The Mongrel Mage

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “They still might try something different.” Laugreth paused. “Then again, from what you’ve told me, they aren’t doing that with their foot. They’re just going to try to keep cutting us down. They can lose twice as many men as us in getting close to the piers and still have enough left to set up siege engines and protect them.”

  To Beltur that meant the Spidlarians had to kill at least three Gallosians for every Spidlarian who fell. He had the feeling there was something wrong with that calculation, but he couldn’t grasp what it was, perhaps because a second thought came to the fore. All over tariffs? How can anyone really win? Almost absently, he uncorked the second bottle of ale and took a swallow, realizing that, if he didn’t survive, none of that mattered. And his situation wouldn’t be that much better if he survived but the Gallosians won.

  Then he sensed that a much larger mounted force was heading north along the mudflats, just as another mass of Gallosian foot began to move forward. “More heavy mounted heading our way, ser.”

  “Ser!” called someone. “There are flatboats headed toward the point. They’re filled with armsmen.”

  Beltur could immediately see that if the flatboats landed on the north side of the point, they’d be behind the line Eleventh Foot held, as well as behind First and Second Squads, but if the two squads retreated to deal with the troopers on the flatboats, the combination of Gallosian foot and mounted might override Eleventh Foot, and then cut off the two squads.

  “Send for Undercaptain Zandyr and Third Squad!” shouted Laugreth.

  Beltur’s eyes checked the flatboats, still several hundred yards upstream and moving slowly, and then the oncoming riders, still moving at a walk and almost as far away.

  In a short time, Zandyr and Third Squad appeared, and Zandyr immediately rode over to where the captain waited.

  Laugreth pointed. “Those flatboats are likely going to try to ground themselves behind First and Second Squads. If they can land troopers there, they’ll force the foot on the point to defend against them. The armsmen in front of Eleventh Foot are already being forced back. You and Third Squad need to cut down as many of those troopers landing as possible.”

  “Yes, ser!”

  “Hold back until the first armsmen start to climb out onto the shore. Then attack. Don’t get your mounts into the water. Catch the Gallosians just as they reach shore. Don’t let your men get caught flat. And keep moving!”

  Once Zandyr rode back to Third Squad, Laugreth turned to Vaertaag. “Send word to Undercaptain Gaermyn that he’s to reinforce whatever force appears to need the support of Fourth and Fifth Squads the most.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Laugreth turned back to Beltur. “If all of the company were here, we’d just get in each other’s way. The flats aren’t that wide, and the banks above the flats are too steep for safe maneuvering in too many places.”

  That sounded reasonable to Beltur, although he also understood that it could have been totally unreasonable, and he wouldn’t have known the difference. Still, on the narrow flats south of the point, the two squads had stopped and thrown back a larger force. Once. But could the two squads do it again … and possibly a third time? Beltur had the feeling that the Gallosians would attack until they couldn’t anymore.

  “We’ll lead Second Squad on the next charge,” Laugreth said, before turning to Vaertaag. “First Squad will follow Second this time. Undercaptain Beltur and I will still lead.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Raising his voice, Laugreth ordered, “Second Squad! To the fore!”

  As he waited with the captain for the squads to re-form, Beltur glanced in the general direction of the white disk that was the sun … and was surprised to see that it was high in the sky, around ninth glass, he judged.

  Although he didn’t feel that hungry, he broke off a chunk of bread and ate it, then took several swallows of ale. By the time he finished, Second Squad was in position, and the Gallosians were moving north on the mudflats, less than a hundred yards from where the last encounter had taken place. Beltur studied the flats and the edge of the river, not liking what he saw. There were bodies, mostly of men, although there were several fallen horses as well.

  “About all those bodies, ser?”

  “I’m glad you noticed that. We’ll have to let them come a bit farther north, but just enough that some of their riders will be dealing with the fallen.”

  Beltur waited and watched, moistening his lips, and glancing to the river, but the flatboats seemed barely to crawl through the water toward the point. He looked back to the mudflats, where the Gallosians moved ever closer. Beyond the flats, he could see and sense the continuing conflict—and the growing numbers of deaths indicated by the black mists only he or another mage could sense.

