L. Modesitt - Mage-Guard of Hamor

"Eating, at a time like this?" asked Drakeyt.

"I don't keep eating," replied Rahl through mouthfuls of very stale and exceeding dry biscuits, "and I can't keep using order."

"Is that true of all mages?"

"So far as I know, but I don't know for sure about the white wizards of Fairhaven."

Drakeyt nodded slowly. "That explains a lot."

Rahl was about to ask what it explained when another wave of lancers, seemingly as numerous as those in the charge that had opened the battle for Selyma, rode over the crest of the hill and started down toward the Imperial forces.

Another flight of arrows rose toward the lancers, but this time a wall of chaos-flame flared downhill, incinerating the majority of the shafts before they could reach their targets. A second wave of arrows, larger than the first, followed. Only two chaos-bolts flew toward the arrows, and one missed completely but fell toward the center of the Imperial force, where it was smothered by an order shield, possibly projected by Taryl.

Rahl nodded as the second flight of arrows dropped amid the lancers. He could see the tactics being used by Taryl-or Commander Muyr. As the lancers struggled to regain order, four companies of mounted troopers charged uphill into the mass of rebels.

"Companies! Forward!" came the orders.

"Third Company! Forward!" repeated Drakeyt.

Using the Imperial charge as a form of cover, the remainder of the force advanced uphill at a measured ride so that the rebel chaos-mages could not fling chaos-flame indiscriminately without inflicting even greater casualties on their own lancers.

By the time the lancers broke free and withdrew, it was clear that the majority of the most recent casualties were among the lancers, and the Imperial forces were a good third of the way up the slope in good order.

At that moment, thunder rumbled over the hillside. Then, a light misting rain began to drift downward.

"Companies! Forward!"

"Third Company! Forward!"

A single weak firebolt arched from the hilltop and flared into insignificance before reaching the advancing Imperial force.

From behind the earthworks came another group of mounted rebels in their maroon jackets-troopers with sabres, riding hard down toward the Imperial forces. One rebel company immediately swung eastward and broke toward Third Company.

Rahl drew his truncheon, then leaned toward Drakeyt. "I'll try to stop them for just a moment." He looked at the troopers in maroon, close to a twenty-man front rushing downhill with glittering sabres.

Rahl waited… and waited, then formed a quick shield but, against the weight and speed of the charging rebels, could only hold it long enough to stagger the first rank to a stop. The effort threw him back in the saddle and even halted the gelding. The rest of the company had already begun to cut into the stunned rebels.

That momentary advantage afforded Third Company faded as the following ranks of rebel troopers rode into the melee.

Rahl found himself with three rebels all trying to attack him, but he managed to stiffen his personal shields enough to deflect one slash that would have taken off his shoulder, then thrust the truncheon into the ribs of the second attacker with enough force-if order-boosted-to crack something and topple the trooper out of the saddle. His half parry, half thrust against the next rebel staggered the man enough that one of his troopers finished the man with a cut to the throat.

After that, Rahl lost track as he tried to keep himself in one piece while inflicting what damage he could without totally overextending himself. He had no idea if he'd been effective in reducing the number of rebels or if he'd just managed to survive.

Then, as the rebel troopers withdrew to regroup, a wedge of lancers appeared-coming around the side of the hill above the slope up from the highway-charging directly at the exposed flank of Third Company. Rahl turned in the saddle, then urged the gelding toward fifth squad, where the lancers would strike.

Two chaos-bolts preceded the lancers, and Rahl had to struggle to deflect them.

He barely managed to regain his composure and to focus his concentration on the oncoming lancers before they overran fifth squad and Third Company. As he'd done before, Rahl waited until the tips of the lancers' weapons were almost ready to strike before throwing up a shield broad enough to stop the lancers. Although he only held the shield briefly, three ranks of lancers piled into each other, and Lyrn and fifth squad immediately began attacking the tangled and fallen rebel lancers.

At that moment, Rahl could sense more chaos-bolts arcing toward him and Third Company, and he hastily threw up a shield.

Chaos flared around him, and light-knives stabbed at his eyes so fiercely he could hardly see. When he tried to shake his head to clear his vision, the pain was so great that his eyes watered, and he could see nothing at all.

In desperation, he tried to strengthen his personal shields, since he could see nothing.

He felt a lance slam into his shields, and he knew that the shields had held-but his seat on the gelding had not, and he could feel himself flying backward with such force that his boots yanked clear of the stirrups.

Then a wall of black stones fell on him and buried him.

Rahl woke to find himself lying on his back. Knife-flashes of light seared across his eyes. In between those light-knives he could see, dimly, two low ceilings. He closed one eye. It helped a little-one of the plank ceilings faded, but didn't go away.

"Majer… you awake there?"

Rahl tried to speak, but his throat was so dry that he could barely croak, "Yes… mostly." He turned his head slowly, very slowly. He was lying on a lumpy pallet set on the floor. Two images of a trooper with a bound arm sat on a stool beside him, looking down at him.

Rahl slowly rolled into a sitting position, then took the water bottle that had been set beside the pallet. After several swallows, he spoke again. "What day is it? Where am I?"

"It's still eightday, ser, a little before sunset. Well… it'd be about then, except for the clouds. This here's a shed. Mighta held sheep, 'cepting the rebs herded 'em all off afore we got here."

"What happened?"

"We're still at the bottom of the hill, and the rebs are at the top, but they lost a lot more 'n we have. I guess that means we're winning."

"What about First Army?"

"Same thing, except they got farther up their hill. Lost more troopers, too."

Rahl took another swallow of water, thinking… or trying to.

A thin officer stepped into the shed-or rather two images of him did, and it took Rahl a moment to recognize Taryl, what with the two images and the light-knives that occluded his vision.

"Ser…" Rahl began.

Taryl looked at the trooper, who immediately left the shed, closing the door hastily. He surveyed Rahl with eyes and order-senses, then nodded. After a moment, he spoke. "I hope you realize that the only reason you're alive is because you're a mage-guard." Taryl's voice was dry and contained an edge of irritation.

Rahl understood that. Without his shields-

"No. It's not that. You got yourself unhorsed in the middle of a battle, and several troopers were injured, and one was killed, recovering you. They don't care about Rahl, the person. The reason they went after you is the same reason a trooper goes after a sabre knocked from his hand. You're a weapon. But you do that again, and they might not choose to see if you're alive, especially if there are chaos-bolts falling all around."

Rahl wanted to wince, but even the thought sent light-knives slashing through the twin images that shifted in front of him.

"For a time your actions were solid, but then, when you rode out to stop that lancer attack… that was another example of foolhardiness. Rahl… you could have done the same thing without drawing attention to yourself. Why didn't you?" Taryl didn't wait for a response, but went on. "Golyat's mages knew you were somewhere near Third Company, and the lancer attack was an attempt to draw you out and wear you down, then kill you and force us to retreat."