw if it was a large force.

As I climbed through the trees I reached out and tagged three more of the soldiers opportunistically, reinforcing their senses as well. In a skirmish like this one, whoever saw the enemy first would be at an advantage. Haltan animals might give them an edge so I wanted to level the playing field.

Once we were in position, there was another wait, a nerve-wracking one. The charm to reinforce my senses, and thus that of my soldiers was just beginning to fade when I picked up a flicker of movement.

Turning my head, I saw it again. In the tree branches? Yes… and something below, presumably something or someone heavier and not willing to rely on the fewer and smaller trees outside the thicket.

I raised my hand in warning and the men and women of my scale loosened weapons in their scabbards before opening the secure covers on their quivers (absolutely vital when climbing a tree) and nocking an arrow.

What was moving through the trees was a wolf-spider, which was just as typically Haltan as a tree-pard. I didn't like our chances of avoiding it spotting us – the wolf-aspect is more its size and tendency to operate in packs, than it is a reflection of it relying more on scent than sight to identify prey.

The fact that this one was alone suggested that it was an ata-beast not a san-beast. My limited experience of those was that even san-wolf-spiders disliked having none of their own kind around them, even trusted humans not being a substitute.

On the other hand, we were still covered by the leaves and branches, so we had better cover than if we were on the ground.

There was a cry from ahead and for a moment I thought we'd been spotted, but instead someone ran forward towards us, heedless of the risk.

The Haltan – the type of armour was distinctive – seemed oblivious to risk as he ran directly to the body of the tree-pard. A human partner of the creature? I might never know.

Other Haltans were close behind, some obviously cursing their companion's recklessness. As well they might. I dropped my arm sharply in signal and the thicket was suddenly a cacophony of bow fire, screams and footsteps as men on the floor dived for cover with commendably quick reactions.

It sounded cacophonous to me, at least. My ears still had essence channelled through them so it was hard to miss them.

Lacking a bow, I couldn't add to the initial volley, nor to the follow-up shots as members of my scale picked off those Haltans who hadn't found sufficiently secure hiding places. I noticed that the man who'd broken cover earlier to rush to the tree-pard was still crawling towards it, determined despite three arrows having visibly penetrated his leather and wood armour. As I watched, a fourth arrow caught him in the spine and he fell at last, dying with his fingers still a yard short of the tree-pard.

The wolf-spider was on the move and I leapt from branch to branch, moving to intercept. I wasn't sure how dangerous a wolf-spider was, I've never really had to fight one before.

I clenched my fist, feeling the jadesteel plates close around my fingers.

And then I leapt from the last branch and tackled the eight-legged predator off its own footholds. It squealed as we tumbled through the air. I twisted, keeping it from catching hold of anything and ensuring that I'd land on top of the ata-beast.

It didn't like the landing but the instant I was braced, I slapped my right smashfist against its face. Chitin crushed under the blow and all eight legs stopped waving in the air. Had I killed it? I backed off, checking no one was sneaking up on me. No, no one.

And the wolf-spider's heart was not beating. I turned and went back to re-join my men, making a note not to hit any of the surviving Haltans that hard. A prisoner to interrogate would be valuable…

I didn't need to worry about prisoners, it seemed. Turok had brought his fang down from the tree and persuaded two survivors from the Haltans to surrender. Admittedly one of those case of persuasion had been by applying the back-end of an axe to a Haltan's head, but when I examined his skull later it didn't seem to be seriously cracked - more that the man was concussed and neither able nor willing to stand up at the moment. Granted, head injuries are chancy, but I would have guessed no more than a one in ten chance of him dying as a result.

The other prisoner was a woman and she'd presumably had the wit to realise she had no chance surrounded by an entire fang, for her war-boomerang was on the forest floor and she had placed her hands behind the back of her head. One of Turok's men was removing her machete as I reached them.

"Scalelord," the fang-sergeant greeted me. "I assumed you wanted us to accept surrenders?"

I hadn't given orders about that, an oversight. I was rustier than I'd thought at small unit operations. Thank the Incarnae for subordinates with a good idea of when to show initiative. "Yes, good thinking. Let's not make this nastier than we have to."

If we weren't taking surrenders, the Bull likely would as well and that would lead to atrocities - which are both morally indefensible and have a nasty way of creating shadowlands: places where the underworld overlapped with Creation. I'd really rather minimise the number of routes between those two planes of existence, given the war that was coming.

"Move them over to the edge of the road and tie them up," I continued. "Do we have anyone wounded?"

"Nothing in my fang."

I nodded to Turok and then called the same question up into the trees.

The responses indicated that we had been stupidly lucky. The only one injured at all was Rooster, who had taken an arrow to his arm… but even that was incidental because the arrow had barely penetrated the leather of his sleeve, causing little more than a scratch. I could only assume that the archer had been in mid-draw and loosed the arrow unintentionally before the string was fully taut because at this range even a hunting bow should have been able to punch an arrow through boiled leather.

