Mage-Guard of Hamor

LX

As outlined by Taryl, on fiveday, Third Company scouted the way in advance of Second Army from Lahenta. Well behind Third Company, a long column of troopers-and behind them supply wagons-made their way along the paved main road to Thalye, the road that would eventually carry Second Army to Nubyat-if they could defeat the rebels. This time, Rahl made certain his shields were stronger. He also practiced as much as he could with his new truncheon, trying to get the best feel he could of the weapon and how it handled. Settling into Thalye that night was uneventful.

Well before dawn on sixday, Drakeyt and Rahl led Third Company out of Thalye by a side lane that skirted the hills to the north and east of the town, and then turned southward toward the boglands due south. The grasslands that stretched south of Thalye were more to the southwest. The outriders were only a few hundred cubits ahead, because there were no trees and little cover, and the grass that was usually knee high had been beaten down by winter to calf height in most places.

"It may be an honor to be trusted with protecting the flank," murmured Drakeyt under his breath, "but why do so many honors involve getting up before the sun?"

Rahl just smiled in the deep gloom. His question was different. Why was it that no matter how much he did and learned, it never seemed to be enough for Taryl anymore?

He extended his order-senses, checking the lane ahead, but at least for the next kay, it was empty of anything that could be an enemy threat, although he could sense a wild dog and several large rodents. He could not yet sense the boglands, but there was a vague feeling of what he could only have described as chaotic order ahead and slightly to the east. The air smelled of firesmoke drifting on the light breeze from the south.

Overhead, the stars were beginning to dim as the sky slowly lightened. More to the west, Rahl could make out a few puffy clouds that looked gray but would doubtless turn whiter once the sun rose. He didn't think they heralded rain, but even if they did, they were barely above the horizon and seemingly not moving, suggesting that they would not reach Thayle or Third Company until late in the day, if then.

To his right, in the distance, Rahl thought he could make out points of flickering light. Cookfires? Why hadn't the rebels just taken Thalye and settled in there? Was there something he didn't know? Or Taryl didn't?

"There are a lot of fires out there," Drakeyt said quietly.

"And a lot of rebels."

They rode without speaking for almost a kay, and by then the sky had lightened enough that only the brightest stars remained visible. Rahl had been trying to use his order-senses to determine where the swamp and boggy land began and was getting a strong feeling that the north-easternmost edge was less than half a kay ahead, just beyond the last of the low hills to the east of Third Company. The faint odor of rotting vegetation bolstered his impression.

"The swampy land starts just ahead, less than half a kay," he finally said.

"Can you tell where the part in the middle of it is that we're supposed to watch?"

"Not yet." Rahl could sense movement to the west. "Second Army is beginning to move out of Thalye and into position."

"What about the rebels?"

"I can't tell," Rahl admitted.

After riding almost another kay, Rahl began to get a very uneasy feeling, not because he sensed rebel forces but because he sensed something else entirely.

"We're almost in position," said Drakeyt.

"We've got another problem," Rahl said. "There's a road through the bog. It's not on the maps, but it goes right where the overcommander said the solid land is. It's an older road, and you can't see it from here because the grasses have grown up over the part just east of us." Rahl wasn't certain he would have noted it in full light, but he'd been using his order-senses on the land rather than looking at the vegetation.

"Frig!" muttered Drakeyt. "Odds are that the rebels know it, and if it goes very far, they could be counting on using it."

"They might not. You can't see it easily." Rahl gestured. "You see that tanglevine clump there? The road runs just this side of it."

"It's all grass there."

"That's what I said. But there's no grass covering it a half kay farther east, and I think it swings more to the south."

Drakeyt shook his head. "We're supposed to take a position that will command this rise and the possible way through the bog. That's here." He lifted his left arm and turned in the saddle, raising his voice. "Form up, squads across, first squad to the right, fifth squad to the left."

Quelsyn repeated the orders.

The rise where Third Company had halted was barely that, the top of the gentle slope being barely four cubits above the grasslands to the southwest.

In the early predawn light, Rahl could also see that the so-called grassland held more than the brown-tipped knee-high grasses that predominated. There were bristle bushes-looking like green hummocks from which protruded saw-toothed leaves as long as a man's arm-as well as scattered creosote bushes and the twisted low mounds of tanglevine. Not surprisingly, there were more of the clumps of nastier brush on the eastern end of the flat where Taryl had begun to position the companies of Second Army, and an even greater concentration closer to Third Company.

