That would have been a mighty trick, and the exact sort of thing that the likes of Tiberius could have cultivated after all his years in prison, and then let loose for the first time on the battlefield. None would have seen it before, and at the very least, he was likely to inflict damage from it.
Somehow, that didn't seem to be right, however. The way those horses strode, as they impatiently pawed at the ground, waiting for the next orders to move after the bloodthirsty display that they'd been allowed, they could not fail to disguise the weight in which they bore.
"Was the trick then, in the visual?" Blackwell wondered. "Did the trick come before the charge?"
