But she seemed unperturbed.
“Hai!” she said fiercely and triumphantly to Duke Rodulf, who had dropped back from his mounted soldiers to consult with her. “Look you, at the banners of Henry’s forces, and tell me what you see.”
From this place in Antonia’s retinue, which marched always at the side of Sabella, Alain surveyed Henry’s army. It seemed vast, unnumberable; he had never seen so many people gathered into one place at one time. He could not even count that high, though he heard Cleric Heribert whisper to Antonia:
“Something less than eight hundred men, and perhaps a third of them mounted.”
Alain recognized the dragon of Saony, but the men assembled under the banner of Saony’s duke were no more in number than those who rode in Count Lavastine’s retinue. The eagle of Fesse flew over a more formidable band of soldiers, many of these mounted. One group of these mounted soldiers was massed tightly around a figure wearing a surcoat of white and gold, royal colors; this person must be Duchess Liutgard. A banner also flew for Avaria, and though Alain glanced to where Agius stood meekly beside Constance, he did not think Agius was paying any particular attention to the banner of his father’s dukedom or to that of the woman his brother had married in his stead. Agius was praying. Constance stood calmly, hand raised almost to her throat but resting lightly on her chest, and her lips moved as she spoke—seemingly to herself—the names of the lords and counts and dukes who rode in Henry’s host.
In the center a huge bold banner of red silk fluttered in the stiff spring breeze. Three animals, stitched in gold thread, were displayed in a column on the banner: an eagle, a dragon, and a lion, the signs of Henry’s authority. Even from this distance Alain thought he recognized the king himself, surrounded by a richly arrayed group of retainers.
The king wore a crested iron helm and mail sleeves, and his chest was protected by a metal breastplate over a mail shirt. He wore also, on his legs, mail to protect his thighs and iron greaves on his calves; indeed, many of the mounted soldiers in his retinue wore such greaves, a sign of their wealth and station. In his left hand the king held a lance, in his right hand nothing, so that he might better grasp his sword when it was needed. The shield hanging from his saddle was of iron, without device or color.
Like the other common soldiers, Alain did not even have a metal helmet much less armor this elaborate. He could only imagine how many sceattas such equipment would cost. Not even Duke Rodulf wore such impressive armor, though certainly he was heavily protected.
It was a formidable army. Only two ducal banners waved in Sabella’s forces: the guivre of Arconia and the stallion of Varingia, but both she and Rodulf had fielded many men, though not as many were mounted or armed as well as Henry’s men.
It seemed a desperate gamble.
“Conrad the Black has not chosen to appear on the field,” said Rodulf to Sabella, squinting at the line of banners and soldiers on the slope above them.
“Conrad plays his own game,” said Sabella. “If he will not support me, then I am just as happy that he chooses not to support Henry either. But don’t you see, Rodulf? Don’t you see what is lacking, there?” She gestured broadly, her arm taking in the entire line of Henry’s army and the banners displayed. “There is no Dragon banner. The red dragon of Saony I see, but there is no black dragon. Henry’s best fighters are not with him on the field!”
Rodulf whistled breath out between his lips. “So are they not. I no longer despair, Sabella.”
“Nor should you ever have despaired. Do you wear your amulet, Rodulf?”
“I do, but—”
“That is all that matters. Return to your men.”
“Where are the Dragons, then? Surely Prince Sanglant has not turned against his father? I never heard before that the boy had the least drop of rebellious blood in him.” He laughed, a little nervous still but obviously resolved to see this fight through to the end. “I often wish my own children were so obedient.”
“Surely you heard me mention that my informants said the Dragons had ridden north, well out of the way, to fight Eika raiders?”
“Ah, of course. Strike at the sheep while the watchdog is out hunting the wolf, eh?” He grimaced, more by way of a grin than a frown. “If the Dragons stood beside Henry on this day, I would judge it wiser to ask forgiveness than to fight. But—”
“But they do not. And now you do not need to make that choice. Go, then.” She made a sign to one of her men-at-arms. He had been expecting the signal, because he turned and rode back toward the train.