An eerie quiet began to settle over the ridgetop. Rahl looked back northwest along the ridgeline. Taryl and the headquarters company, as well as the two Triads, continued riding toward Third Company. Another regiment had moved up the slope and was drawn up in formation just above the breached northwestern earthworks.
Why was Taryl exposing himself and the Triads? All that was between him and the rebel mages were Third Company and what remained of Second Regiment.
Drakeyt looked back as well, then at Rahl.
Rahl shrugged. He couldn’t say that he understood, unless Taryl felt that the battle would end up being resolved by an order-chaos struggle with Taryl and the Triads pitted against the rebel mages.
As the headquarters company rode closer, a captain cantered ahead and called out, “The overcommander requests that you move more to the south, covering the flank, Captain!”
“Third Company! Right turn! Ride!” At that moment, Drakeyt’s orders were the loudest sound on the flat of the ridge.
Shortly, the second command rang out. “Third Company! Left turn and halt! Left turn and halt!”
First squad was less than thirty cubits from the south edge of the ridgetop, and the slope to the right was steep enough that it could almost have been called a cliff. No one was going to ride down or across that sheer expanse.
Rahl watched intently as Taryl and the Triads rode past, just behind the first rank of troopers. Once most of the company was passed, he leaned toward Drakeyt. “I need to move up, but keep the company here.”
Drakeyt nodded.
Rahl eased the gelding forward, keeping abreast of the middle of the headquarters company, but remaining close to the south edge of the ridgetop.
Taryl was only slightly less cautious than the commander of Second Regiment. He and the headquarters company reined up a good three hundred cubits from the circular stone redoubt. Rahl moved forward for a few more cubits after Taryl had stopped, then reined up and waited.
Again, near silence dropped over the ridge.
“Hear me!” The words rang out from the redoubt, chaos-boosted, and shivered the air. “Hear your rightful emperor before you destroy yourself with your foolishness.” The man who spoke had to be Golyat. He stood within a space on the northwest side of the redoubt that resembled an archer’s niche, with stone on both sides, and stones piled roughly to waist height. Even from more than two hundred cubits away, by using his order-skills to boost his physical senses, Rahl could see that Golyat was not especially tall, a span less than Rahl. Unlike his younger brother the Emperor, Golyat’s black eyes were not friendly, but portals through which he angrily observed the world. Gray strands streaked his black hair, and heavy frown lines creased his forehead.
“I will not be denied. I am the rightful emperor of Hamor, and a mage, as all emperors of the Cyadoran lineage should be. Unless you yield to me and accept me as emperor, you will discover my power.”
Rahl frowned. He could sense that indeed Golyat was a chaos-mage of sorts, but not a particularly strong one. On the other hand, at least one of the mages within the redoubt was as strong as either of the Triads. That was doubtless Ulmaryt.
Taryl did not step forward, but his voice, quiet and calm, without the thunder, still filled the air. “You are not the rightful emperor, Golyat, and no amount of magery can make that so.”
A line of white chaos-flame issued from the redoubt, burning toward Taryl. Just before it reached the troopers in the rank before him, Taryl diverted it—almost half a kay to the southeast, where it slashed across the front ranks of the massed rebels.
Following that flame, another unseen wave of deaths swept through Rahl.
Two lines of white flame flared toward Taryl, but this time blasts of chaos-flame that moved almost as fast as the white flame flashed from the Triads back at the redoubt. The head-high walls in the rear shook, and several large rough stone oblongs flew from the top of the roofless walls across the structure. One smashed into Golyat, crushing his skull.
No one seemed even to notice.
The chaos-mages on both sides hurled forces back and forth at each other, and Taryl blocked and diverted those forces, sending many of them against the rebel troops. Once more the smoke thickened, as did the acrid and sickly-sweet odors of all manner of burning substances.
Rahl could sense that more than a few of those troopers were slipping away and sliding down the steeper north and south sides of the ridge above the earthworks.
Should he enter the magely battle?
