Exile's Honor

Alberich was aware of movement, massive movement, behind them. The reserve troops were moving out, to the right and the left, the cavalry first. Ahead of them, on the swiftest steeds of all, two wings of Heralds, already speeding out of sight over the crest of the ridge, like a flock of swift, white birds. Behind them, the troops pulled out, leaving their rear unprotected.

'Of course I realize it,' Sendar growled, and drew his sword, with a bright metallic scrape. It glittered wickedly in the sun, matching the hard gleam in the King's eyes. 'We need to end this—now. Or we won't have a country left when we win the war.' There was something wild in the King's eyes that Alberich recognized; something he had felt himself, down in the taverns of Haven....

That feral look matched the savageness that he felt, when he let himself work out his frustration on the bodies of those two-legged beasts that populated Haven's criminal underground.

But he was only one Karsite Herald, and replaceable—not easily, perhaps, but replaceable. He could— marginally—rationalize risking himself. This was the King of Valdemar.

He's not— Alberich thought with sudden terror.

:He is!: said Kantor, grimly.

No—Sendar couldn't—Someone had to stop him!

And as Alberich struggled to pull himself up, the Companion gave a kind of twist and a shove with his nose just under Alberich's rump. That got Alberich most of the way into the saddle, and a gut-wrenching effort of arms and legs got him seated securely enough to turn and try to stop Sendar before he could move—

But the King was already gone, halfway down the hill, though Alberich had no idea how he could have gotten that far in so short a time.

Too late—He could do nothing for Sendar. But Sendar was Talamir's responsibility. Alberich had another.

'Stay here!' he roared to Selenay and her bodyguards, who were only just starting to react. The King's Six had—Vkandis be thanked—acted in concert with the King. They must have realized the moment he drew his blade what he intended to do; they rode with him, knee and knee, with Talamir at Sendar's right and Jadus at his left, a flying wedge that penetrated the ranks of those between them and the struggling front lines. A roar went up as the King, his banner bearer, and his escort of Heralds and Guards (and Healer!) entered the zone of fighting.

Alberich and Myste imposed themselves as a barrier between Selenay and the path to her father's side; the rest of her escort crowded in, hemming her and Caryo in among them. 'Stay here!' he bellowed at her, trying to get her attention. 'Selenay! Heed me!'

She had no intention of doing any such thing. He could see it in her eyes, wild with fear and grief beneath her light helm. She hit out at them with mailed fists, flailing at them as she sobbed and cursed; she sawed at Caryo's reins, she even tried to fling herself off Caryo's back and follow on foot. But there were no divided loyalties among those who were protecting her. However suicidal Sendar's action might be, however much their hearts and minds cried out to follow him and protect him, their duty was with Selenay. To keep her safe. And if there was one thing that a Herald understood—or a Guardsman—

—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