  Laugreth waited until the Gallosians were some twenty yards farther north than they had been on the previous advance before he raised his arm, then dropped it. “Charge!”

  Beltur couldn’t help but notice that, once again, Laugreth lagged just slightly, letting Squad Leader Chaeryn and Beltur take the lead.

  Beltur leaned forward in the saddle more than he had earlier, which allowed him to reduce the size of his shields somewhat. He hoped that would reduce the effort it would take Slowpoke to make his way through the lead riders of the Gallosian heavy mounted, as well as the number of blows transmitted to his body through the shields.

  Slowpoke didn’t seem any slower as he approached the column, the leading riders of which had begun to swing west where the mudflats followed the curve of the point. The big gelding slammed aside two riders and threw yet another Gallosian into a fourth before he reached the slope of the bank, where he half jumped over something. Beltur barely managed to stay in the saddle, but recovered to turn Slowpoke, slowing him considerably, enough that one of the Gallosians swung a vicious cut at Beltur, only to look stunned as his sabre bounced away. That surprise turned to shock as a ranker in blue slashed him across the neck from the other side.

  Beltur turned Slowpoke south along the edge of the mudflats, where there looked to be fewer bodies on the ground. He let Slowpoke run for almost fifty yards before turning him, using his shields to move and occasionally unhorse Gallosians. Then he let the gelding walk back north along the flats less than a yard from the water. Men in gray slashed at him, and their sabres rebounded from his shields. He and Slowpoke managed to unhorse one, possibly two, even while walking, but as they reached where the attack had begun, Beltur had to turn Slowpoke east to get him around the mass of bodies sprawled there, some of which wore the dark blue of Spidlar.

  As he moved Slowpoke along the flats toward the point, he thought he saw that one of the flatboats had grounded near the end of the point, but all he could make out was a mass of riders in blue. Zandyr and Third Squad. He just hoped that they could repulse or at least hold off the attackers.

  Somewhere a horn sounded, and before long the only riders on the flats around the point were those in blue. Beltur finally made out Laugreth and angled Slowpoke toward the captain, where he reined up and watched and listened as the captain issued orders.

  “Get the wounded back to the far side of the point where we mustered by the hill. Make it quick with the bodies.” Laugreth looked to Beltur. “Are they readying another attack?”

  “It doesn’t look like it yet.”

  “We’ll only last for another charge,” said Laugreth. “Almost half of Second Squad is dead or wounded. If you hadn’t upset and unhorsed so many of them it would have been much worse.”

  “I didn’t know what else to do,” Beltur admitted. “Slowpoke couldn’t keep charging, not with all the fallen He would have stumbled or broken a leg.”

  “You did what was necessary. Where are the Gallosian foot?” asked the captain. “I don’t see many near the riverbank or just beyond.”

  Beltur hadn’t thought to check, but then, he’d been somewhat occupied. After several moments, he said, “They’ve withdrawn perhaps two hundred yards. They seem to be reg
rouping.”

  “What about the heavy mounted?”

  “It looks like they’re still regrouping.”

  Laugreth nodded slowly, then asked, “Can you extend your shields across the mudflats for just a moment if we have to charge the Gallosians?”

  “Maybe for a moment or two. Not for very long.” Beltur might have been able to do more, but then, he’d thought he could do more before, and he’d been wrong … and fortunate to survive.

  Laugreth nodded. “Then we’ll attack.”

  “After all the casualties?” asked Beltur in surprise.

  “We aren’t going to carry it through. We’ll just strike their front, knock them back, and then withdraw around the point. We can’t fight where we fought before, but, after we withdraw, if we have to, we can loft arrows into them while they’re on the flats around the point, and then hit them once they’re at the end of the point.” He paused. “We’ll have to leave Third Squad on the point because they’ve still got a flatboat anchored out there, and they’ll try to land troopers if we don’t leave a force.”

