At the Queen_s command

In accord with the experimentation the Prince had been conducting through the spring, a second assembly had been fitted snuggly to the saddles, forward of them. It consisted of a steel post a foot and a half high, with a semicircular bar fixed to it by four spokes. The semicircle and spokes lay parallel to the ground. A six inch spike rose in the center of the arc.

A one-pound swivel-gun had been mounted on the post, secured with a water-tight leather sheath and cork plug. The ramrod had been fitted with a gimbaled guide, so it couldn't go missing in the heat of the battle. The center spike prevented the cannon being fired straight forward-hence the rear gunner could not shoot the rider, and the rider could not shoot Mugwump. Oilskin saddle-bags before and behind the rider's legs contained premeasured charges and rounds for the guns.

The Prince hauled himself into the saddle. "Baker, find Colonel Daunt. Tell him to charge the high fort on my signal."

The wurmwright gaped up at him. "Signal, Highness?"

"He'll know it. Go."

Vlad turned in the saddle and smiled at von Metternin. "Use the spike to gash the charges when you reload. It's all grape, and designed to kill pasmortes."

Von Metternin laughed. "This is not stupid, Highness, it is spectacularly stupid."

"Only if we die, my lord." Vlad smiled and touched Mugwump's flank with his heel. "We're off to save Mystrians. The devil can take all else!"

By the time the Private returned, the battle had deteriorated. The Mystrians had stalled on the left flank. One battalion had been trapped near the hill's summit. Whenever a squad tried to advance, cannon blew them to pieces. The survivors hunkered down, unaware that once the Tharyngian cannon had finished with the Fourth Foot and smoke had thinned enough for gunners to aim, it would rake their flank and clear them off the hillside.

More firing came from the right, sporadic but steady. Owen couldn't make any sense of the noise. The smoke drifting up from the battlefield made seeing anything difficult.

In the Norillian center, the Second company had pushed forward and had actually reached the walls. The Third slid right, breaking contact with the Mystrians, to follow the Second through the forest of spikes. Bridging went over the trenches. Siege ladders leaned against walls. Soldiers started to climb, and then the Platine Regiment mounted the battlements. With deadly precision they opened fire. Musket balls blasted men from the ladders. Bayonets stabbed down. Norillian gunfire slew Ryngians-several bodies hung lifeless from the top of the palisade wall, but far more Redcoats fell.

Then Owen saw it, on the right. "There, Tharyngian troops mustering at the corner."

Unstone looked toward Rivendell. "His lordship is gone, sir."

"What?" Owen turned just in time to see Langford disappearing into Rivendell's tent. "Sergeant, send a man back down there."

"Won't do no good, sir. Smoke. He can't see a thing."

Owen grabbed Unstone's lapels. "Then we have to do it, Sergeant. We have to get the reserve battalion over there."

"Sir, I can't give those orders." The Sergeant shook his head adamantly. "It's not my place. I will be court-martialed and shot."

"Listen to me. All of you." Owen looked at the entire squad. "It's your friends who are going to die, and you know damned well that Rivendell couldn't care less. Do you think they will survive if we don't act?"

Unstone glanced at his feet. "We won't survive if we do."

"I'd rather die saving friends than live watching them die." Owen shoved the man away and started off down the hill. "Shoot me for escaping, or come with me and be a hero. Your choice. Me, I'm going to kill some Ryngians."

Mugwump charged from the wurmrest, then paused on the crest of the hill. His head came up and nostril slits flared. He turned, looking back at the Prince. Vlad could have sworn great intelligence burned in that golden eye.

The Prince nodded. "Yes, it's into that Hell we're going. Plenty of pasmortes. All you care to eat."

The wurm blinked slowly, then loped down the hill as cannons boomed. They rode down into a cloud of gunsmoke, then appeared in the valley as if conjured. Soldiers who had been pulling back stopped. Mugwump curled his tail around to corral a few more.

The Prince looked down at astonished faces. "Done already? By God, I've just gotten to the fight."

Mystrians stood there, dumbfounded, not even bothering to duck when another cannon roared. One man pointed back up the hill. "Highness, you can't go up there. You'll be killed!"

"I'm not abandoning the Third!" Vlad pointed at the fortress. "I'll meet you at the top!"

The man who'd spoken stared at him as if he was mad, but another man raised his musket and shouted. "To the top! To the top." Mugwump roared and more men took up the cry. "To the top! To the top!"

Vlad pumped a fist into the air. "To the top!"

The men turned, heading back toward the battle. Vlad tugged on the left rein. Mugwump looked back as if to ask, "Are you serious?"

"We're meeting them at the top."