In a way, Alaynara reminds him of Emerya, the same sort of combination of caring and practicality … and that reminds him of Amaira … and Ryalah, and he wonders how they are both doing … and that makes him wonder if Alaynara will end up like Emerya. He is still pondering what Alaynara had wanted when he stretches out on his blanket.
That acrid odor is stronger when he wakes as the sky is beginning to lighten the next morning. He glances at Altyrn’s bedroll, which is already rolled up and wonders if the majer ever sleeps. When he looks outside, he can see that the cooler wind has brought scattered clouds, not thin ones, but the puffy kind that may well turn into thunderstorms by afternoon.
After checking with the second company duty ranker, he is relieved to know that there have been no more attacks during the night, not after ninth glass, anyway, and that the fires caused by the white wizards have largely died out. Because of the efforts of the elders?
Lerial eats quickly and goes to find Altyrn, whom he finds standing in the narrow opening of the outer road gate. The lines of smoke from cookfires and the fact that there are no forces obviously mustering suggest that they do not plan on an early attack.
The majer turns to Lerial. “Close to midday. They’ve widened the gap east of here. I could be wrong, but I think they’ll attack there in force without their wizards.”
“Ser?”
“They have to know that you can’t or won’t throw chaos. But you can throw it back at them. They don’t need chaos to prevail. In fact, it could hurt them. So they’ll send the wizards elsewhere to burn other entries and let most of their armsmen push their way into the Verd.”
“Shouldn’t second company go where they are?”
“We don’t know-yet-where that might be. If the Meroweyans attack where it’s most likely, fifth and sixth company will be in the trees on both sides of the burned-out area, and they’ll be on foot with blades and bows. Third and fourth company will be behind them, but angling in, with half the squads on foot, and half mounted. Their battle line will be the unburned brush and trees. First and second companies will be the farthest back, and mounted, but in the middle of the assault. If we get word as to where the white wizards are, I’ll pull second company to ride to where the wizards are. Juist and Kusyl can pull back and in and to cover first company on both sides.”
“When do you want us in position?”
“Unless I order otherwise, start moving into place in a glass.”
“Yes, ser.”
Slightly more than a glass later, Lerial stands at the edge of the burned-out section of the Verd, looking out across a charred and ash-covered waste where only the blackened trunks and lower limbs of the most massive trees remain, jutting into a sky half-filled with white and gray clouds. The burned area is close to four hundred yards wide at the former edge, where even the stoutest trunks have been blasted away by chaos-fire, those ancient and massive trunks that Lerial had once believed could withstand almost anything-anything but fire. The fire-cleared area stretches back a good three hundred yards, but narrows to slightly more than two hundred yards wide where Lerial stands, beside a tree whose lower leaves are gone, but not those in the canopy. Lerial can see the purpose behind the Meroweyan chaos-attack, because the trees are much farther apart farther inside the Verd, separated by as much as five to eight yards behind Lerial. In other areas, he knows, the trees and underbrush are almost impassible, suggesting that the Meroweyans either have had spies posing as traders and scouting the Verd for a time or the white wizards are very accurate in sensing the areas with fewer trees.
Lerial glances southward, but does not see any Meroweyan forces. The wind is gusting at times, and each gusts shifts fine ash. Even with the wind, the sun is much stronger, early in spring as it is, and Lerial wears his jacket unfastened as he stands beside the gelding, wondering if the wayguides or the elders or the scouts will be able to locate the remaining white wizards. How many did they bring? He’s fairly certain that he has killed two, possibly three. Are there that many strong white wizards in Merowey? Or does Duke Casseon prefer to keep the stronger ones busy and at a distance? Or both? The latter possibility is definitely disturbing, but there’s little he can do about that now … or possibly ever.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees movement, and he reaches out with his order senses, recognizing Altyrn and another rider. He turns and sees that with the majer is an older man in brown, most likely a wayguide-and that suggests that second company is needed elsewhere. Rather than guess, he just waits as Altyrn reins up and merely says, “Yes, ser?”
“You can guess, I’m certain, Captain. This time they’ve moved some three kays east. That’s where they threw firebolts earlier, but not enough to totally break through. Reksyl, here, will guide you as close as he can. If it’s a feint, I’d appreciate your returning as soon as possible. But you know that,” says Altyrn. “If there is a chaos wizard there, anything you can do would be appreciated, especially to the armsmen with him.”
“I understand, ser.” In short, use the chaos, if you can, to reduce the number of Meroweyans we have to fight.
“I’m sure you do.” Altyrn nods brusquely, then says to the wayguide. “Thank you.” He turns his mount.
Lerial calls out, “Second company! Mount up! Back to the road. First squad to the east. Double file!” Then he mounts and nods to the wayguide. “If you would, Reksyl.”
“This way, ser.”
Lerial keeps glancing back, but the squads are following, and behind them, he can see first company shifting position. In less than a fifth of a glass second company is riding eastward at a fast walk. The “road” is more like a path wide enough for two mounts abreast, and the grass at each side extends only a cubit or so out from the packed earth before giving way to underbrush and trees. Lerial feels as though he is riding through a gray-green tunnel, mostly gray, because only the green tips of the new leaves have begun to show and there are not that many evergreens in the Verd. Even the birds are hushed, as if they sense a storm of some sort, even though the rankers are largely quiet.
Lerial begins to sense the chaos to the southeast after they have ridden some two kays. While he is not totally certain, it feels a good kay away, perhaps slightly farther. He turns his head toward Reksyl. “How much farther?”
“A bit more than a kay, ser.”
Lerial nods.
“You can sense them.” Reksyl’s words are more statement than question.
“Somewhat…,” he admits.
“You are the … youngest officer, are you not?”
“Yes.”
“It is a sad time when the youngest son of a ruler must ride into battle with so many men’s lives behind him.”
“It is a sad time, when any ruler’s son must lead men into battle,” Lerial replies quietly.
“That is true,” replies Reksyl. “That is not what I meant. It is not it at all. You are young to have killed so many.”
Have you killed that many? How does he know?
“I am not a powerful ordermage, as are you, but the white touch of death leaves a faint silver mist around those mages who have brought forth death.”
“I’ve never seen that,” says Lerial.
“None sees his own mist, and few ordermages are strong enough to bring death and still hold order with power.”
Strong enough … or desperate enough? questions Lerial silently.
As they ride closer to the burned-out area, Lerial uses his order-senses to discover the formation of the Meroweyan forces. From what he can tell, there are four companies, and one is moving forward, toward the small burned-out part of the Verd edge. The front line, no more than a twenty-man front, consists of men with overlarge shields. Behind them are riders, and the riders also bear the same kind of overlarge shields. Perhaps five yards separates the foot and mounted shield line from a company of horse troopers, and behind the horse troopers are several mounted figures, one of whom is surrounded by chaos-the chaos wizard who will doubtless begin the process of burning a wider gap in the tree trunks that have protected the Verd for so long.