  Beltur glanced back at the point. There was no flatboat there. He looked back upstream. There was indeed another flatboat less than half a kay away. What happened to the one that tried to land troopers? He finally located it—apparently grounded downstream several hundred yards from the point, but on the west bank of the river. The troopers remaining in it weren’t going to be a problem for Second Recon. For other Spidlarian units, but not Second Recon. That might be selfish, but at the moment, you have the right to be selfish.

  “We’ll have to consolidate First and Second Squad into one body, and with the losses to both squads…” Laugreth shook his head. “We also lost Chaeryn on the last attack.”

  Beltur didn’t recall seeing Chaeryn go down, but then he didn’t recall much except what had happened around him, and some of that was blurred because it had happened so quickly.

  “Squads One and Two! Form up!” After a moment Laugreth asked, “Are they still regrouping?”

  “Yes, ser, but they look less chaotic.”

  “Then we need to get moving. Squads! Forward!”

  This time Laugreth was in the fore, if immediately beside Beltur, as the combined squads moved at a quick walk through the fallen and then southward on the dried mudflats toward the Gallosian mounted.

  Beltur still couldn’t sense any Gallosian foot near the water, but it appeared that they were massing and trying to push forward across the ground closer to the bluffs, where the Spidlarian forces seemed to be giving ground. You can’t worry about that now.

  Once the squads were past most of the fallen and re-formed, Laugreth increased the pace. Then, when they were less than fifty yards from the mounted Gallosians, he ordered, “Charge!”

  The first ranks of the Gallosian mounted looked surprised, at the very least, to see the Spidlarian force speeding toward them. Those in the front closed ranks and drew weapons, but they didn’t move, even as the distance narrowed between the two forces.

  When Beltur was less than ten yards from the Gallosians, he began to sense a buildup of chaos somewhere to his left. Then a huge chaos-bolt arched skyward and then downward toward the front ranks of the charging squad, seeming straight toward Beltur, who almost instinctively extended his shields in an effort to deflect the heat and chaos from himself and the leading riders.

  The chaos-fire splashed across the unseen shield and then flared back across the front ranks of the Gallosians, turning perhaps half a score into blackened and instantly charred figures. Then the Gallosian formation seemed to splinter as riders tried to escape.

  “Squads! Withdraw!” ordered Laugreth. “Withdraw! Now!”

  For a moment, Beltur thought he might have trouble with Slowpoke, but the gelding slowed, and Beltur turned him, contracting his shields somewhat, and hoping that another chaos-blast wasn’t forthcoming. He thought that the white wizard who had thrown it was on a knoll a hundred yards east, just below the rocky bluffs.

  He kept glancing back, but no more chaos flew in his direction.

  “Why didn’t that white mage throw more chaos?” asked Laugreth. “Was it because we were withdrawing, and he thought that we’d been the ones who’d been burned and were retreating?”

  “I don’t know, ser,” replied Beltur, glancing past the mass of riders now in front of him toward the point.

  “Frig!” swore the captain. “That other flatboat has grounded on the point. We need to get back there.” He guided his mount to the edge of the water. “Coming past! On your left!”

  Beltur just followed the captain, shrinking his shields close to himself and Slowpoke so that he didn’t inadvertently unhorse any of their own rankers.

  By the time they began the turn to the west along the south side of the point, Laugreth and Beltur were again in the van, and Beltur could see that the armsmen scrambling out of the flatboat seemed endless. Only half of Third Squad remained mounted and trying to stem the flow of attackers from the boat.

  Beltur wondered where Fourth and Fifth Squads were, but as he rounded the tip of the point he saw why they weren’t there. Gaermyn and his squads were engaged in a melee in support of the middle of the Eleventh Foot. That was where the Gallosian foot went.

  Beltur’s eyes went back to the grounded flatboat. Possibly one in three of the attackers carried a staff-like weapon that had a spear-like point at the end with an ax blade below the point. On the other side of the pole from the blade was an iron hook.

  “They’ve got halberds! Get them before they can form up!” shouted Laugreth.

  Beltur wondered what in the Rational Stars such an unwieldy-looking weapon was for until he saw one of the men with it slash a horse’s neck, then jerk a ranker out of the saddle with the hook. He also saw that the men with the weapons were forming into a squad. If they get formed up … He didn’t finish the thought, but urged Slowpoke toward the group, riding ahead of Laugreth and the two combined squads toward the rapidly forming Gallosian squad.