Not yet, something told him as he edged the gelding closer to the headquarters company and to Taryl.
Chaos welled up from the very ground, like a fountain of molten rock, or like the white-hot streams of molten metal from the ironworks at Luba, and a tall figure—Ulmaryt—focused that molten-metal-like chaos into a massive shaft and hurled it toward Taryl.
Taryl staggered as his shields diverted the massive chaos-shaft, and the ground shook as the shaft slammed into the rocky soil between Taryl and the redoubt. Another shaft flew toward Taryl, almost reaching the overcommander before he dropped it into the ground.
For a moment, there was another silence.
Then the twin firebolt shafts of the two Triads ripped into the redoubt—one striking the remaining white wizard behind and beside Ulmaryt, the other hitting a Hamorian chaos-mage. Both the white wizard and the rebel mage-guard collapsed into a pile of ashes.
The next-strongest rebel mage launched a greenish gold chaos sphere at Dhoryk. The Triad’s shields barely held, and chaos splashed over the three troopers nearest him, instantly incinerating all three.
Just after the rebel mage had attempted to strike at Dhoryk, Fieryn had slammed another firebolt shaft into the rebel—killing him.
In all the exchanges of various forms of chaos, three of the weaker rebel mages had been killed as well, Rahl realized, leaving Ulmaryt and one other renegade mage-guard.
Rahl could sense the exhaustion of the former Mage-Guard Overcommander. So did the two Triads, who flung another set of firebolts at the flagging Ulmaryt. At that instant, Taryl struck with an order-bolt.
The combination shattered the shields of the last two rebel mages and turned the interior of the redoubt into a mass of heat and chaos that reminded Rahl of the interior of the iron blast furnaces of Luba.
Rahl caught a sense of…he didn’t know what, but he urged the gelding toward Taryl.
Another chaos-bolt flew toward Taryl—except that chaos had come from Fieryn. Taryl diverted that bolt, as well as the next from Dhoryk.
The troopers of the headquarters company—those that could—spurred their mounts away from the three mages, leading them and their mounts away from all others nearby…except for Rahl.
Rahl managed to rein up and divert Fieryn’s next firebolt back toward the Triad. Fieryn brushed away Rahl’s effort as if it were nothing, slamming the chaos back at Rahl’s shields, and nearly flinging Rahl from the saddle.
Fieryn was far stronger than he was, Rahl realized, and with both Triads against Taryl…What could he do?
He blocked another near-incidental chaos-blast that nearly shivered his own shields.
Think! He had to think. There was no way he could breach Fieryn’s shields. The Triad was far too strong, and Rahl knew that one order-bolt wouldn’t be enough, and he could only cast one against a mage like the Triad.
He couldn’t get through the other’s shields. He couldn’t…
Rahl would have grinned had he not been so busy fending off stray chaos from both Dhoryk’s and Fieryn’s attacks on Taryl…who was clearly feeling the strain. He didn’t have to get inside Fieryn’s shields to strike.
He immediately began to probe for any sort of rock beneath the Triad’s feet. Sweat was pouring down his face from the effort of fending off Fieryn’s incidental attacks and from his own searching, but he had found what he needed.
He began to order-move parts of the rock, and then to loosen the order-links…
KRUUMM
MPT!
Even though he’d been expecting the explosion, and had strengthened his shields against it, he found that he’d been thrown to the ground. But so had Fieryn, Dhoryk, and Taryl.
Rahl drew the truncheon and bounded toward Fieryn. The Triad struggled to move, and Rahl could feel the other’s shields beginning to rebuild as he struck with the truncheon, strengthened with order, its force fueled with anger.
The dark oak shattered the Triad’s skull.
Rahl whirled as a chaos-bolt slammed into his shields, staggered at the force, even though it was not so powerful as those thrown by Fieryn.
Taryl still lay stunned on the ground, barely a half shield around him.
Dhoryk smiled, slowly gathering chaos, knowing that Rahl could not break the Triad’s shields.
