“Yes, ser.”
“Company! Forward!”
Obviously, the various company senior squad leaders kept in touch with each other, because Third Company reached the avenue just as Eighteenth Company passed. Third Company swung in behind, and both halted on the wide main street, Eighteenth Company just short of the causeway approaching the bridge.
Just before the first orange light of the sun seeped out of the east, Eighteenth Company rode onto the arching stone bridge over the Awhut River, then across it and along the avenue that would become the main highway to Dawhut and Kysha once it neared the hills north of Selyma that held the rebel positions. Third Company followed.
The northern portion of Selyma was shuttered and appeared deserted, although Rahl could sense locals hidden in various buildings and dwellings. An unseen miasma of fear hovered over the town, and the impacts of iron horseshoes on the stone pavement were as sharp as the blows of a hammer nailing shut a cheap plank coffin.
Ahead of Eighteenth Company, Rahl could sense some riders, possibly rebel officers, hurrying northward from Selyma in the direction of the two defensive positions.
Just what could he do? That question kept coming back to nag at Rahl as he rode northward and as the orangish light of dawn faded into a cold and clear day under a green-blue sky—the first clear one in more than an eightday.
Before long, he could see their objective all too clearly. The back sides of the hills to the north of Selyma and west of the main road were a welter of earthworks and tents and lean-tos, as opposed to the more orderly stone revetments crowning the top of the hills to the east of the road. Lancers and troopers swarmed across the upper part of both hills, and light glinted off the weapons and armor of the lancers.
Another question struck Rahl. Why had Taryl specified that Third Company take the western flank? Was there something about the western end of the hills? He studied the slope of the hills, then nodded.
“Quarter turn, left!” ordered Drakeyt.
Third Company came to a halt on the flat a good half kay from where the winter-bedraggled grass began to rise. From the south side, the hills looked more like a gentle ridge, and far easier to ride up than the approach from the other side. To Rahl’s right, the flat began to fill with the companies of the Fifth Regiment.
On the hillside, the defenders assembled as well, and a chaos-firebolt arced down toward the center of the Imperial forces, splattering on the flattened grass several hundred cubits short of the middle of the regiment. Rahl watched, keeping his personal shields tight, and waited.
Before long another firebolt soared southward.
Rahl reached out with his order-senses and nudged it downward so that it, too, splattered short of the Imperial troopers.
At that, two firebolts flared toward Rahl.
He found those easier to divert because he didn’t have to extend himself.
Another and stronger firebolt followed, and diverting it took a bit more effort from Rahl. Then, for the moment, there were no more chaos-firebolts as two companies of lancers formed up, clearly aimed at Third Company.
Rahl watched as the lancers dressed their lines, and he tried to see and sense a path that would take the company through the lancers and to the oval earthworks that held at least one mage and presumably the senior officers commanding the rebel forces. Then he edged the gelding over beside Drakeyt.
“Yes, Majer?”
“Captain, can you form the company into a five-front column behind me once the lancers start to charge down at us?”
The slightest hint of a frown crossed the brow of the older officer. “That’s possible.”
“Then do it. The closer everyone is to me, the less danger they face to begin with. We’re going to meet their charge with one of our own, and we’ll be heading through them for the center of their forces—that earthworks oval in the middle of the hillcrest there.” Rahl did not wait for a reply, but rode the gelding into position right in front of third squad.
Once there, he turned in the saddle. “Shemal, we’re going to break the lancers and split the rebels. The captain will be giving the orders once the lancers charge. Keep your squad as close to me as you can until we’re through the lancers. They’ll take fewer casualties that way.”
The squad leader moistened his lips but his voice was steady. “Yes, ser.”
Rahl let his senses pick up the few murmurs behind him.
“…majer’s going to break the lancers open…like to see that…”
“…according to Clynet…you don’t want to see him like that…”
“…close to him…but not too close…”
The rebel lancers continued to dress their lines. Then a series of trumpet triplets rang out, and the lancers began to move, slowly, but gaining speed as they moved down the rise.
Rahl turned in Drakeyt’s direction and raised his truncheon, then called out, “Third Squad! On me!” He urged the gelding forward.
After the slightest hesitation, Shemal echoed the command. “Forward! On the majer!”
While the squad leader might have hesitated, the troopers did not, surging forward and tightening almost into a wedge behind Rahl.
Rahl began to expand his personal shields, slowly, and carefully; and then, at the last moment before the two forces met, Rahl anchored the expanded shield to the mounts of Third Company, so that the shield was a knife-edged wedge pushed forward by the mass of a score of mounts.
Lancers and lances sprayed away from Rahl and third squad.
Just when Third Company broke through the third line of lancers, a firebolt splashed across the shield directly in front of Rahl, momentarily blinding him, but he managed to hold the shield for a moment longer, before letting it collapse just to protect him. Even so, he felt slightly light-headed, but he urged the gelding along the ridgeline toward the earthworks at the center of the rebel forces.
As he had anticipated, Third Company’s charge had caught the rebels off guard, and troopers were trying to turn their mounts to deal with an enemy that had burst through their flank and was already behind the majority of the rebel troopers.
