Kings of the North - Elizabeth Moon [36]
Dorrin turned in the saddle. Eddes had indeed dropped back to take Beclan’s place, and Daryan had reined his mount to the side of the road, waiting for them to pass. Gwenno pushed her horse into a stronger trot and reached Daryan before the head of the column.
“Neatly done,” Dorrin said. She waved the column on, and they started again.
That night they camped in a field near a cluster of farm buildings. Dorrin assigned one squire—Gwenno this time—and two of the militia to dig the jacks; Beclan and Daryan set up her tent and their own and took the horses to water and to graze while the rest cut out a fire ring and Efla cooked supper.
“I wondered how you’d handle them,” the Marshal-General said.
“Hmm?” Dorrin stretched, arching her back.
“The squires. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised; you’ve handled recruits before—”
“And Kieri’s squires from time to time. He assigned them to different cohorts when he had enough of them. Their fathers had sent them to us to learn military things, after all.”
“What do you think of these?”
“After one day? It’s too soon to make judgments.” She hoped she’d know much more by the time they reached Verrakai lands.
Supper was less than successful; Efla had never cooked over a campfire before. Her attempt at bread came out scorched on the outside and gooey on the inside, the redroots burned to the bottom of the pot, and only the sausages, toasted on sticks, and the sib were really good.
“Never mind,” Dorrin said, to her apologies. “Clean out the pot—we can eat the last of the city bread tonight and in the morning, and tomorrow night I’ll show you some tricks about cooking outdoors.”
The long summer twilight softened around them; the first stars came out as they sat around the campfire. “My lord,” Beclan said, “when you’re moving an army, how many guards do you put out?”
“It depends on terrain,” Dorrin said, “and what trouble you expect. But here, on this road, when I had most of a cohort with me—”
“You were on this road with a cohort? I thought Duke Phelan’s lands were up north.”
“When I was hurrying to catch up with him on his way east,” Dorrin said, “I had, as I said, most of a cohort and basic supplies. We knew there’d been trouble. From Vérella to Westbells, where we met Paksenarrion, we were riding in tight formation, moving fast enough I didn’t set a rear guard, but did have assigned flank guards whose job was to watch. Beyond Westbells, Paks often rode out as foreguard. Every time we stopped to rest the horses, there were guards out on all sides.”
“What about in Aarenis?” Beclan asked. “In Siniava’s War, not in peacetime.”
“We always had fore-guards, flank guards, and rear guards. How many depended on how many troops we were moving. A cohort on the march, not mounted, would have mounted scouts, at least a pair on each side, one on the road ahead, one on the road behind.” Dorrin gestured. “If you’re in open country, where the scouts can ride at a distance but see the column clearly, it’s easier. In wooded country, you need people who can operate on their own and not be ambushed themselves.”
“Ambushed,” Gwenno said, in the tone of someone for whom it was a game.
“Yes,” Dorrin said. “Take this country, for instance. It’s Mahieran land and peaceful to look at, but imagine it full of enemies. From the road to the river, how many troops do you think could lie hidden as we went past? This shady block of trees we chose to camp near—how many could be concealed in it, archers or arbalestiers? No ground is completely flat; every fold could have enemies in it—and they feel the same for us.” She looked at the young faces, sober now as they considered what she’d said. She nodded at the Marshal-General. “I’m going to sleep outside tonight, I think, warm as it is, but I’ll take a bucket-wash in my tent first—feel free to use my tent either way, if you will. We’ll each take a watch for a turn of the glass. You squires will be paired with my militia.” She