lastkingsamazon by Chris Northern Page A

see what they did next.
    The sound of a horse pounding up the hill behind us, all powerful breaths and drumming hooves, did not distract either of us from our vigil. In the distance we could hear the march of the army, dull pounding of boots on stone.
    After a brief consultation two men broke away from the armed band and began to move our way. They set a medium pace, purposeful but not hurried.
    “ They mean to talk.”
    I shrugged. “If they have the password, all well and good.”
    Our man joined us. He took in the situation but said nothing. I could hear more horses coming our way and now an occasional cry as orders began to be passed through the main army. I loosened my sword in its scabbard, making sure it would free cleanly at need, though I intended that we withdraw if the band moved our way. There would be only nineteen of us, assuming all my command had reached me. I resisted the urge to glance back; the rest of the tactical situation wasn't my business right now. Even if there were other units closing in, these hundred men in front of me were what I had to deal with one way or another.
    When the next pair joined us I instructed them to hold this position unless threatened and passed control of the whole group to Yebratt. Taking one man with me I went to meet the two soldiers who were making their way forward. A hundred yards has never seemed like such a distance. As they had started moving first we arrived at a position where we were close enough to hail each other at about the mid way mark and here I halted and called out to them to identify themselves.
    “ Rastrian Bacht, bringing my unit to Tulian Dural Verrans at his order.”
    “ Give me the password.”
    “ Raspberries!”
    I felt a chill in my stomach. “Say again!”
    He raised his voice. “Raspberries!”
    We were close, maybe only thirty feet between us. The rest of his band hadn't moved. They looked pretty relaxed. They were not in formation, but spread out and clustered as they saw fit. Quite a few of them weren't even looking our way. I made a decision and acted on it at once, kicking loose of my stirrups, I slid down to the ground and tossed the reins to my companion. “Don't do a damn thing unless I head back at a run.”
    Rastrian Bacht was watching me. He knew something was wrong, maybe from the worried look on my companion's face. He stood with his hands ostentatiously away from his weapons and then began to move forward as I did. I watched his face as we closed the distance between us. Puzzled but hiding it, wary but relaxed. By his dress and armor he was not a man of the city. The short sword at his side was curved with the blade on the inside of the curve, a chopping weapon, not the straight blades or sabers we favor. His dark hair was bound back with a leather thong and he wore no helmet and carried no shield. I could see the others were more or less the same, no two identical. They were foreign mercenaries for certain. We stopped walking at a comfortable distance, close enough so that we didn't have to raise our voices.
    “ That is not the password I have, Rastrian Bacht.”
    He didn't look too concerned. “I guessed something was wrong. This is the twelfth, isn't it?”
    “ I think we can agree on that.”
    “ So yesterday's password was Thistle.”
    I didn't concede the point. “The fact remains that your password is incorrect, so I can't let you pass right now, Rastrian Bacht. Still, I'm guessing there has just been a cock-up here and that you are expected, so let's you and me go down to the main army and you can present yourself to Tulian Verrans; if he knows you, all well and good.”
    “ There's quite a force gathering at your back.”
    “ I can see your men starting to pay attention. Best reassure them or this could get ugly.”
    He turned at once and called to his men. “Stand easy, lads!” He turned back to me. “Your turn.”
    I turned and saw that thirty riders were bunched at the top of the rise, with more arriving