Orders rang out from below on both sides of the hill, and Imperial troopers charged uphill.
Rahl could sense the confusion and consternation among the rebels. He hoped it lasted for a while longer.
A half score of rebel troopers swerved toward Rahl and third squad. Rahl didn’t slow the gelding in the slightest, but angled to the left, then back to the right, using the motion to amplify the cut of the truncheon. The rebel sagged back in his saddle, unable to recover when a trooper behind Rahl struck with his sabre.
Less than a hundred cubits ahead was the edge of the rebel command earthworks, and standing at the edge, by an opening in the heaped turf and earth stood a white wizard, lifting his arm and pointing toward third squad.
Rahl charged the white mage, expanding his shields just as he neared the wizard, trying to throw the firebolt back at the wizard. The shields enfolded the chaos-flame and did just that, flinging it back, but it sheeted around the wizard and into the earthworks, leaving him untouched.
Rahl could sense deaths, maybe a score or more, but he concentrated on putting order into his truncheon as he rode past the wizard and struck downward. The blow was only glancing, but the order pressed by Rahl shattered the mage’s shield. Then the white wizard died, his chaos overwhelmed by order.
After that, Rahl turned the gelding and just tried to do as much damage with the truncheon as he could while staying alive and trusting that the rest of the Imperial forces would continue their attacks and reach him and Third Company.
After following third squad with the rest of the company, Drakeyt had organized the squads into a half circle, backed against the earthworks. Rahl had barely guided Third Company over to the eastern edge of the formation when a wave of mounted troopers rushed them.
Rahl settled in to what he hoped was a routine of parries, slides, blocks, and thrusts.
Below him, he
could sense the Imperial forces moving toward them, but more slowly than he would have liked, because more and more Third Company troopers were suffering wounds, and more than a handful had already died.
Rahl kept the truncheon moving, although he wasn’t certain how he’d managed it, until, as so often seemed to be the case, abruptly the remaining rebels melted away, and he was slumped in his saddle, looking downhill at more fallen men and mounts than he’d ever seen, all too aware of the vast combined emptiness of thousands of deaths.
He just sat there in his saddle, breathing hard, then finally sheathing the truncheon and reminding himself to take several swallows from the water bottle. He glanced at the sun, nearly at midday.
Had the battle taken that long?
Then he turned and rode toward Drakeyt.
“Congratulations, Majer.”
“That belongs to you and your men, Captain.” Rahl could understand the barely concealed bitterness.
“We lost another eighteen men, and sixteen more are wounded. Three of them might not make it.”
“I wish it could have been otherwise.” Rahl still didn’t see what else he could have done.
“Majer.”
Rahl turned to see Taryl reined up some twenty cubits away. He eased the gelding toward the overcommander, careful to avoid several bodies and a dead horse. The odor of blood and worse was growing stronger under the midday sun, even with the cool breeze out of the north. He reined up short of Taryl. “Ser.”
“I believe my orders suggested something less foolhardy.” Taryl’s voice was steady.
Rahl detected no edge or anger.
“You ordered maximum force, ser. I did the best I could.”
The overcommander nodded. “You did what was necessary.” He turned in the saddle toward Drakeyt, who had reined up somewhat farther away. “Captain, you and your men fought well; they fought gallantly and effectively. Their losses also saved hundreds, if not thousands, of casualties. I know that such heavy losses are hard for a company commander, but I wanted you to know what you accomplished.”
Drakeyt glanced at Rahl. “It was the majer’s plan, ser. I—”
“You and your men bled to make it work. A plan is only as good as those who carry it out. I will be recommending gallantry bonuses for the entire company, including payment to any widows. My deepest appreciation, Captain. Thank you.”
“Our duty to the Emperor, ser.”
“For which he is most grateful.” After a moment, Taryl turned to Rahl, but said nothing until Drakeyt had eased his mount away.
“How many casualties today in Third Company, Rahl?”
“Eighteen dead, sixteen wounded, ser.”
“You killed every one of them, you know.”
For a moment, Rahl couldn’t believe what Taryl had said. He just looked at the older mage-guard.
“If you had held back and just let matters develop as they did during the last battle, Third Company might have lost five men, maybe ten.” Taryl paused. “By the way, before we go farther, what you did was right. But…do you know why I’m making this point?”
“To show that everything has a cost?”
“That’s true enough, but you already knew. It’s more than just that.” Taryl coughed several times, then cleared his throat before continuing. “Use of great magery always has disproportionate costs at the time and place where it is used. That’s true of all good weapons as well—they concentrate force. You concentrated force in the way in which you combined magery and Third Company. The cost on the enemy was terrible, but so was the cost for Third Company.” Taryl waited, as if for a response.
Rahl tried to think, but he felt so tired. Finally, he spoke…slowly. “Is that another way of…pointing out that I shouldn’t use magery except as a last resort, when nothing else will work?”
“That’s often true, but not always. Don’t get bound by inflexible rules. That’s where both your former magisters on Recluce and the whites of Fairhaven always get into trouble. Each situation must be judged on its own. Rules are a useful guideline and generally should be heeded, but blindly following them eventually and inevitably leads to disaster.”
“Always judge each situation on its own?”
