You've spent the last several days of marching trapped in thought. Today, Rade expects a pitched battle. He wishes for his enemy to face him. It gives him the greatest chance at a decisive blow. One that could end the war.
Why should you grant him this wish?
You're inspired by the small-unit tactics of The War. Ambushes and counter-ambushes. Such tactics were highly effective on a small scale. So why not scale them up? You have the resources of your entire army.
Rade may survive a single battle. Hell, he might even win. But what about a dozen small battles? How long will his men be able to fight if they grow paranoid of the dark?
Death by a thousand cuts.
You might not destroy Rade's army, but is such a thing even necessary?
There are a few problems with such an unconventional approach, however.
Your untrained levies could prove to be a detriment. The only units capable of sustaining such a rapid pace of warfare would be your more skilled units. Your rangers and light cavalry would be especially useful, but even a sufficiently disciplined retinue could prove beneficial.
You ponder the ramifications of the strategy as you ride by your lines.
There are no tricks this time. No river to separate your forces. No wall to take shelter upon. No marsh to cross.
You can see Rade's army arrayed against you, nine hundred yards away. The rolling plains of the battlefield stretch out ahead of you. Beyond the natural changes in elevation of the terrain, there is no cover. No forest to conceal one's numbers.
Rade has placed his ten thousand, two hundred and fifty infantrymen in a long line, several ranks deep. Nearly six hundred rebel cavalrymen, separated into two equal groups, hold the flanks. Behind, five hundred archers stand at the ready.
It's a standard formation.
No more tricks. Or at the very least, no more obvious ones.
Your own men, six thousand, five hundred in total, are readied against them. You've been pursuing his army for several days now, yet only now does he turn to face you. It sets you on edge.
Why now? Why choose to strike now?
Perhaps he steeled his nerves and got tired of running. Or perhaps he has found the terrain that he believes would be best for him.
You glance over at Darin. His face is grim.
After a few moments, the old warrior speaks. "Well. I's say we's had enough stallin'. 'Bout time we start this, aye?"