Lerial keeps watching, measuring the advance of the Meroweyans against the withdrawal of third and fourth companies, but as soon as Kusyl rides behind the westernmost ranker of second company, and turns up the road into the Verd, Lerial knows that it will not be long before second company will have to withdraw.
“Fire at will! Rapid release!”
Korlyn repeats the order, and the arrows from second company fly faster. By now, the Meroweyans are only a hundred yards away.
Obviously, Altyrn has been watching as well because, as the last available arrows fly, the battle pipes sound.
“Second company! Withdraw! Deliberate speed!”
In moments, first squad has begun to move up the road, paired with first company’s fourth squad. Lerial rides forward, just slightly, ready for any chaos-fire that might be thrown at the retreating rankers, but there are no firebolts, and he cannot sense any white wizards nearby.
By the time the pikes are close to fifty yards away, Lerial and Altyrn’s senior squad leader are alone on the road where the Verdyn battle line, such as it had been, and Lerial turns the gelding toward the narrow opening remaining in the road gate, a solid and massive structure almost three yards high, urging the gelding forward, if glancing over his shoulder every few yards of the hundred or so he has to cross before passing through the road gate. The acting first company undercaptain is right behind him. Once through the gate, he looks back, absently wondering how the road guards can even move the gate, even along the narrow and deep polished stone grooves that had been covered with fitted wooden covers. Lerial can only get a glimpse of the Meroweyans before the gate closes behind the other officer and additional barriers are moved into place.
For a moment. Lerial wonders why the attackers have not tried to rush the gate before it closed, but then realizes that after the attacks by the various companies, the Meroweyans expect more arrows if they advance closer.
A series of horn calls rise from beyond the Verd. Lerial can sense that the attackers have halted … and that the armsmen and the mounted riders are re-forming or dressing their lines. Then he rides back and rejoins second company, mustered a good hundred yards north of the second road gate. Immediately to the east, under the tall trees, are the company mounts, saddled and ready for use.
When Lerial reins up, Korlyn looks at him. “Ser … how many do you think we took down?”
As Korlyn speaks, Lerial order-senses that a smaller group of Meroweyans is nearing the main body of the attackers … and among the newcomers are several white wizards.
“Ser?”
“I’m sorry, Korlyn. How many? There were gaps in their ranks, but there were enough that I couldn’t count. But second company alone must have loosed close to a thousand shafts. If one in ten hit someone … “We might have wounded a company’s worth.” Leaving us with few if any war arrows … and not much chance of getting more soon.
“If the other companies did as well, ser…”
“They couldn’t, except for first company. We had more arrows. If we’re fortunate, we might have wounded three companies worth.” And that leaves something more than thirty-five companies. He smiles sardonically. “We only have to keep doing that day after day.”
“Yes, ser.”
It is almost a shock to Lerial when he realizes that Korlyn believes that is possible … but the last thing he wants to do is dash the young squad leader’s beliefs. What will surely come will do that all too soon. Lerial surveys the area. Because second company was one of the last to leave, Lerial and his squads are already where Altyrn has positioned them for the attack that will come, sooner or later.
Almost a glass later, Lerial and the others are still waiting. While he has dismounted, he has tied the gelding to the nearest tree. He can sense that the Meroweyans have divided their forces into three bodies. One body remains straddling the road into the Verd. The second is a good kay to the west, and the third a kay to the east. That makes all too much sense to Lerial. They will attack simultaneously at all three points. He can sense two white wizards behind the shield and pike line facing the road gate. There are also white wizards with each of the other two Meroweyan formations, but Lerial has the sense that they are not so strong as the strongest one closest to him.
He needs to do something, but what?
Could you divert one of those firebolts back to the wizard who is throwing it? He had attempted that on the last attack, but all he had succeeded in doing was dropping the chaos into the ground short of his own rankers. But you were much farther away from the wizard.
What if you formed a larger pattern, one that attracted the chaos-bolt back toward the wizard who created it? Creating a larger pattern will be difficult enough, but he has no idea how to create flows that will do that. He takes out the silk pouch that holds the lodestone and studies it closely with his order-chaos senses. While there is a pattern at both ends, there is something … He concentrates … finally sensing that, between the ends of the lodestone, there are flows of order and chaos-or something like order and chaos-and each is like a coil. Can he create a coil like that running from the mage to the chaos-bolt?
Lerial has no idea. Nor does he know if his idea will work, since he does know that he cannot create that large a coil of chaos, even if the pattern lines are extraordinarily fine. But don’t order and chaos have to balance somehow? They must … because, if they didn’t, wouldn’t they destroy each other? Again … he has no idea, but both Emerya and Saltaryn have made the point that the best of the Magi’i always use order to handle chaos. But you’re not the best of mages … if you’re one at all. Still …
Abruptly, he looks at the first squad leader, some ten yards to the east of him. “Korlyn … you’re in command for the moment. I’ll be back as soon as possible. I need to talk to the majer.”
With that Lerial unties the gelding and mounts, setting out to find Altyrn, not that he has to ride far, because he finds the majer standing beside the second road gate, the one some hundred yards behind the outer gate. The gate is not quite closed, with an opening about a yard and a half wide.
Altyrn looks up at Lerial, but does not speak.
“I don’t know if I can do anything about the wizards, but if I can I need to be close to them.” Lerial gestures southward toward the outer road gate. “Close to that.”
“Well then,” replies Altyrn, “go see what you can do … for a while. But don’t get yourself incinerated in the process. Oh … and don’t ride on the road itself, whatever you do. Take two rankers in case you get too involved in ordermagery. Who’s in command in your absence?”
“Korlyn, the first squad leader. Traps in the road?”
Altyrn nods. “We don’t intend to make it easy for them.”
Puzzling over Altyrn’s comparatively easy acquiescence, Lerial rides back to Korlyn and reins up. “I’ll need two rankers to accompany me, and you’re in command until I return.” Or until the majer appoints someone else. Lerial doesn’t voice that thought.
The puzzled expression on the squad leader’s face is but momentary as he turns and calls out, “Linstaar, Muaran, you’re detailed to the captain. Mount up.”
In little more than moments, the two rankers are following Lerial, who turns back and says, “We’re not to ride on the road itself once we go through the inner road gate.” Both men nod knowingly, almost as if trapping the entry roads is a usual practice.
It probably is. Lerial doubts that such a practice will account for more than a few men and mounts. But then, if we account for a few men and mounts time after time, it might add up. That, at least seems to be the hope of the elders and the majer.