“That’s true, but then, there’s always the temptation to justify what you want to do as opposed to what should be done. The more power you attain, Rahl, the greater that temptation. Never forget that.”
“No, ser.”
“You need some food and rest, because I’ll need your help for what comes next. There’s no point in killing any more of their troopers and wasting ours. Not here.”
“Ser?”
“We didn’t attack the other hill. That’s where the senior commanders are. We have it surrounded. I have something else in mind, but we need some rest, and I’ll need your help. Just follow me for now.”
“Yes, ser.” Especially after what Taryl had just told him, Rahl couldn’t help wondering just what else Taryl had in mind, but he knew the overcommander wouldn’t say. Rahl just let the gelding follow Taryl’s gray.
LXXIV
After Rahl ate a large and hot meal of tough mutton and boiled potatoes, Taryl ordered him to put his still-damp riding jacket on the back of a chair in front of the fire in the ancient hearth, then lie down on a pallet in the corner of the single bedchamber in the small cottage that served as Taryl’s makeshift headquarters. Rahl was still thinking about protesting that he wasn’t tired when his eyes closed.
When he was next aware, he was walking through a barn where the Third Company troopers—those who were left—kept staring at him when he wasn’t looking at them. But every time he turned to check, everyone smiled or looked away suddenly. Why were they acting that way? What had he done?
Then a voice startled him. “Rahl…it’s time to get up and get to work.”
Taryl’s words jolted Rahl awake, and he realized that he’d been dreaming. Slowly, he sat up, glancing around and seeing that it was still light outside, although he could tell from the angle of the sunlight that it was well past midafternoon.
“There’s some ale on the table there. You need to drink some before we leave,” announced Taryl. “Eat some of the bread, too.”
“Did you get any rest, ser?” Rahl stood and walked to the table, where he picked up the mug Taryl had pointed out and took a long swallow. The dream still bothered him.
“Enough. Not so much as you, but enough.”
Rahl had the feeling that the older mage had gotten some rest, but Taryl still looked tired. “What sort of work, ser?” He broke off a corner of the loaf and ate some, chewing slowly. The bread was stale, and crumbs flaked off.
“While we’ve been resting, Marshal Byrna and First Army have encircled the eastern hill, the one with that stone fortress on top. Some of the rebel companies have surrendered, but the rest are rather defiant. That may have something to do with the fact that there are a few senior officers and several chaos-mages and former mage-guards inside those stone walls.”
“What exactly are we going to do?” Rahl had more of the ale. How could he still be so hungry?
“A version of what you did on the road to Lahenta, except with greater precision and for a far shorter time.” Taryl smiled bleakly. “We’re going to turn the ground beneath the fort into ooze, but only for a very short time. We will create a thin line of order around the hill, and each of us will do half. You’ll be on the southern side, and I’ll be on the north. Once the order-circle is complete, we will begin to delink everything on your side. After a few moments, it will continue on its own.”
Rahl nodded. He remembered that all too well, except that it wouldn’t go outside the order-boundary.
“It will, if you leave it long enough, because it will keep digging down. And you need to keep your shields full at all times.” Taryl paused, and added firmly, “At all times, for the rest of your life—assuming you want to have a long and healthy life.”
Rahl looked quizzically at Taryl. The overcommander c
ouldn’t mean that, could he?
“I do mean it. You’ve already created more enemies in a year than most mage-guards do in a lifetime, and because you’re supporting the Emperor, you’ll make more before this is all over. Your shields are your defense against them.”
Rahl took another swallow of ale, as much to cover his confusion as because he was thirsty. “I understand about the shields…”
“What was Undercaptain Craelyt’s reaction to you?”
“He tried to kill me, but…you, Captain Gheryk, and Jyrolt—Captain Jyrolt, I mean—you have all been most fair….”
“The danger is never from those who are knowledgeable and good, Rahl. It’s always from those who offer a facade of goodness and are not and from those who do evil while honestly believing that their deeds are for a greater good. The first will try to destroy you by catching you unawares, and the second will catch you unawares because they have no idea what they are truly doing. Because they do not, you cannot wait to shield yourself until you perceive their intentions. Your best defense is shields that will keep them from knowing anything.”
Rahl understood that. What he was having a hard time understanding was why anyone would think a mere senior mage-guard presented a threat, especially one so junior as Rahl was. Still…Taryl’s words made sense. Rahl had learned that. He made the immediate effort to tighten his personal shields.
“Good. Now…you know that once the delinking process goes on for a time, everything within the circle will sink. Once the rebel fortifications and forces have sunk out of sight, we will have to restore the links, or before long we will not have a town of Selyma, and the Awhut River will feed an ever-growing swamp. You should know when to begin restoring the links.” Taryl nodded briskly. “Let’s go.”
Rahl reclaimed his riding jacket, which was now dry and warm for the first time in days, and fastened it before following the overcommander out of the small stead dwelling. Rahl’s gelding and Taryl’s mount were tied outside the small cottage. Both had obviously been groomed and fed. The late-afternoon sky was clear and looked colder than the brisk breeze that swirled around Rahl as he mounted.
Mage-Guard of Hamor Page 53