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of confederate soldiers quickly began removing the tree trunks and rocks to open a passage wide enough to allow them to ride through.
    The newcomers were fully armed and armored knights, each equipped with a dagger, a battle sword, and a shield, and three of them carried lances. But where they differed from the Habsburg knights, many of whom lay dead and dying on the ground in front of them, was in their shields and surcoats. All were pure white, and devoid of any heraldic device or emblem, nothing to identify them. Thelack of such a symbol proclaimed to anyone who saw them that these men owed allegiance to no lord or master, and fought for no king. For whatever reason, they were their own men, independent and answerable to no one.
    “The White Knights,” one of the confederates whispered, almost reverently, moving to one side as he did so.
    A confederate officer, virtually indistinguishable from his fellows, stepped forward and bowed before the knights as a mark of respect.
    “It worked exactly as you predicted, my lord,” he said.
    The knight nodded and pointed behind the officer, where two confederate soldiers were holding down a wounded and dismounted knight while a third soldier drove a dagger into his eye socket through the slit in his helmet.
    “That is not permitted,” the knight said. “You may do what you wish with the rank-and-file soldiers, but the nobility are to be accorded special privileges. Their wounds are to be treated, and word sent to their families so that they may be ransomed.”
    The confederate officer glanced behind him, where the same three soldiers were steadily advancing toward another badly injured knight, and shrugged.
    “You explained that to us before, my lord,” he replied, “but we are few in number and so vulnerable, and we believe it important that our enemies receive a very clear message of our intent and determination. We are not interested in ransom. We are only interested in being left alone.”
    The wounded knight screamed once, long and hard,his body bucking and kicking against the restraining hands of the confederate soldiers, as the dagger point was slowly pressed home; then he fell silent.
    The White Knight nodded.
    “As you wish,” he said, his voice betraying something of the emotion he was feeling.
    The Rule by which he and his comrades had lived for so long was absolutely specific: they were forbidden to engage in combat with other Christians, which was why they had taken no direct part in the battle that had just been fought. But at the same time, their order had suffered what many considered to be the ultimate betrayal, cast aside by those for whom they had always fought and for whom so many had died, and in those circumstances most of the precepts of this overriding Rule now seemed almost irrelevant.
    “This is your country, not ours,” he went on, “and no doubt you are better able than us to judge the situation. I merely wished to point out the normal rules of chivalric behavior.”
    “Thank you. And thank you, too, for your guidance and suggestions for the battle today. If we had met the Habsburgs in conflict on open ground, the result would have been very different, and for that we are most grateful.”
    The officer glanced behind him again, where roving teams of confederate soldiers were methodically working their way through the ranks of wounded and disabled soldiers, slaughtering each one as they reached him.
    Over fifteen hundred Habsburg soldiers died that day, and such was the brutality shown by the confederatetroops that many of the retreating infantryman walked into the lake and drowned themselves rather than face the swords and daggers of their victorious foes.
    The confederate officer was quite right: they were sending a message, to the Habsburgs and to everyone else. A clear and unequivocal message.
    “As I said, we owe you our thanks. Your arrival here was indeed fortunately timed. Will you now be continuing your journey?”
    The obvious