blast of chaos flared against Kharl’s shields, still weaker than the first two.
As Kharl sensed that the white wizard was trying to recover, he dropped his own shields. “Have them fire now!”
“Resume fire!”
This time, the quarrels began to strike the handful of rebel lancers.
Another firebolt arced over the rebels toward Kharl, and he deflected it back toward the white wizard.
Chaos flared around the wizard, and one of the rebel armsmen flared into flame, screaming, if only for a moment, before pitching onto the stones.
“Back! Now!” ordered someone, and within moments, the area inside the bailey gate held only those loyal to Lord Ghrant.
“Secure the gate!” ordered Hagen. “Two of you hold it!”
The sound of hoofs on stone echoed through the still-open gate, but faded quickly as the gate closed and the riders departed northward along the back lane.
Four rebels lay on the stones of the courtyard, just inside the gate.
“. . . won’t try that again . . .” murmured one of the crossbowmen to Kharl’s left.
Kharl had his doubts about that. The rebels might well try another sneak attack. They knew that Ghrant only had one mage. He looked at Hagen.
The older man offered a crooked smile. “Best we take what we can,” he said in a low voice.
Kharl realized that sweat was streaming down his forehead and that his ribs were aching more than they had—but not too much more. Carefully raising his right arm, he blotted the sweat away with his sleeve. He extended his order-senses, just to make sure that the attackers were continuing northward. While he could not tell if all the riders continued away from the Great House, the white wizard certainly had.
“They’re still riding north?” asked Hagen.
“The wizard is.”
“Stand by here. Don’t open that gate for anyone until either the captain or I tell you to,” Hagen ordered. “The mage and I need to check on some matters.” He nodded to Kharl. “You go first. I’ll be right behind you.” His voice lowered to barely more than a murmur. “You need to eat. You’re as pale as those dressings on your chest.”
Belatedly, Kharl realized that he did feel slightly light-headed. “I didn’t have time to eat.”
“Neither did I. Would you join me?”
“I’d be happy to.”
Before long the two were in a small dining room less than thirty cubits from Hagen’s receiving chamber. There were but two circular tables, and no one else was there—except for a serving girl.
“Two full breakfasts, with hot spiced cider,” Hagen said, even before he seated himself.
Kharl sank gratefully into the chair across the table from the lord-chancellor.
“This morning’s skirmish will hearten the personal guard,” Hagen noted. “They’ll all be saying how you were stronger than the rebel mage.”
“Order is better at defending, I think.”
“It also may buy us some time.” Hagen paused. “Why couldn’t you sense him for a time there?”
“He knew I was looking. He stopped using chaos at all. That was how I found him to begin with. He needed it to get the armsmen close to the Great House, but then he dropped all his shields and stopped using chaos. He and the smaller force slipped behind the bigger dwellings to the north, where we couldn’t see them, and circled around to come down the lane behind the houses toward the bailey gate.”
“That’s probably how they got in to take Vatoran. They had to bribe someone. I’d wager that the armsman who left the gate open is long gone.” Hagen shook his head. “None of this helps. It was very clever. Even if the attempt to get into the Great House failed, they attacked one of Lord Ghrant’s supporters right here in Valmurl, and they got inside the Great House—twice, if anyone tells about how Vatoran escaped. Word will get around that Lord Ghrant can’t even protect those close to him.”
All of it had started with Kharl showing that the chief factor had lied, and matters just kept getting
As Kharl sensed that the white wizard was trying to recover, he dropped his own shields. “Have them fire now!”
“Resume fire!”
This time, the quarrels began to strike the handful of rebel lancers.
Another firebolt arced over the rebels toward Kharl, and he deflected it back toward the white wizard.
Chaos flared around the wizard, and one of the rebel armsmen flared into flame, screaming, if only for a moment, before pitching onto the stones.
“Back! Now!” ordered someone, and within moments, the area inside the bailey gate held only those loyal to Lord Ghrant.
“Secure the gate!” ordered Hagen. “Two of you hold it!”
The sound of hoofs on stone echoed through the still-open gate, but faded quickly as the gate closed and the riders departed northward along the back lane.
Four rebels lay on the stones of the courtyard, just inside the gate.
“. . . won’t try that again . . .” murmured one of the crossbowmen to Kharl’s left.
Kharl had his doubts about that. The rebels might well try another sneak attack. They knew that Ghrant only had one mage. He looked at Hagen.
The older man offered a crooked smile. “Best we take what we can,” he said in a low voice.
Kharl realized that sweat was streaming down his forehead and that his ribs were aching more than they had—but not too much more. Carefully raising his right arm, he blotted the sweat away with his sleeve. He extended his order-senses, just to make sure that the attackers were continuing northward. While he could not tell if all the riders continued away from the Great House, the white wizard certainly had.
“They’re still riding north?” asked Hagen.
“The wizard is.”
“Stand by here. Don’t open that gate for anyone until either the captain or I tell you to,” Hagen ordered. “The mage and I need to check on some matters.” He nodded to Kharl. “You go first. I’ll be right behind you.” His voice lowered to barely more than a murmur. “You need to eat. You’re as pale as those dressings on your chest.”
Belatedly, Kharl realized that he did feel slightly light-headed. “I didn’t have time to eat.”
“Neither did I. Would you join me?”
“I’d be happy to.”
Before long the two were in a small dining room less than thirty cubits from Hagen’s receiving chamber. There were but two circular tables, and no one else was there—except for a serving girl.
“Two full breakfasts, with hot spiced cider,” Hagen said, even before he seated himself.
Kharl sank gratefully into the chair across the table from the lord-chancellor.
“This morning’s skirmish will hearten the personal guard,” Hagen noted. “They’ll all be saying how you were stronger than the rebel mage.”
“Order is better at defending, I think.”
“It also may buy us some time.” Hagen paused. “Why couldn’t you sense him for a time there?”
“He knew I was looking. He stopped using chaos at all. That was how I found him to begin with. He needed it to get the armsmen close to the Great House, but then he dropped all his shields and stopped using chaos. He and the smaller force slipped behind the bigger dwellings to the north, where we couldn’t see them, and circled around to come down the lane behind the houses toward the bailey gate.”
“That’s probably how they got in to take Vatoran. They had to bribe someone. I’d wager that the armsman who left the gate open is long gone.” Hagen shook his head. “None of this helps. It was very clever. Even if the attempt to get into the Great House failed, they attacked one of Lord Ghrant’s supporters right here in Valmurl, and they got inside the Great House—twice, if anyone tells about how Vatoran escaped. Word will get around that Lord Ghrant can’t even protect those close to him.”
All of it had started with Kharl showing that the chief factor had lied, and matters just kept getting
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