—or the Sunsguard—
—it was duty.
She wept and fought their restraining hands; she hit and screeched at them, with the background of the chaos of battle nearly drowning out her screams. She actually caught Alberich a glancing blow across his chin, and Herald Keren a direct hit that would leave her with a black eye soon. She called them cowards, traitors, and worse. She ordered them to let her go, pleaded with them, threatened them with imprisonment, whipping, death. He paid no attention to what she said, not because she didn't mean it, because of course, she did, but because it was irrelevant. No matter how much she cursed them now or hated them later, they would keep her here, out of the fighting.
Satisfied that her bodyguards had her pinned, if not under control, he edged Kantor out of the tangle and let Myste take his place. The danger to her was not less with Sendar down on the battlefield. If anything, it was greater.
He pulled his own sword and stood lone guardian for a moment over the group, his eyes raking over the hilltop, looking for help. He was in luck; there were still a few of the Royal Guard who stood hesitantly nearby, milling a little in confusion. They were not mounted, not swift enough to follow Sendar on his headlong plunge toward the fighting-zone; they were torn between trying to battle their way toward him and staying to guard the Heir. Alberich solved their hesitation for them.
"To Selenay!" he roared at them; given clear orders, they gratefully obeyed, and made a second line of defense in a half-circle around her, weapons at the ready, a line of four archers kneeling in front of another five swordsmen.
He turned back to the group around Selenay; she was still in danger, if the enemy archers took it into their heads to shoot. Perhaps only the fact that the Tedrel commanders wanted her alive had kept them safe so far, for they were the only members of the command group still on the ridge. Everyone else, the Lord Marshal included, had followed Sendar. He wanted to look—but Selenay's safety came first.
"Get her down!" he shouted, "On the ground!" and enforced his order with Mindspeech. No telling which of them would hear—but the Companions would. Caryo would. "On the ground, unhorsed, get her down! Form the turtle!"
The others fell back a little, as Myste half-lunged and half-fell off her Companion, taking Selenay and the banner with her, while Caryo helped by giving a buck and a twist to dislodge her rider. Myste and Selenay disappeared as Keren and Ylsa spilled off their mounts and formed the turtle over them with their shields. The Guardswomen looked uncertain for a moment. "You four, ahorse stay—help me!" he shouted at them, and they stayed mounted. :Kantor, I want the Companions and us between the enemy and Selenay, but behind the Royal Guard. Make a circle:.
:Right.: The Companions, now without riders, made a square of their bodies around the turtle. "Yourselves space out," Alberich ordered. "Bunch not, but knee to flank go—Companion, Guard, Companion."
Garbled and heavily accented as his words were, they evidently figured out what he wanted; with riderless Companions between them, they wedged themselves into the circle, facing outward. Under the turtle of shields, there was still a lot of movement and raised voices, but nothing was coming out, so Alberich dismissed the struggle from his mind.
He looked sharply toward the battlefield; in the middle of the fighting, where it was at its most heated, the King's banner still waved. But—but their lines were now on the verge of the little stream, not behind it. Sendar's charge had carried the entire line of battle forward; insane as the move had been, it looked as if it might have had the desired effect.
He saw the faint movement above the heads of the milling fighters on the other side of the stream, behind the Tedrel lines, and acted on instinct.
"Shields up!" he shouted, and put his over his head as example. The others did the same.
Just in time; arrows clattered down on them, force in nowise spent by their long journey. The movement he'd seen had been the arrows arcing up to clear the battle lines from the Tedrel side.
The arrows fell harmlessly, thanks to his instincts; the shields, their armor, their mounts' armor, kept anyone from being hurt, and under the turtle, Selenay was completely safe. It sounded like being caught in a terrible hailstorm, however, and the first volley was followed within a moment by a second, a third—
:She's stopped fighting. I think the arrows have scared her.: said Kantor.
Good. One less thing to worry about.
"The turtle stay under! Shields up!" he ordered, as another rain of arrows clattered onto the upheld shields. He did not look behind him to see if he was being obeyed; he knew that even if Selenay rebelled, the Heralds would make sure she stayed put. Myste would sit on her to make certain of that.
An unfamiliar mind-voice touched his inward "ear." :For once being clumsy paid off; if I'd tried to hang onto her and pull her onto my saddle, she'd probably have gotten away from me, but she couldn't do anything about my falling off with her.:
:Myste?: He was astonished. She'd never tried to Mindspeak to him before.
:Don't worry, she can't get away from me now; I outweigh her by quite a bit. She might be a little squashed, but she can't get me off of her.: Although he was nothing like an Empath, he was astonished by the complex emotional overtones that came with her words. Amusement at her own expense, pain, anger, grief, frantic worry for herself, more worry about Selenay and Sendar, and over all, terror held rigidly in check. And yet, her thoughts were so clear, he could hardly believe it. :Even if they get this far, they'll have to get through me to touch her, and there's a lot of me to act as a shield.:
He didn't ask if she was all right; she wasn't, none of them were. :Are you hurt?:
:My lenses are broken, and I think I broke my ankle, but that's the least of our worries. Don't call anyone, and don't try and get me out of here for now. I won't be moving anyway until this is over, or unless you have to haul her out of here and run for it. Promise me, though, if that happens, make sure I get back in my saddle? I'm curious about these Tedrels, but not that curious.:
:You hove my word.: He wanted to try and summon a Healer for her, for she must be in excruciating pain, but she was right, and with luck her armored boot would hold her ankle well enough in place that no further damage would occur until they had the luxury of worrying about it. Given the kinds of terrible wounds being inflicted out there in the zone of fighting, a broken ankle counted as "minor." There was no doubt that Myste knew what the right answers were, and was giving them, even though she probably was howling inside with terror and the "right" answers were the last thing she wanted to supply.
Probably? Given the level of terror and pain he sensed, she was howling deep in her own heart, all right. Years ago, when she refused to learn weapons' work, this was the last thing he would have expected out of Trainee Myste.