Gorstan shrugged. 'Sometimes, it is the only way.'
Darrick could almost see Vuldaroq's fat face nodding his agreement.
Even alliance with Xetesk seemed a preferable plan to what he was presented with now. He drew a long breath, acutely aware of the effect of his next utterance.
'I cannot and will not speak for those under my charge but no, I do not offer my support. Neither do I offer my blessing or my belief in the outcome justifying the means. Your actions sicken me to the pit of my stomach and I have nothing but contempt for Dordover and for any in Lystern who were party to this abomination.'
Gorstan merely smiled. 'I do believe that is treason, General Darrick.'
'So be it.'
'Vuldaroq said you were trouble.'
'I think the term you're looking for is honourable. A quality apparently in very short supply.'
'I-'
'Be quiet, Dordovan. I am tired of your bleating. I will now announce my intentions to my cavalry. They will act on their own wills. You and I will have no further contact. Indeed, if we meet again, your life is forfeit.'
'Honour.' Gorstan chuckled. 'You would see Balaia fall for it. Fool. Why do you think Lystern is so weak?'
Darrick burned to say something more, to drag the mage from his horse and punch him until his sneers were bubbles of blood and bile in a toothless mouth. But he knew he couldn't.
'Like I said, no further contact.' He wheeled his mount and walked it back to his men.
Chapter 23
Aeb strode easily at the side of the mounted lead mage, Sytkan. The Protectors were resting after running through the day and into the night, after word from Arlen of the Black Wings' expulsion earlier in the day. The suspicion had been that trouble would flare later, probably under the cover of darkness, and the Protectors, at the time still more than thirty miles from the town over rough terrain, had been forced to make up a lot of time. There had been no further Communion.
A couple of miles outside the town, they had picked up the Dordovans; foot-soldiers trailing their horse-borne comrades by half a mile and steadily losing ground. Forward scouts reported a force of two hundred foot plus one hundred and fifty cavalry and mounted mages in all. The foot-soldiers were undefended.
Sytkan had immediately called for rest pace but had requested that Aeb order battle psyche, priming the Protectors for the potential fight.
There was a decision to be made. Aeb understood there were political considerations but did not respect the reluctance to order battie. Dordover had announced its intentions days before on the borders of the Xeteskian mage lands. The foot-soldiers were a threat to the success of the overall mission. Protectors were bred to remove threat.
'Opinion, Aeb,' said Sytkan.
'Engagement outside Arlen is more efficient,' said Aeb. 'There is more room for deployment, a reduction in the capacity of the enemy to flee effectively and minimal risk to innocents.'
'You can surround them?'
'Yes, my mage.' Aeb betrayed no reaction though the tactic was
clearly the most obvious to employ. It would make the battle swift. They outnumbered the enemy by almost three to two.
'But can we justify the attack?' asked Sytkan. 'Opinion, Aeb?'
'They are Dordovans moving to join their cavalry. They pose a greater threat if they do so. Here they are weak.'
'That is not justification,' said the mage.
'They are the enemy,' said Aeb.
'Yes, they are.'
Aeb waited for the order. Behind him were the vanguard, now separated by less than a hundred yards from thirty more mounted mages and three hundred and fourteen Protectors. It had to come soon. Flanking the Dordovans would take a little time and the lights of the town were now plainly visible.
'Will you need magical assistance?' asked Sytkan.
'Unnecessary. Containment is easier with weapons alone.'
'You think they'll scatter under magical assault?'
'We would,' affirmed Aeb.
'Attack at will'
'Yes, my mage.' Aeb didn't break his stride as he issued the orders.
Hanking attack. First centile right, second centile left, third centile form crescent for rear attack. Encirclement desired, balance to protect our Given. Silent running. Execute.
Aeb broke into a run, leaving the remainder of the vanguard plus designated brothers to guard the mages. Soon, he was joined by three brothers, the first centile tracking right away from the path, their pace even and matched by those to the left. The crescent following would form a little further along the track, lining three deep and closing with the rear of the flanking columns.
The ground was flat and open and despite the dark, the noise the Dordovans would be creating and the relative silence of the Protectors, Aeb only expected to overhaul a third of the enemy column before being seen. It would be enough.
The Protectors ate up the ground, Aeb's centile on a slight rise to the path, those of the left on a down slope. Weapons were strapped across their backs on snap fastenings and made little sound as they sped along the trail. Aeb could already see the figures of the Dordovans ahead, their torches bouncing as they moved,
their formation tight, five broad, and their pace quick. But they were not expecting trouble behind them. The forward Protector scouts had reported no dropped tail guard for the marchers and no vanguard ahead. Both fatal mistakes.
Slowing, front of first and second centiles approaching the tail, pulsed Aeb. Prepare the sweep on my word.
He could hear the enemy now. Chatter in the ranks, not a Xeteskian failing. But these men believed they were already victorious and their discipline was the worse for it.
Running in deep gloom perhaps forty yards from the enemy, Aeb bade the brothers scan them for signs they had seen the attack coming in. As it was, a quarter of the way up the column an elven voice rose in alarm.
'Left flank, left flank. I've got runners at thirty-plus yards. Check right.'
A voice answered almost immediately.
'Runners right flank.'
Even as the Dordovan column slowed and the night came alive with the sound of swords whipping from scabbards, Aeb pulsed the command to break. The flanking centiles sprinted forwards, angling in towards the front of the column.
The Protectors were silent, snapping axes and blades from their backs as they came, and Aeb heard their name taken up throughout the enemy ranks and could see the fear in their faces.
Archers.
Bowmen sent a flight of arrows skywards. They were too few and too inaccurate to cause problems and only one found a home in the arm of a brother. He discarded his axe, another closed up to protect his injured side, and he pulsed that he would continue.
Centile rear, close. We meet the left. Attack spread, double rank.
Aeb curved around, seeing the brothers from the left centile cruising in to close the trap. Like a wave breaking at angles to the shore, the Protectors' flank lines formed and attacked the Dordo-vans, Aeb straightening his run and smashing into the bemused enemy's front, their panic already spreading.
First pace in, Aeb chopped his axe left to right across the body of his opponent, feeling the blade bite flesh as it beat the guard which had been placed to anticipate an overhead. Beside him, Xye blocked
a blow on his axe and drove his blade through, straight and waist-high, stabbing it clear through the enemy's body, making light of the chain-and-leather armour.
In front of Aeb, the enemy still stood and somehow struck out in an upward arc. Aeb swayed back and flat-bladed his axe into the man's face before driving his sword up between the victim's legs, splitting his groin and showering blood five feet in every direction.
Rear centile engaged. Back line breached.
Upper right block axe, Xye. Control, sword low, strike forward.