i wish i had a metal heart; i could cross the line
The attack comes not long after they're out of Demos, and it's a very poorly planned one, too, to Maryani's eye; all those knights on horseback against men on foot. It almost strikes her as a distraction of a sort, or some sort of game--but she hardly has time to think about it before Sparhawk is ordering the knights into formation and sending ( Read more... )
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If Martel weren't seeing it for himself -- and if he didn't have the experience he had -- then he'd hardly believe it; the surviving Lamorks vanish with a waver and a groan when Ulath fells their leader, leaving only the dead behind -- dessicated corpses, blood dry and bodies withered as if with years of age. He was no knight any more, and part of no formation, but he'd hardly been about to sit the battle out and he's there on his horse, angry and bleeding, when he catches sight of Maryani.
That they will be discussing, but for now there are other priorities -- Martel joins the rest of the group gathering by the Queen's carriage (Ehlana stands pale-faced, Danae in her arms), and leashes in his temper as best he can manage.
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Maryani comes up after re-settling the horse, neatly; it's wild-eyed and trembling, but fortunately uninjured, and the girl herself is sort of enjoying the adrenaline rush, but there are, as mentioned, things wrong with her. Regardless, while she might enjoy a fight, she doesn't enjoy risking children and people who didn't sign up for the show, so she's hard-edged when she comes over, and ignoring the blood coursing down her arm.
Otherwise she's fine.
Bevier had mentioned they were wearing bronze armor. That's strange in and of itself. She also didn't miss Khalad threatening that courtier, and Nourelle watching from her window with a monumentally amused expression.
"All right," Sparhawk says, "Who were they?"
"Lamorks, evidently. I doubt that anyone else would be able to speak Old Lamork." Ulath had taken care of the leader quite well, in Maryani's opinion.
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"But why would they be speaking in that language?" Tynian asks. "Nobody's spoken Old Lamork for a thousand years."
"And nobody's worn bronze armor for even longer," Bevier adds his contribution--as he notices Maryani, and frowns. Bevier's long held opinions tend to be less savagely addressed than Martel's, but they're no easier to miss.
"Somebody's using a spell I've never heard of before," Sparhawk says. "What are we dealing with here?"
"Something we need Sephrenia for," Martel suggests, rough and dry at once. He ignores the looks sent his way by one or two (guess which); that old argument is one nobody's explicitly touched since he was thrown out of the knighthood and now isn't the time.
"Isn't it obvious?"
"If it were, Stragen--" Martel bites down on that. "Make your point."
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"Somebody's reaching into the past," Stragen clarifies, "The same way the Troll-Gods did in Pelosia. We've got a powerful magician of some kind out there who's playing games."
Maryani...chooses this moment to swear violently. She is not exactly new to magic, and should have guessed, but she gets caught up in battle and blood and other things. Not properly Styric of her, she supposes, but then, she's only half Styric, as she tells Sephrenia plaintively every time the other woman raises an eyebrow at her violent ways ( ... )
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