  “Third Squad! Clear the way!” he yelled, angling Slowpoke to try to cross the front of the halberd squad.

  Even so, he knocked aside one Spidlarian ranker before he expanded his shields slightly and cut across the front rank of the halberd carriers. Slowpoke’s momentum carried him a good thirty yards farther along the mudflats on the north side of the point before Beltur could slow the gelding and then turn. By the time he did, the flatboat had pushed off and the remaining rankers of the first three squads were dispatching the surviving Gallosians.

  Beltur glanced back toward the rise in the middle of the point and then farther east.

  The fighting was dying out, and the Gallosians seemed to be withdrawing, at least for the moment. Beltur reined up, uncertain of what he could or should do.

  Possibly a glass passed before there were no more Gallosians standing, or anywhere near, so far as Beltur could sense. Beltur looked at the sun, well past midafternoon. How can it be that late?

  A ranker rode toward Beltur, leading a mount with a body draped over the saddle and roughly tied in place. As the rider neared, Beltur swallowed. The body had wavy blond hair. Beltur looked dumbly at Zandyr, seeing the level but deep slash across the side of his neck.

  “Ser,” the ranker said to Beltur, “the undercaptain says his body has to go back to his people. His father’s a councilor or something.”

  “What happened?”

  “I don’t know, ser. We lost half the squad fighting the bastards coming off the boats. Excuse me, ser.”

  “Carry on.” Beltur nodded, still thinking about Zandyr. He’d been so enthusiastic about taking on the flatboats … and now, like that, he was dead.

  Beltur wasn’t certain how much time passed before Laugreth issued another order. “Company! Stand down. For now. The Gallosians have withdrawn half a kay or more.”

  Beltur dismounted and stood beside Slowpoke, eating the last of his bread, interspersed with swallows from his next-to-last water bottle. He didn’t eve
n remember finishing the ale in the second bottle.

  Almost absently, he watched as Laugreth sent off a ranker as a messenger. Then he drank more ale. He almost didn’t notice as Gaermyn appeared at his elbow. “Oh, ser … I didn’t see you.”

  “At least you’re standing today.”

  “I tried to be more careful.”

  “It would have been a lot worse, the captain said, if you hadn’t broken that halberd squad.”

  “I’ve never seen a halberd before. It just seemed … what had to be done.”

  “Keeping the boat from landing all those troopers was likely what turned things.”

  “From what little I saw, your support of the foot did that,” Beltur replied.

  “We would have been flanked and slaughtered if they’d been able to land all the troopers on those two big flatboats. Let’s say it took all of us.”

  Beltur could accept that.

  Sometime after fourth glass, a messenger delivered a dispatch to the captain, who read it, then motioned for Gaermyn and Beltur to join him. “Because of our losses, we’ve been recalled. Third Recon will be taking our place, if it’s necessary.”

  Beltur rode back toward the piers and the barracks, again beside the captain. Finally, after they had ridden for a time, he said, “Zandyr … I was surprised … I just didn’t think…”

  “At first, you never do,” replied Laugreth. “But it’s war. People die. The only thing is that they die in different ways … and for different reasons. Some get burned by chaos. Some get unhorsed and trampled. Some die with a single slash or cut, and some strangely live through a score of wounds. But some people die. That’s war.”

  All those deaths because the Prefect wants more golds, and the Council doesn’t want to pay them? Was that enough reason for rankers, or Zandyr, to die? And Beltur also had to admit that he’d never really liked Zandyr. That only made it worse, in a way.

  Neither he nor Laugreth had much to say on the ride back, and once the captain dismissed the company to stabling and quarters, Beltur rode to the stables, where he dismounted and led Slowpoke to his stall. Beltur could hardly see straight after grooming Slowpoke, but the feeling came from physical exhaustion, rather than from having too little order left. At least, that was the way it felt, since he didn’t have any flashes of light across his vision. Just before he left the stall, he saw the two iron arrows, still in place in the holder.