"Drakeyt… I'd like to take half of fifth squad and ride down that old road a ways. I can't sense anyone for a half kay, but it's harder to sense around swamps and bogs." Rahl also had to figure out what he could do, not just to stop any attackers, but to disable or kill them. He still didn't much care for that part, but any he didn't kill could end up killing him or Drakeyt or the troopers of Third Company and Second Army.

"Might be a good idea. There's no one moving toward us from their side. Not yet. Be careful."

Rahl nodded. That also meant he shouldn't go far enough to get cut off or not to be able to get back if the rebels launched an attack. He rode to the right flank of Third Company and reined up beside Lyrn.

"Squad leader, I need five men to cover me while I'm checking for a possible route for an ambush by the rebels."

Lyrn stiffened slightly. "Yes, ser." He turned. "Astahn, you and the four others in your file go with the majer."

"Yes, ser."

After the five broke out of the squad and lined up in front of Rahl, he spoke quickly. "There's an old road through the swamp. I need to see how far it goes. All you have to do is follow me." He paused. "Unless we get attacked, and then we'll make a strategic withdrawal." He offered the last words sardonically.

Astahn smiled; the others kept straight faces.

"Let's go." Rahl turned the gelding and headed off the rise, nearly due south and toward the grass-covered end of the old road. He had the definite feeling that he needed to learn before the sun rose what might be using the road.

As he rode into the grass that covered the end of the road, he could sense that the road had not just been worn into the ground by use, but that sometime in the past it had been carefully constructed through the swamp. The clay in which the grass grew had been packed over loose stones and gravel sunk into the swampy ground. Over time, either the ancient causeway had sunk or the swamp had risen, because the grass-covered surface was little more than a handspan above the water from which grew marsh grasses, moss, and less appealing plants.

"… how does he know…"

"… don't want to know…"

Rahl smiled tightly at the murmured words of the troopers new to Third Company. After riding a little more than half a kay, he reined up and let his order-senses range farther south.

For a distance of almost a kay, there were only about fifty cubits of solid ground flanking the old road on each side. South of that narrow strip, the road ran through an area at least several hundred cubits wide, but for how far Rahl could not tell. On the north and grass-covered end of the road behind them, but about half a kay south of where Drakeyt had stationed Third Company, the solid ground remained a narrow strip until it reached the grasslands.

The approach that came to Rahl's mind was to see if he could find a way to isolate any rebel lancers or troopers on that narrow stretch. Based on what he had done in the hills, he could certainly turn the northern end into swampy ooze, but once the attackers discovered that, they could just withdraw and ride around the boglands.

Were there any attackers coming?

He pressed his order-senses down the narrow road, trying to focus away from the swampy area that impeded his sensing. After a moment, he nodded. Troopers were riding northward, most definitely, but they were more than a kay away, possibly even farther.

"We need to ride farther south, quickly," he told Astahn.

While they rode at a quick trot, Rahl kept trying to judge just how far away the oncoming rebels might be and how many were in the force. From what he could sense, they were only moving through the gloom at a walk, but there were far more than a single company, possibly even an entire battalion.

Rahl finally reined up after he thought they'd covered another half kay. He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself in the saddle, then concentrated on sensing the causeway just to the south of his small band.

In the end, the best he could do was to use order-delinking on the clay beneath the rock for a section of road some fifty cubits wide and running from one edge of the swamp to the other. Then he just waited, letting the delinking process continue, trying to keep his senses on the advancing rebels.

The sky was markedly lighter when he forced himself to concentrate once more to stop the actual delinking. The ooze-building would still continue, if he'd calculated correctly, but this time Taryl wouldn't be able to fault him for not stopping the process. While it was more a matter of feel as to when the full impact would occur, Rahl believed that the crusty area on top would continue to soften, but it would take the passage of many mounts, a hundred he hoped, before it began to weaken, but the weakening would speed up with each horse and rider. With more time or more mounts, that section of the road and causeway would turn into a particularly awful swamp ooze.

