L. Modesitt - Ordermaster

Kharl noted that Osten had yet to refer to his brother by name. “He didn’t. That way, the emperor-″

“The white demon can claim that he only supplied a few wizards and some training to the men of the would-be usurper. That is so like Hamor. Be that as it may, what great aid do you offer us?”

“The hills to the west are not at all that high, and the slopes are gentle. That is where the white wizards are. If they were not there, you could take the hills and flank … the usurper. Then he and his men would be trapped against the ridge and the marshy ground.”

“You want me to send men against the wizards?” Osten’s voice turned scornful.

“No. I intend to deal with the wizards-with the two squads of lancers you loaned me, of course. We’ll circle behind them and attack them fromthe west. From what you’ve said, and from their positions, they expect you to attack. They plan to use the wizards to kill as many lancers as possible before you can reach them.” Kharl smiled politely. “What I suggest is that you ready your men for such an attack, and take a great deal of time doing it. When I have dealt with the white wizards, you take the hills to the west and begin to encircle them.”

“What about the rifles?”

“They’ll go when the white wizards do.” If I am successful.

“Pardon me, ser mage. What happens if you are not successful?” Osten’s voice was cold.

“You have lost nothing but two squads of lancers, and your enemy is that much weaker,” Kharl pointed out. “You hazard little. From where his forces are set, he cannot attack quickly.”

“When will you begin your attack?”

“When we get there,” Kharl said flatly. “You will see chaos-fire and much else.”

Osten offered an excessive half bow from the saddle. “We await your efforts, Lord Kharl.”

“Thank you, Lord Osten.” With a smile he did not feel, Kharl turned his mount, his shields ready for any treachery, although he did not believe such an attempt would come until later.

As he rode back northward to his own small detachment, when he passed the last rank of lancers, he infused a small mass of order into the saddlebags of one of the lancers. When he later cloaked his own order, he hoped that the white wizards would perceive the order in the saddlebags as him-or as his failure to shield himself adequately.

Even so, Kharl couldn′t help but wonder what new tactics the white mages with Egen might try. He had no real idea, but he did know that almost every time he had faced one of the Hamorian mages, they had done something he had not anticipated. That might also reflect his own lack of training and experience. From what Whetorak had revealed, Hamor trained its envoys extensively, and Kharl would have been surprised if its mages had not also had some type of instruction. He could have used some of that himself, rather than having to discover everything by trial and error.

He snorted quietly. That blade had two edges. On the one edge, he’d had to learn late things others had known early. On the other, he’d discovered techniques no one else seemed to know.

Kharl rode directly to the subofficer in charge of the two lancer squads accompanying him. “Serjeant.”

“Yes, ser?”

“We’re going to be heading west from here. We’re breaking off, and we’ll be circling around.”

“Ser?”

“The white wizards are on high ground ahead to the west of the road. We’ll be attacking them …” He paused. “I’ll be attacking them, and you’ll be there to make sure that someone doesn’t send a squad or something at me. Also, with two squads, we’ll look more like a scouting party, and they won’t think so much about it. You ride with me, and we’ll lead the way.”

“Ah … yes, ser.”

Kharl looked past the serjeant to his own undercaptain.

Demyst nodded, although his face carried a worried expression that was not quite a frown.

After raising the shield to cloak his own order, Kharl eased the chestnut gelding back onto the shoulder of the road, then over a soggy depression into a field that looked to hold some sort of beans. At the western end of the field, there was a lane that wound to the southwest. That was the general direction they needed to go.

As he and the serjeant rode down the rows of the bean field, Kharl was conscious of the words of the lancers who followed Demyst, Erdyl, Jeka, and Alynar.

“One mage … and he’s gonna take on the white devils?”

“You see what he did already? Nothing but rocks …”

“Rocks aren’t wizards …”

Kharl was well aware of that. He turned in the saddle and managed to get out some of the bread and cheese that he had taken from the residence, knowing he would need it. He managed several bites before they reached the lane-barely wide enough for two mounts abreast.

“How far, ser, before we reach the wizards?”

“They’re about two kays over there”-Kharl pointed south-southeast-“but the way we’re going is more like three or three and a half. Lord Osten will be slowing his advance and preparing. He won’t attack until we’re done.”

“We’re not going to charge the wizards, now, are we?”

“Not all the way. Just to get me close enough to deal with them.” And that was far closer than Kharl wanted to be.

Although there were cottages and sheds amid the meadows and fields, Kharl saw not a single soul. That was scarcely surprising, not with a long column of lancers and armsmen visible on the south road stretching back toward Brysta.

After less than a kay, the lane turned westward and downhill, arrowing straight west toward the seacoast cliffs and ridges. Once more Kharl turned off the lane, this time across a meadow toward another set of hedgerows.

A good glass later, he reined up on a low rise, one roughly half a kay to the south of the rise where the white wizards and the mounted “patrollers” waited, although from where he was, Kharl could only see the southernmost of them. He looked more to the northeast, out onto the lower ground. Egen’s regular lancers held the flat to the north of the barracks area. Two hastily constructed lines of angled and sharpened posts blocked the road and ran a good ten rods to either side, while mixed companies of foot patrollers and armsmen were drawn up in formation behind the posts.

Kharl looked back to the north. He thought there were four wizards, but he wasn’t about to probe to find out. That would only reveal where he was. He turned. “Follow me.”

He started the gelding down the slope, mostly grassy, but with some scattered bushes, and a handful of isolated blue oaks.

They had ridden no more than a few hundred cubits down toward the swale between the two hills that were little more than large rises, when the serjeant cleared his throat loudly. “Ser … looks like some of those patrollers might be breaking off, heading toward us.”

“We’ll ride through the swale toward that pair of low oaks on the lower part of the slope there, above that woodlot.”

“Ser …?”

“The woodlot is right below. They’d have to break formation to follow us through the trees, wouldn’t they?”

“Yes, ser … but …″

“We aren’t going to do that, but I want them to think that. I need to get closer to the wizards.” Kharl eased the gelding into a trot, trying not to bounce too much in the saddle.

The others followed.

Kharl kept checking the hillside to the north as he rode across the grassy swale between the two rises.

Once he started up the other side, where the slope of the grassy riseblocked sight of the main patroller force and the other white wizards, Kharl turned the gelding more to the northeast and began to angle up the side of the larger rise that the patrollers were riding down. The patrollers were riding far faster.