‘Care? An interesting term. And I believe we have full rights of passage as laid down in the Triverne Agreement on Mage Land Propriety.’
‘An old and dusty legislature,’ said Sytkan. ‘And rendered void in times of open conflict between Colleges, as I recall.’
‘Is that what you call this?’ asked Vuldaroq.
‘Since your insults are directed at the Lord of the Mount, yes.’
Tension flared. Aeb watched the ripple through the Dordovan cavalry. He could count more than a hundred but guessed that twice that many stood hidden by the chill swirling mist.
Stand down ready. No weapons. Check left, aggressive intent, centre is fear, right neutral, Aeb pulsed to his brothers. None of them so much as moved a muscle.
In the centre of the trail, the four Xeteskian mages stood calm but Aeb could feel one preparing a HardShield to defend against projectile attack. Beside her, another prepared spell defence. He assumed the Dordovans were doing the same.
‘It would be unwise to threaten us, Sytkan,’ said Vuldaroq. ‘I have three hundred cavalry here. I’d hate to see them run you down.’
‘And you will not,’ replied Sytkan, voice firm but cool. ‘A clear act of aggression in Xeteskian lands would be a great mistake with the bulk of the Protector army not far behind you.’
Vuldaroq chuckled and dismounted, his horse twitching its gut and back as the considerable weight was removed. The mage walked forward.
‘There. Far more civilised. Now, I think this little spat should end here. Let’s agree to differ on our agendas and move on.’ He was a few paces from Sytkan and Aeb could see the fear in his eyes though he covered it with overconfident bluster.
‘Absolutely,’ agreed Sytkan. ‘But for you that means journeying by the quickest route from Xeteskian lands. You understand you cannot be allowed to ride ahead of us. So, north, I think that means. Aeb, do you concur?’
‘The lands north are easier for horses, Master. It is a quicker route than south.’
‘Exactly. I am sorry, Vuldaroq, but I have instructions from Dystran himself. Due to the unfortunate reaction of Dordover and Lystern, our lands are temporarily closed to your traffic. I require you to respect that.’
‘You expect me to accede to the word of a Lord of the Mount who is nothing more than a puppet to his Circle Seven and the advice of a masked thug?’ Vuldaroq spun on his heel and stalked back to his horse.
‘Retract your remarks concerning my Lord of the Mount,’ demanded Sytkan.
‘I never retract the truth.’
‘Aeb, deploy,’ muttered Sytkan, signalling his mages to cast their shields.
Space across the path. Move to ready.
Like ghosts in the mist, the Protectors reacted, their movements precise and efficient. In moments they had blocked the path in a slightly concave line. As they came to ready, axes and swords snapped from back mounts in a clatter of steel which echoed across the windswept space, its chill sound accentuated by the silence that followed. Aeb looked and saw fear. It was expected.
Sytkan spoke into the void. ‘This is not a bluff. Your insults are crude, Vuldaroq, but our threat is not. Ride north. Leave our lands and take some advice. Go back to Dordover. You’ll find nothing but death in Arlen.’
Vuldaroq sniffed. ‘I will ride where I please.’
‘North.’
‘And if I refuse?’
‘Then we will attack you. Aeb has freedom to act. He needs no further command.’
Vuldaroq considered and smiled. He shrugged.
‘Horses are quick. Your creatures are on foot. I can order the cavalry to ride north a mile if it will assuage your conscience. We will return to the path at a time that suits us and well ahead of you.’
‘How little you understand about the mind of a Protector. He is bred to snuff out threat and aggression against Xetesk. You can only ride so fast and we will track you down. Don’t challenge us.’
‘I am getting very tired of this. We are three hundred horse and one hundred and fifty mages. You are twenty and four. Stand aside.’
‘You are a split force,’ said Sytkan. ‘And no, we will not yield. All Xeteskians are pledged to defend their land, as you are yours. If you can’t show civility, at least show respect.’ He tempered his tone and added. ‘Come on, Vuldaroq, neither of us needs to fight here. You know I can’t move. You aren’t losing face. You’re just doing the right thing.’
‘So be it.’ Vuldaroq wheeled his horse and began to trot back down the centre of the four-abreast cavalry column. At once, FlameOrbs soared up from its middle, arcing across the space to splash against the shield covering the Xeteskians. It held, the fire lashing over its transparent surface, searing and cracking as it dissipated into the ground, sending steam clouding up.
‘Damn you, Vuldaroq,’ muttered Sytkan.
Aeb needed no invitation.
Front rank, horses, second rank, flank support. Force width, pincer in.
Standing at the centre point of their formation, Aeb, with Elx and Ryu at his sides, stepped up just as the Dordovan cavalry started moving. Dropping to his haunches, Aeb swung his axe right-handed into the lead horse’s front legs, catching the left just above the knee and slicing clear. The animal screamed and reared, Aeb already moving forward and away from the flailing limbs. Its rider crashed off, seeing nothing but the Protector’s sword thrash through his undefended neck.
Left and right, Aeb’s brothers struck low with axe, high with sword, horses and riders collapsing as the frightening onslaught gathered momentum. Blood fizzed into the air, painting the mist a hideous shade of pink and, all around, the terrified cries of horses mingled with the urgent shouts of riders attempting to force their mounts to forward action.
Aeb was pressed on all sides. He lashed out with his axe, feeling it bite deep into an unguarded flank. The horse leapt sideways, rider hanging on, sweeping his sword down where it connected with Aeb’s protective block. But the man was unbalanced and the next axe strike knocked him from his saddle, to die under the hooves of his stricken mount which, eyes rolling, searched for a way out of the death, the scent high in its flaring nostrils.
Aeb let it go, to add to the confusion, and turned for his next target. Ahead of him, the cavalry had stopped and left Elx decapitated a rider who had made the mistake of leaning down to strike at what he had been sure was an unguarded back.
Regroup. Withdraw centre. Outer flanks hold. They are massing. Charge imminent.
Aeb looked along the line. No Protectors were lost and a dozen cavalry lay slain. He backed off, each footstep sure, guided by a brother. Overhead, more FlameOrbs covered the sky, boiling the spray of rain as they travelled, detonating harmlessly on the Xeteskian shields. There was no return.
The Dordovan cavalry had disappeared back into the mist but in the eerie half-silence, shouted orders filtered out. Visibility was perhaps sixty yards. The Protectors stood in two ranks of ten, ten paces from the carnage they had created. Their weight was towards the flanks, eighteen each side, with only Aeb and three others holding dead centre. Long before they could see anything, the ground vibrated as the cavalry advanced at a trot. Clashing metal sounded from the mist, and the snorts of horses impatient for the charge.
Aeb waited, his Protectors solid and immobile. Shadows moved in the mist ahead, ghosts in the rain. Slowly, they resolved and Aeb could see the outline of their formation. He felt his pulse quicken and his brothers joined him in the surge that came before battle. Behind him, the mages were mounted, spell shields doubled, HardShield dropped, ready to run but confident in their Protectors.
Perhaps fifty yards away, at a barked order, the cavalry charged, the riders roaring as they came, weapons glistening in the rain, their horses sleek and powerful, bred for the run.