Rahl threw everything into the last unlinking, just trying to delink anything he could beneath Dhoryk’s feet, stripping order from order, from dirt, from clay, and then from a section of a broken blade.
The late afternoon flared white, and Rahl could hear nothing.
Then, he saw nothing.
XCV
Rahl looked up into the darkness. He was lying on his back, and he thought he saw stars, but then he realized that someone was looking down at him. The face was blurry, but the healer greens and the warmth that flowed into him told him that the healer looking over him was Deybri. He tried to smile…and couldn’t. He could barely move.
“Oh…you’re here…”
Where else would he have been?
Drops of rain fell on his cheeks, except that they weren’t raindrops, but teardrops.
“What…happened?” he finally asked.
“It’s all over. The rebels who were left fled or surrendered, and Taryl has already sent battalions to take over Sastak.”
Taryl was well. Rahl breathed easier. That left one other question. “What happened to Dhoryk?”
“He died,” whispered Deybri.
“I killed him, too?”
She shook her head.
“Taryl?”
Rahl could sense the sadness. How could she have done it? “You?”
“He was stunned, but he was going to wake up before you or Taryl did, and he would have killed you both. I couldn’t…I couldn’t lose you again, and…” She shook her head once more. “I couldn’t touch all the chaos in him. It burned too much. So I just…moved the order out of him, enough anyway, that his own chaos killed him.”
“Are…you all right?”
“It helps…to heal, and to see you.”
He could still sense the sadness and unshed tears, and he finally rolled onto his side and sat up, ignoring the dirt and soot on his uniform. He did wipe his hands on his trousers before he reached out and took her hand. What could he say?
“It helps to know you care and understand. I’m glad your shields are down right now.”
Rahl doubted he could have raised a shield if he’d had to.
“I know,” Deybri replied, “but it still helps.”
“Where’s Taryl?”
“He recovered sooner than you did. He was just knocked out. You used almost every last bit of order and strength you had against the Triads.”
What else could he have done? He’d just been trying to keep them from killing Taryl.
Rahl slowly stood, and Deybri rose from her knees as well. Rahl squeezed her hand.
“I need to go.”
“Now?”
Before Deybri could say more, someone else came forward, leading a mount. In the darkness, Rahl made out Drakeyt, leading Rahl’s gelding.
“Glad to see you on your feet, Majer. We got here as fast as we could, but without the healer…”
Drakeyt didn’t say more, but he didn’t have to.
“I’m glad you were here.” Rahl stepped forward and just held on to the edge of the saddle for several moments.
“You took out both Triads, didn’t you?” asked the captain.
Rahl could sense the restrained awe and fear and started to say that he hadn’t done it all alone, but he caught the sense of pleading from Deybri. “I took out Triad Fieryn…and Dhoryk. I didn’t want to, but they wanted to kill the overcommander and replace the Emperor.”
“I wondered about that when they turned on the overcommander at the end.”
“Rahl…others need me,” murmured Deybri.
Rahl looked to her. “You’re leaving?”
“Just for now. You’ll be fine, and there are so many others…”
“Could I help?” He didn’t want to leave her.
“Rahl…you have so little order…please don’t even think about that, not for days.”
Rahl could sense the stark fear behind her words. Drakeyt’s words had suggested he’d been in danger, but had he come that close to dying?
“Yes.”
Rahl swallowed. “Please…don’t do more than you can.” He knew he was pleading, but he also understood what she needed to do now, what she had to do. At least, she could heal, to atone for what she—and mostly he—had done.
“I won’t. I’ll see you later. I promise.”
Rahl slowly climbed into the saddle. He had to leave it to Drakeyt as to where they were going. He was so tired he could sense nothing.
He glanced back once he was mounted, but Deybri was already moving away, her stride purposeful, but he was glad to see the two troopers flanking her. He wished he could have been one of them.
XCVI
In the late afternoon of fourday, Rahl walked along the polished white-marble floors of Golyat’s mansion in Sastak. Taryl had taken over the mansion as a temporary headquarters, while he and Commander Muyr organized the return of the port city to Imperial control and arranged for the sea transport of the High Command troopers to Swartheld…and then to Cigoerne, or to wherever their previous station had been.