"You just did this to get hold of your whiskey," I teased the soldier. "Put pressure on it until we know if we're secure enough for you to take your armour off and get it cleaned."

He tried to salute, then winced and aborted the gesture. "I cun neider cunfirm nur deny, scalelord." I didn't know where he came from, but the accent was so thick that maybe it had made good any deficiency in his armour.

"Udano!" I called up, "Any sign of anyone else?"

"Nothing!" he called down. "Do you expect one?"

I didn't, but I could be wrong. "Not ruling it out." There had been twenty Haltans, if you counted the tree-pard and wolf-spider - which the Haltans probably did. They operated in similarly sized units to us, albeit with some tree-based terms which probably made sense given their homeland. That suggested that nothing much had been detached from the force we'd encountered. They might be part of a larger force - a counterpart to Balac's talon - but in that case we'd be better running to warn the supply convoy than fighting.

Decisions, decisions.

"Rooster, get down here!" I ordered. Better to treat him and question the prisoner who might be able to give answers. "Udano, I'm going to need the whiskey."

Several minutes later I had seen to the injured prisoner, washed Rooster's injury and bandaged it (I'm sure his fang had someone capable of handling the matter, but I see no reason not to provide the most competent available medical care, which was inarguably mine), and allowed the legionary to 'wash the inside' with the whiskey as well.

All the preliminaries, in other words. And Udano was hanging around which strongly indicated that he wanted to talk about something. I gave him a questioning look and he nodded towards the Haltan woman, indicating that whatever he wanted to discuss could wait.

So, now I needed to intimidate a Haltan commando who was most of a foot taller than me and perhaps a decade my elder. Hmm. Well, I am Exalted, which could help a bit.

In addition to tying her hands in front of her, Turok's men had tied her ankles together and then used the same rope to tie her to a tree, so I guess that she wasn't going to escape quickly. I guess since we had so much rope...

"So, this is probably where I threaten you with all the horrible things that I'll do to you if you don't answer my questions, and answer them honestly." I gave her a shrug and a little smile. "But to be honest, I've never really put much faith in torture. So how about this? If I decide you're being co-operative, I won't hand you over to the Linowan."

The woman looked away, trying and failing to hide how much that frightened her. Several hundred years of fighting had left any number of feuds and grudges between Haltans and Linowan that had matured into horrible treatment of warriors of one side that fell into the hands of the other. Officers and people of rank might well be retained for ransom or exchange but I didn't see any particular status symbols on this woman.

"Hmm?" I prompted.

"What…" She coughed and started again. "What do you want to know?"

"What were you here for?"

The woman sighed. "We were going to raid supply carts using this road."

"Just the twenty of you?"

"If there were more guards than we could handle, then we were to inflict enough losses by sniping that your legions would have to keep diverting troops to guard the carts."

That was good doctrine. A few raids like this could have thousands of soldiers pulled away from the advance, while even if we'd entirely wiped out every raid only a hundred soldiers would have been lost. I rubbed my chin. "Why did you just rush in when your scout didn't return."

That got a pained look. "There are rumours that the Wind Dancer is leaving bear-traps out for our san-beasts and ata-beasts. Heartwood didn't want to abandon his companion."

I looked at her for a moment and then snorted. "Let me guess, half your force were rookies getting blooded."

"H-how…" Then she sighed. "I suppose it was obvious."

I nodded. She seemed to be being honest with me, at least for now. "I may have more questions. Stay quiet and we'll feed you. Stay co-operative and you and your friend will be confined under legionary guard, not handed over to our allies."

Turning away from her I walked over to Udano. "We've probably got time. What's on your mind?"

My friend hesitated a moment longer, trying to put his thoughts into words. "Did you hold me back because you don't… trust isn't the word. Could you not rely on me?"

I blinked, considered and then hid a smile. Ah the offended pride of a young man. I hadn't considered that in my plan, but even if I had, I would have done the same. Partly because it was Udano's first real battle and I'd rather break him in easily, but that wasn't something that I needed him to know.

"I needed one of us to be with the rear guard, in case they had mystical support out flanking us," I told him. It had the advantage of being true. "And given that I've never worked with my scale before, I needed to let them take my measure so it was best for me to be on the front rank this time."

Udano considered that for a moment and then nodded. "I worry," he admitted. "This is new to me. And… next time?"

I spread my hands. "Depends on the tactical situation, but I'll put you where the mission needs you. I'm not going to baby you any more than I did in the dojo."

The massively built young man rubbed his jaw, probably thinking back to some of the times I'd really hammered him in the dojo back at Root and Reed School. "Fair."

Yeah, I'd probably better put him up front next time it made sense. If he could handle the rear line then chances were that he'd be alright getting his hands dirty in the fighting. And if not… well, that's always the risk you run. He should be alright – he's been raised for this. But you can never really tell…

I crammed the doubts aside and got back to managing the scale. We'd best move our watch post in case we'd been observed, and wait to join the supply carts once they reached us. If nothing else, they'd be better equipped to handle the prisoners…