Despite the chill, he was sweating heavily by the time he finished-and he was only half-done. His hands were shaking slightly, and he was light-headed. A swallow of water helped, but only a little. He fumbled some hard ration biscuits from his saddlebags, then turned the gelding.

"We're heading back. They've got troopers headed this way, maybe a whole battalion."

He began to chew on one of the biscuits, taking sips from his water bottle as he rode.

"How'd he know…"

"Mage-guard… notice how polite the captain is to him…"

The biscuits helped. Rahl needed to remember that he needed to eat something after he did strenuous magery. He knew he should, but he often got caught up in what he was doing and forgot.

Rahl decided to set the second ooze-trap about a third of a kay from the edge of the grasslands. Once it became clear to the rebels that the road was a trap, most, if not all of those not ensnared would have to try to make their way through the swamp, and he wanted to make sure that they had a fair amount of swamp to cross, but he also wanted to be able to see where they were headed.

This time he didn't bother with a crusty top. He didn't want anyone passing this section of the causeway without ending up in ooze that seemed bottomless. He was even more light-headed than before. He managed to swallow some water, but he dropped a biscuit into the grass because his hands were unsteady. After eating most of the rest of the travel biscuits in the second pack, his head began to clear, and he rode slowly back toward Third Company.

Rahl had just returned the troopers to fifth squad and reined up beside Drakeyt in the early light when he could see and sense the gathering of lancers to the southwest, their armor and lances glittering orangish in the early light of a sun that had barely cleared the low hills to the east of the swamplands.

"They'll be on us before long," Drakeyt said quietly. "Must be close to twice as many troopers and lancers as we have." Unspoken was the question as to why Taryl was even fighting a battle when the Imperial forces were so outnumbered, and when the marshal's forces had not yet joined Taryl's.

"We'll need to be more effective, then." Rahl knew Taryl had planned something, even if he did not have any idea what that might be, and could only hope that his trust in Taryl was well-founded.

"They're moving in good order. They don't look like raw recruits," replied Drakeyt.

Rahl shifted his weight in the saddle, then fumbled for another pack of biscuits-his last, but he had the feeling he did need to eat more. He had just finished the crumbs of the last biscuit, washed down with a hefty gulp from his water bottle, when a series of high-pitched trumpet calls rang through the air.

Rahl could sense the waves of oncoming lancers. While most of them were aimed at the center of the Imperial line, a smaller concentration had broken off and was headed toward Third Company. "Lancers headed our way." Even as he spoke, he realized the words were stupid. Drakeyt could see that as well as Rahl could.

"Third Company! Weapons ready!" Drakeyt looked to Rahl. "We'll have to let at least some of them through and catch them on the back side."

Rahl concentrated, trying to sense more than the oncoming lancers. "They've got a company of troopers behind them."

"They would. That's experience, and it means we'll have to try something like an angle charge."

Rahl tried to recall exactly what that was from the tactics books he'd read, because it wasn't what it sounded like, or not exactly, and he'd never seen Drakeyt order it in maneuvers. His eyes flickered from one body of lancers to the other while he tried to think of what he could do. He certainly couldn't hold an order shield of any size for long, and what he could hold would barely protect the front of a squad.

Since Third Company was on the left flank, and since the lancers moving toward Rahl and Drakeyt had begun farther to the southeast, the main lancer assault had almost reached the main body, while the secondary attack still had a good quarter kay to go before engaging Third Company. The front rows of the Second Army troopers began to move forward to avoid being sitting swans, and, just as the tips of the lances of those lancers leading the main assault on Second Army were within a few cubits of the Imperial forces, for little more than an instant, a massive shield flared across the middle of the Second Army. That instant was enough to flatten the entire first two ranks of lancers and to ensnare those immediately behind in the confusion of fallen men and mounts.

Rahl froze in the saddle for a moment, stunned at that burst of order-force. That had to have been Taryl. Could he do something similar-throw a wide shield for just an instant?

"I'm going to try to pile up the ones headed toward us, the way the overcommander did," Rahl told Drakeyt, "but that will only tangle the first ranks."

"Then we'll have the end squads pull and attack from the side." Drakeyt cleared his throat. "Third Company! Stand by for flank encirclement! End squads lead! Flank encirclement on my command! On my command!"

