L. Modesitt - Arms-Commander

“It might at that,” said Spalkyn.

For several moments, even as Maeldyn sent an armsman forward to notify the scouts, Saryn concentrated on using her senses to get a feel for the land. Finally, she decided to take the two squads on a more circular route to the left of the road-in a northerly circle-so that when they came into view of the Duevekans or the Suthyans, the road would be between them.

Then she rode back to Hryessa again and pulled inside beside the guard captain. “I’m going to take first and fourth squads and leave you with the other four. There is a company over the hillcrest, waiting. Once we hit them with the archers…” Saryn shrugged.

“Do you want us up front, ser?”

“I think not. Let the Lornians take the first charge if there is one. You should be prepared to pull off the lane. The ground to the left is more solid, and there’s more room to maneuver.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, ser.” Hryessa paused. “You don’t want to take another squad?”

“No. I’m going to try not to engage them. Just inflict casualties.”

Hryessa raised her eyebrows.

Saryn laughed. “I’ll only engage them if it looks like we won’t suffer too badly.”

The captain nodded, then turned in the saddle. “First and fourth squads! With the commander. The rest of you, close up!”

Saryn led the two squads away from the lane and the main force, then up the northern edge of the southerly end of the rise, angling their way through the browning knee-high grass and bushes so that they wouldn’t come into view of the other company until they were almost on level ground.

As she had suspected, those waiting were clad in red and gold, and the Suthyans did not move as Saryn’s squads drew nearer. When she judged that her force was slightly over two hundred yards out, she ordered, “Squads, halt!”

She still could see no movement from the Suthyan armsmen.

“Ready bows!”

“Bows ready.”

“Stand by to fire. Target fire!” ordered Saryn.

“Target fire!” repeated Shalya and Klarisa.

The first shafts arched toward the Suthyan company, which still remained in formation. Then the iron-tipped arrows fell, and armsmen began clutching themselves or slumping in their saddles, even as the Westwind archers loosed a second and a third volley.

Four quick fire-bolts flared up, and a good half of the remaining shafts burst into flame, with the arrowheads dropping short of the Suthyans, falling like iron hailstones on the lane and the ground to the south of it.

The entire Suthyan company charged.

“One more shaft! Bows away.”

Two more fire-bolts flared, clearing away some, but not all, of the arrows. Saryn sensed that the last chaos-bolts were not so strong as those before.

Do you charge them…or withdraw?

Somewhere between a quarter and a third of the Suthyan company had fallen or turned from the charge, wounded, and that left the Westwind force outnumbered, but not by much. But the Suthyans had a white wizard.

“Forward! On me!” Saryn drew a blade from the right knee sheath and urged the gelding forward.

As she rode toward the oncoming Suthyans, gathering and weaving order and chaos together, Saryn realized that she was flanked closely by two guards, so close that they were riding almost stirrup to stirrup with her.

When less than a hundred yards separated the two forces, a fire-bolt arched directly toward Saryn. She used the smallest possible moving order-chaos-shield to angle the fire-bolt into the ground, then raised and hurled the short sword at the center of the oncoming Suthyans.

The blade and the order-chaos-knife linked to it cut through three ranks of the red-clad armsmen before striking the shields of the white wizard. The impact created a sideways flare of destruction that turned even more Suthyans into instant torches, and the hapless armsmen flamed into ashes almost before they could scream.

Saryn drew a second blade and released it, aimed directly at the indistinct shape of the wizard-the only remaining mounted figure in the middle of the Suthyan force.

A smaller chaos-reaction blast followed, and the red-coated Suthyan white wizard appeared amid the shower of flame radiating from him. Saryn drew and cast a third blade, smoothing its way with darkness.

The white mage flung up an attempt at a shield, but the black blade sliced through it and buried itself in his chest. A small flare of reddish white instantly consumed the mage and his mount.

“Do you need another blade, Commander?” called the guard to Saryn’s left. “Not yet.” Saryn glanced around, but there were no Suthyans close by, and the two groups of surviving red-coats split by Saryn and the Westwind charge had made no attempt at reforming and were riding toward the gates of the hold.

As the last handful of Suthyans hurried within the western gates, and the gates closed behind them, the first squads of the northern lord-holders appeared, blades out and ready.

Saryn smiled as she saw that Hryessa had moved the Westwind guards up and to the north of the main body, giving Hryessa more freedom to move, and, incidentally, creating the impression of a far larger force. Then she glanced back at the keep. The white-granite walls looked all too imposing for a force that had no siege equipment and couldn’t afford to squander its armsmen and guards. She hoped that Maeldyn and Spalkyn were correct about Henstrenn’s not being able to hunker down behind the walls and wait.

Swinging the gelding back westward, she rode slowly toward the combined forces, letting the two squads close on her. From what she could see and sense, she hadn’t lost any guards-this time. Saryn couldn’t have said why she’d ordered the charge, but she was just happy that it had worked out…and that there was one less white wizard to worry about. She also couldn’t help wondering how many remained…and how powerful they were.

Then she looked back at the keep and the solid granite walls. No matter what the other two lord-holders said, she didn’t see Henstrenn and the Suthyans venturing forth anytime soon.

For nearly a glass, the joint force remained ready for an attack, before withdrawing to a position almost half a kay back from the gates. During the apparent calm, Hryessa dispatched half a squad to recover what they could from the fallen Suthyans, especially good arrow shafts; but as a result of the efforts of the white wizard, the guards returned with only thirty shafts, along with fifteen usable blades and some coins.

Shortly after the scavengers rejoined the Westwind forces, Maeldyn, Spalkyn, Zeldyan, and Saryn rode some fifty yards north of the main body, where Maeldyn reined up just far enough away from the armsmen that the four could discuss matters without being overheard while still keeping an eye on the gates to the holding.

Although the day was warm, a slightly cooler breeze out of the east kept Saryn from drowning in her own perspiration as she waited for one of the others to speak. Her head ached slightly, and every so often a small lightknife-more like a needle-jabbed at her eyes, but compared to how she had felt after earlier fights, what she was experiencing was relatively mild.

“It doesn’t look like they’re raging to attack us.” Spalkyn’s voice was ironic.

“Of course not,” said Zeldyan. “He’s outnumbered, and he’s lost two white wizards. He’ll stay behind stone until something makes him come out.”

“Or until he can persuade the Suthyans to attack, or he gets reinforcements from somewhere,” added Maeldyn. “That won’t happen for a while. He hasn’t tried to sneak out a messenger yet.”

“He will. He’ll offer what ever it takes to get someone else to attack us.” Zeldyan’s words were icy-bitter.