Rahl hadn’t seen Taryl since the afternoon before, when he and the overcommander had fought Golyat and Ulmaryt—and the two Triads. Nor had he seen Deybri since the night before.
Taryl had sent an undercaptain to find Rahl, and it had taken the officer half a day in the chaos and confusion to run down Third Company. Still…Rahl wasn’t all that sure he wanted to see Taryl. What if he had misjudged the situation, and Taryl could have handled it without his ill-advised attempts to help? Had he just made matters worse?
The undercaptain outside the study door bolted to his feet. “He said for you to go right in, ser.”
Rahl didn’t have to be reminded to close the door. He didn’t want anyone overhearing what Taryl had to say.
The overcommander sat at a broad table desk with neat stacks of paper set around him in a nearly perfect semicircle. The double doors to the balcony to the left were open, and a gentle breeze cooled the study.
Taryl looked up. His bloodshot eyes were set in deep black circles, but his shields were as tight as ever, and his first words did not offer Rahl any great comfort. “As usual, Rahl, you did the right thing in the wrong way, and someone had to clean up after you.” Then the angular and stern-faced mage-guard smiled warmly. “And I’m very glad that you and Deybri were there. Without the two of you, Hamor would be in sad straits indeed.”
“I did my best, ser.” Rahl swallowed. “Without Deybri…it wouldn’t have been enough.”
Taryl nodded. “I’m glad to see that you recognize that. But, without your efforts, hers would not have been possible.”
“Fieryn and Dhoryk were conspiring to remove the Emperor, weren’t they?” Rahl looked at Taryl, hoping to change the subject.
The older mage-guard nodded again.
“That means…” Rahl paused. “Jubyl, he couldn’t have been part of it. If he had been…”
“Why do you say that?” Taryl’s tone was almost idle. Almost.
“If all the Triad agreed, then why would they have needed a rebellion? They could have removed Golyat without fighting.”
“Could they? Was that the reason for the revolt?”
What could
else could have been the reason? Rahl knew Taryl was testing him in yet another way. What else would make sense? Then he thought about Captain Gheryk, Regional Commander Chaslyk, the regional commander in Matlana…
“They wanted a revolt in order to conceal their removal of mage-guards loyal to the Emperor?”
“Who could prove that?” asked Taryl. “But yes, that fitted into their plans.”
“Couldn’t you have…?”
“How?”
Rahl understood, then. “You ran the whole campaign in a way that drew the two Triads here because you couldn’t have checked every regional officer—not in time—and not without alerting them, and you hoped that you could do something against them when they acted against you. And if you hadn’t succeeded, they would have named Cyphryt to replace Jubyl.”
“Possibly. Or perhaps Welleyn.”
“Not the Mage-Guard Overcommander?”
“That has always been almost a ceremonial post, and Kurtweyl was loyal to…the Emperor.” Taryl smiled, still tiredly. “When he wasn’t involved in his musical compositions.”
“What happens now, ser?”
“That is up to the Emperor and the new Triads.”
Once again, Taryl was not really answering the questions, and Rahl still wasn’t thinking as clearly as he would have liked as he asked, “Who will be the Regional Administrator for Merowey?”
“That hasn’t been decided, but I’m certain it will be some cousin of Mythalt’s.”
“After all this? They wouldn’t consider you?”
“Mage-guards are never permanent regional administrators. The position will be filled with a pleasant man with the proper connections who understands fully that, when in doubt, he is to ask the Mage-Guard Overcommander of Merowey for advice, and who will understand that he is never to cross his regional overcommander. Who that administrator will be is not for either of us to say.”
With the firmness of Taryl’s tone, Rahl decided not to press that issue.
“What about Deybri?” Taryl asked, almost idly, although Rahl doubted that there was anything idle at all about the question, since Taryl’s shields hid whatever the older mage might be feeling.
Mage-Guard of Hamor Page 69