Rahl could hear the squad leaders repeating Drakeyt's commands, and he began to gather as much order as he could, trying to pull it from the air itself, forcing himself to wait as the rebel lancers thundered toward the outnumbered Third Company.

In the center of the rebel attack, three lancers angled their mounts closer together, and they and their shimmering lances aimed directly at Rahl. Following Taryl's example, Rahl forced himself to wait, trying to judge just when the right moment would be.

Just as he felt that he would be spitted within moments, Rahl extended his order shield. It lasted long enough to pile up three lines of lancers, and Rahl reeled in the saddle as his effort collapsed even before he could release it.

"Break to encircle! Break to encircle!"

Rahl's entire body felt flushed, and he was light-headed, but he managed to unsheathe his truncheon and follow Drakeyt, who had taken the lead in guiding second squad. He managed to deflect the lance of one of the lancers entangled in the mass of mounts and men as he urged his mount after the captain.

The rebel troopers following the lancers were trying to swing wide when Drakeyt and the first two squads of Third Company slammed into them from the side.

Rahl found himself using the truncheon more to defend himself from wild attacks from the rebels than in attacking in any way. He'd hoped to use his personal order shields, but he'd expended so much order-effort already that even trying to hold them for more than a few moments sent flashes of pain through his skull. As Taryl had pointed out might happen, all he really had was the truncheon, at least until he recovered, but he did feel that he broke bones, now and again. That wasn't his desire; he just kept trying to keep from getting slashed up as he did his best in pushing the attackers back.

From somewhere came another series of trumpet calls, and within moments, Rahl found himself and the gelding almost alone amid scattered groups of Imperial troopers.

"Third Company! Re-form!" Drakeyt's voice cut through the clamor. "On me!"

Rahl straightened in the saddle, then, seeing there were no rebels nearby, sheathed the truncheon, silently thanking Khelra as he did. He studied the grasslands to the south, hoping to see the rebels withdrawing.

They were not, but rather re-forming into a different series of formations.

Rahl urged the gelding back toward Third Company, where he reined up beside Drakeyt, who was waiting for fourth squad to finish repositioning. While he waited, he extended his order-senses toward the swamp, trying not to wince at the pain-filled flashes of light through his eyes and skull.

Even so, he could sense another force approaching-down the old road through the middle of the bogland. Had the flanking lancer attack been a distraction to keep Third Company from noticing the troopers coming up through the ancient causeway in the middle of the swamp?

"We need to move to that old road," Rahl called to Drakeyt. "There are troopers moving up it quickly, and there are enough that if they get past the swamp, they could flank us on both sides."

"Can you pull that blocking magery again?"

"No. But I've already done something else that will push them into the swamp. They'll be struggling through and coming out in small numbers." If at all. "But there are so many that we can't let them get through and regroup."

"What did do you?"

"The road is ooze-trapped, so that once they get on the narrow part, they can't get out except by drowning in the ooze at each end of the road or struggling through the swamp."

"Good." Drakeyt stood in the stirrups. "Third Company! Left turn on fifth squad! Forward!"

Third Company arrived and reined up in formation opposite the center of the unseen old road, the squads beside each other in a line, with a five-man front on each squad.

"How long?" asked Drakeyt, glancing back westward.

"Not long. Any moment, now." Rahl closed his eyes, hoping that would ease the throbbing in his skull.

Rahl watched as the first troopers caught sight of Third Company and the grasslands and urged their mounts forward. He held his breath for a moment. Then the first mounts pitched forward into the ooze beneath the thin crust of the grass-covered upper part of the ancient road. Others followed, and in moments, a churning mass of a score of mounts and riders was struggling and sinking.

Behind them, the advance slowed.

"They'll go to the sides and through the swamp," Drakeyt predicted.

After several moments, individual riders, then squads began to leave the old concealed causeway and make their way through the marsh and pooled stagnant water.

Rahl swallowed as the ugly snout of a small stun-lizard appeared. The nearest rider and mount toppled sideways. Rahl could sense other creatures as well, although he could not see them, all moving through the waters toward the troopers trapped on the road, as well as those trying to continue the attack.

One rebel squad had figured that swimming their mounts through the clearer water might be safer, and that group was already within a few hundred cubits of solid ground. "Over there!" Rahl pointed to Drakeyt.

