They’ve begun to stiffen on their right,” one of Mogaba’s companions announced. “But they’re falling back on the other wing.”
“There’s something wrong,” Mogaba declared. “There should be more of them.”
“Why don’t we rush them?”
“Do sound a general advance. But at the slow cadence.”
The first confused message arrived just minutes later. Narenda Nath Saraswati’s division was on the run. Saraswati himself was dead. Most of the division officers had been captured or killed.
Before he could make sense of it, Mogaba heard the horns on his right and saw the different colored blocks, every soldier with his own banner on his back, advancing. A flurry of cavalrymen swept stragglers, and fugitives, and foolish resistance out of the infantry’s path.
The Great General needed only a moment to understand that Sleepy was about to kidney-punch the Second Territorial with her best. “Full attack!” he ordered. “Fastest cadence!” If he got the soldiers moving forward before they recognized their peril he could use his numbers to overcome. “The little witch finally caught me.” But there was still Aridatha, moving in behind. It remained to be seen who would have whom in the end.
Mogaba drove straight toward the enemy camp. If he could get inside its palisade . . .