"After she's been trained by Drakonius? Lenardo, she knows that if I'm here, Drakonius is dead. But she doesn't flee-she fights! That is a grown woman, loyal to death to her lord. Where is your loyalty, Lenardo?"
To the empire, but that was not the issue here. To his Reader's Oath, which forbade him to use his powers to harm others-except, of course, the enemies of the empire. And Aradia need not be such an enemy. "With you, my lady."
"Then point the Adept out to me."
"You can't see her from here, but she can see you." As if to confirm his words, another wall of flame shot out of the earth before them, singeing the flailing-hoofs of Aradia's rearing horse.
"Get downl" cried Lilith, abandoning her own horse to dart behind some rocks.
Aradia scrambled down, and Lenardo followed her to shelter. "Drakonius' apprentice is almost directly opposite us now," he said. "Have you the strength between you to topple the rocks she's hiding behind?"
"It is simpler to create a fire than to move those rocks," said Lilith. "Even after we destroy that Adept, our armies are still outnumbered."
"Yes-fire," said Aradia. "Turn her own weapon back on her. I don't think she has the strength for much else."
"She's moved," said Lenardo. "There's a kind of trail- maybe just a rabbit track-and she's peering out just to the left over there-"
He was looking to where he was Reading. As he spoke, a blaze roared up behind the young Adept woman, trapping her, climbing the rock faster than she could. Her pain as the fire consumed her clothing, hair, Sesh, was open to him as if she were non-Adept. Relief came only as the woman died, and there was nothing more to Read but continued charring of her remains. "You can stop," he gasped. "She's dead."
The blaze died, and both women slumped. Lilith sat down on the ground, panting. Aradia kept her feet, but Lenardo could Read her weariness. She took a few deep breaths, though, and said, "The rest will be easy. The few with minor Adept talents cannot harm us, and soon Wulf-ston will be here."
"Good," said Lenardo. "Then you can rest for a while."
"While my people die?" she asked in astonishment. "Lilith, we should separate."
The other woman nodded and climbed to her feet. "I'll go this way. I saw my banners over there. I'll circle around and join my troops."
Where do they get their strength? Lenardo wondered.
"Come with me," Aradia told him. "You can Read better than I can see. Tell me where I'm needed."
They descended into the fray on foot, their horses having strayed too far to chase without wasting precious time. For Aradia's troops were being slaughtered. At first Lenardo didn't have to say a thing; a horseman wielding a battle-ax collapsed and fell from his horse just as he was about to swing down upon one of Aradia's men who was engaged with another of the enemy. In another skirmish of three on one, two suddenly turned and began fighting one another, although both wore the black dragon of Drakonius' livery.
Unsure of how much protection Aradia would need, Lenardo drew hi$ sword. Instantly, one of the savages was on him, hiding behind a stout leather shield as he hacked at Lenardo. The Reader thrust, his blade was knocked aside, and he stepped back-to feel his footing give way as his boot sole slid in the mud created by blood mixed with the dry earth. As if stout arms had caught him, he was set upright, able to skewer his opponent, who had dropped his shield to give his own sword arm free swing, thrusting at the man he expected to be down and floundering.
Pulling his weapon from the groaning savage, Lenardo looked up to see Aradia's wolfish smile. At that moment another man knelt, pointing at Aradia, sighting along his arm as if along an arrow. "Aradia," Lenardo warned, pointing, "what's he-?"
She turned swiftly, and the man groaned, clutched at his chest, and collapsed. "Had others joined," she said grimly, "a group of even these very minor Adepts could destroy a weakened Lord Adept. Thank you, Lenardo."
Then they were moving on, Lenardo finding himself fighting off those who tried to reach Aradia whenever she paused to concentrate-and her pauses became longer and more intent as she grew more tired. She became more and more Readable, her panting breath roaring in her ears as she expended her energy, not to-win a decisive victory through her Adept powers, but to even the odds so that her troops could win for themselves. The word that she was there was spreading rapidly; her soldiers redoubled their efforts, and slowly the battle turned, the enemy driven back.
Aradia moved off to one side, where several of her men were crowded into a tight little circle, back to back, presenting a bristle of weapons to a far larger force of the enemy. Enemy troops began to drop, one by one, as Aradia approached. Someone turned, saw her, and cried, "Get the bitch!" Another man grabbed a pikestaff, and flung it like a javelin, while beyond them several bowmen heard the cry and nocked their arrows despite the poor visibility. The rain of weapons was deflected as if an iron shield were placed an arm's length before Aradia's face, but Lenardo felt the effort drain her. She stumbled, then sagged in a faint.
Lenardo leaped to her side, with one blow slicing off the arm of a man thrusting at her. He snatched her up and backed off as her own men broke their tight formation to race to her rescue. As the enemy were concentrating on the chance to kill Aradia, her men came up behind them, killing several before they were aware. Lenardo dragged the Adept's dead weight toward the rocky outcropping where he could shelter her, hampered in using his sword until he finally stumbled through the rocks and dropped Aradia, turning to defend the narrow opening that could be held by a single swordsman-for a while, anyway. He cast about for Lilith, but she was hi a distant part of the valley, fully occupied.
Aradia's men were attacking from behind, but between them and Lenardo were at least a dozen men who did not care if they died if they could kill Aradia hi doing so. They were more skilled than Lenardo in the use of the heavier sword, but he had the advantage of a Reader, knowing their moves even as they did. In this position, he had to take only one at a time; it was possible he could hold out until help reached him.
By the time he had dispatched two of the men, however, the energy of excitement was beginning to fade. His muscles quivered, and rivers of sweat poured down his body. He stopped trying to Read whether Aradia was recovering, and concentrated on the new opponent coming up before him.
The force of the man's rush drove Lenardo back a step into the narrow passage between the rocks. A bit further, and he would trip over Aradia's still form-or give the man a chance to reach her with his blade.
The savage before him was taller than Lenardo and muscled like a bull-pure fighting machine. His swordplay was not skillful-he was trying to hack his way in on strength alone, butting with his shield as much as cutting with his sword. Against such tactics Lenardo's Reading was not nearly as much of an advantage as against technique.
The enemy warrior had forced his way to a position where he was buttressed behind his shield, his longer reach keeping Lenardo at bay, although the Reader was determined he should not get through the passage.
I should learn to use one of those shields, Lenardo thought, the weariness hi his sword arm making him long for the lighter, swifter blade the bandits had stolen. And but for that one skirmish with Helmuth's men, he was a month out of practice. It was telling badly. How often I drilled into my students the importance of daily practice!
Forced back step by step, Lenardo finally reached the narrowest part of the short passage, too narrow for his opponent to get through without turning sideways, his sword arm unshielded. Quickly Lenardo engaged, swords sliding along one another until the crossguards met He could not hold thus against the other's brute strength but had no intention to. He held long enough, he hoped, then let his arm fall as if all the strength were gone from it,, gasping in feigned dismay.