"First squad! Take the rebels swimming their mounts on the south side!"

"First squad! Forward!" ordered Roryt.

The troopers took station less than fifty cubits from the edge of the swampy area, waiting for the rebels to break free of the water and treacherous ground. Roryt obviously didn't want to lose men to the swamp, a decision Rahl thought most wise, especially after seeing the stun-lizards.

The first group of three rebels saw the waiting Imperials and tried to angle their way southwest-back toward the rebel forces. None of them made it.

Another pair tried to swim their mounts farther away from first squad, but one rider and his mount vanished, and the survivor and his mount lurched out and were picked off by one of Roryt's troopers.

Even so, Rahl could see scores of riders in the water, far more than the creatures and muck of the swamp would be able to stop.

"We've got heavy infantry breaking our way from the main rebel force," Drakeyt said. "You take first and fifth squads and hold the ones coming out of the swamp. We'll cover your back."

Rahl glanced at the swamp, then toward the rebel forces riding northward from the main body of the insurgents. "You'd better take everyone except first squad."

"I'll accept that recommendation." Drakeyt's voice was dry. "Second, third, fourth, and fifth squads. Wheel to the south! On me!"

Rahl turned the gelding toward the section of the swamp to the north of where the ancient road emerged. Before he had ridden fifty cubits, eight troopers from first squad had joined him.

"We'll get 'em, ser!"

They had their sabres out, and, belatedly, Rahl drew the truncheon. In some fashion, for a moment, it caught and twisted the light, and it almost seemed as though a spear of darkness flashed from it toward the rebel trooper struggling to get his mount clear of the swamp.

The trooper spurred his mount forward, trying to escape Rahl, but a clump of thornvine blocked the rebel's way, and he wheeled his mount back toward Rahl, swinging his sabre wildly. Rahl disarmed him with a single blow, then dropped him out of the saddle with a second stroke.

After that, Rahl just found himself trying to disarm or incapacitate any rebel around. He knew there were other troopers from fifth squad around him, somewhere, but none even seemed to get close enough for him to verify that, and it was all he could do, it seemed, just to hold his own against the seemingly endless number of rebels riding out of the swamp.

Sometime around late midmorning-that was what Rahl thought-another set of trumpet calls echoed from somewhere, and there were even more rebels, coming from everywhere.

Rahl managed to call up a last bit of order and give some infusion to the truncheon as he thrust, parried, cut, and just plain slashed.

Then came yet another trumpet call, this one sounding almost panicky, and in moments, or so it seemed, Rahl was sagging in the saddle, alone. He looked around and found himself less than fifty cubits from the edge of the swamp, but somewhat farther southwest along its edge than where he had attacked the first rebel.

Everywhere there were bodies of troopers-mostly rebel troopers-and some were alive, moaning.

Rahl just sat there in the saddle, his sight blurred with sparks and longer flashes of pain searing through his eyes, and most of his muscles aching and so exhausted he felt like he had a hard time breathing.

"Majer… ser?"

He turned in the saddle. The trooper who had reined up wore the sash of a courier. "Yes?"

"The overcommander requests your presence, ser. If you'd follow me

…"

Rahl could sense almost nothing in terms of order or chaos, but there was a reserve in the trooper's voice. "Oh… of course."

He urged the gelding forward beside the courier's mount and rode slowly westward toward where the center of the battle must have been. There was no sign of any rebels, except those lying on the ground, mostly dead or dying, around which the gelding picked his way. The light breeze carried the iron-copper odor of blood everywhere. Even swallowing the last drops from his water bottle did not remove the taste from his mouth.

What had happened? He glanced at the courier, who did not quite meet his eyes. "We were isolated. All of a sudden, the rebels were scrambling to get away."

"You didn't see, ser?"

"No. Third Company was fighting off a bunch of rebel attacks. I didn't have time to look anywhere."

"The captain said…" The courier did not finish his statement.

"Is he all right? I didn't see him. Captain Drakeyt, I mean."

"He had a few gashes, ser. He said he'd be fine."

"What happened?"

"It was all planned. When all the rebels were pushing us back toward the town, Marshal Bynra and First Army hit them from behind. He came around on that old back road. We had the rebels trapped on all sides. Not all that many escaped."

Rahl glanced across the grassland battlefield, seeing as if for the first time all the downed men and mounts, and knowing, as order-depleted as he was, that he was sensing but a fraction of the devastation. Yet it threatened to overwhelm him. He closed his eyes for a moment, but that didn't help.

As he followed the courier, another question crossed Rahl's mind. Why had he seen no chaos-bolts, and no evidence of chaos use by the rebels? The only magery he had seen or sensed had been that used by Taryl and himself.

"There's the overcommander, ser," offered the courier. "If you'd excuse me… there are some dispatches."

"You're excused… and thank you."

The courier nodded and eased his mount away, as if in relief.

What had Rahl done? Had he failed that badly? Did everyone know it? He looked up.

Taryl was still a good fifty cubits from Rahl, but he said something to the senior officers beside him, then rode away from them, slowly making his way toward Rahl, finally reining up.

Rahl did so as well. "You requested my presence, ser?"

"I'm glad to see that you came through this." A faintly ironic smile touched Taryl's lips.

Rahl could see the blackness under the older mage's eyes, eyes that were so bloodshot that they looked pink. "So am I, ser. Things were… somewhat in doubt where we were for some time."

"That was true for all of Second Army. You and Third Company did remarkably well. We'll discuss things tomorrow, after you've had some rest. Convey my appreciation to Captain Drakeyt. You have mine as well." Each of Taryl's words was slow and almost deliberate.

"Yes, ser. I will. Thank you." Rahl realized that Taryl was as exhausted as he was, if not more so.

"Get some rest, Rahl."

"Yes, ser. Perhaps… you should too, ser, as you can."

Taryl nodded, then turned his mount back toward the senior officers.

Rahl began to ride back toward Third Company, Taryl's words still going slowly through his mind. Remarkably well? They'd bottled up an entire battalion and destroyed most of it, and all Taryl had to say was that they'd done remarkably well? Hard as it was for him even to keep his eyes open, Rahl had the feeling that, again, he had not acted as he should have-or perhaps that he had acted as Taryl expected, and that had disappointed the older mage.

Rahl turned and rode back to where he thought Third Company had been, looking one way and another before he finally made out Drakeyt, watching as troopers from Third Company recovered weapons and gear and checked for wounded amid the fallen and the dead.

The captain glanced up as Rahl reined the gelding to a halt.

"The overcommander summoned me," Rahl began. "He asked me to convey his thanks and appreciation for all that you and Third Company did. He said you did remarkably well."

"His thanks and appreciation… We lost another twenty-five men," Drakeyt said slowly. "Seven of them were in first squad. One of them was Roryt. He was a fine squad leader."

"I'm sorry. I did… what I could." What else could Rahl say? He'd used all the order-skills he'd had long before the battle was over, and they'd helped, but they hadn't been enough.

"What you could?" Drakeyt laughed, a sound that was cold and bitter.

Rahl wanted to shrink away.

"You don't know, do you, Majer?"

"Know what?" Rahl could feel the flatness in his voice.

"You and first squad-mostly you-broke a battalion. I sent a trooper out to count. Around where you were fighting, there were fifty men down. Fifty. Some are still alive. None of them will ever fight again. You can see it in their eyes. At the end, rebels were turning and riding back into the swamp."

"Why?" Rahl didn't understand. He just knew he was almost ready to fall out of the saddle, and everything hurt. He'd been lucky because the rebels hadn't been able to attack all at once. He'd just picked them off in ones and twos while they were trying to recover from swimming through the swamp.

"Majer…" Drakeyt's voice softened. "You need some rest and some food. You've done enough."

"Third Company did it," Rahl said. "I didn't know what was going on or who was coming from where. I just tried to disable as many rebels as I could." Fifty? That didn't seem possible. Not with a truncheon, even the one Khelra had made. "I just helped the squad as well as I could." It probably hadn't been enough, but the battle had told him one thing-he didn't have enough experience.

"Sylarn!" Drakeyt called out. "The majer's about to fall out of his saddle. He could use an escort to the bivouac area-we've got that end cottage."

"Yes, ser." The trooper who rode up was thin and wiry, and blood was splashed across his lower sleeves.

Rahl looked down. There was blood everywhere on him.

"Ser… this way."

Rahl turned the gelding.