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the Lords of the West on the other flank charged. It was a wild, disorderly
charge, and for a while it only kicked up dust. Before the dust grew too
thick, though, Blade saw Lords of the East begin to turn their horses. They'd
already lost their chances of an easy victory. Now they faced a good chance of
a messy, unlordly death. Whatever loyalty they owed their King wasn't enough
to make them hold still for that.
At the bottom of the U, Fedron's banner still rose behind his pikemen. He was
trying to rally them. Blade was willing to leave that part of the fight to
stronger men on fresher horses. He led his Guardsmen back toward the baggage
and the water.
By now the shock of seeing Lords struck down by archers was wearing off.
Everyone who still had a voice seemed to be expressing an opinion. Most of the
opinions were what Blade expected.
"Unlordly!"
"Lawless!"
"An abomination!"
"The Fathers will not bless a victory won this way!"
"We fought properly, at least."
"Yes, but we can't allow ourselves-to gain by the victory, or-"
And then an exchange which froze Blade in his saddle:
"At least King Fedron fought a lordly battle."
"Yes. If we are to have a King, let it be Fedron. I'll swear no oath to
Handryg."
"My steel on that!"
"Yes, and my steel for anyone who says a word for Handryg. That-"
Blade's first impulse was to splatter the brains of those two idiots with his
mace. Then he realized that they probably had no brains, only firm prejudices,
probably shared by many of their fellow Lords.
Prejudices enough to create two factions in the Duchies: those who wanted to
swear allegiance to King
Handryg and those who preferred King Fedron. Only a miracle would keep the two
factions from coming to blows. Then there would be war all over again along
the Crimson River, a civil war likely to go on until the land was a barren
waste. All the deaths Blade had seen since he reached this Dimension would be
wasted, and thousands more would die.
Such a thought would have paralyzed most men. It made Blade think and move
faster than usual, even after a long day of battle. If King Fedron is dead,
nobody is going to be swearing anything to him. Then he looked down the battle
field to where the East Kingdom's banner still waved, and dug in his spurs.
As his horse gathered speed, Blade passed close to the Helper who held Cheeky.
With an eager cry the
Feathered One hurled himself through the air, landing on the head of Blade's
mount. The horse shied and
Blade reached down, meaning to pluck Cheeky loose and toss him back to safety.
But Cheeky refused to budge, clinging to the horse's ears until the animal
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started to rear.
All right, thought Blade. You, too, have more courage than sense.
The legends of later years said that the ranks of the enemy gave way before
Lord Blade Duke-Slayer as if by magic. Some stories said that the look in his
eyes turned men to stone, or at least made them drop their weapons. He
certainly looked dangerous enough, but the fact was that the East Kingdom's
pikemen were already breaking ranks when he rode up. He had to be careful not
to step on bodies or press too closely against men already turning to run, but
he wasn't in much danger from the men on foot.
The mounted Lords around Fedron might well have been another matter, but as
Blade approached them, Alsin ordered a general attack. He'd seen Blade ride
into the ranks of the enemy. Even if Blade was determined to die, honor
required the men of Nainan to try to save him. And then again, if he, Alsin,
didn't lead the attack, Chenosh would, and if Chenosh died, Alsin didn't even
want to think about what might happen.
So he attacked, and King Fedron sent his bodyguards forward to help the
pikemen. The Eastern king was almost alone when Blade rode up to him. He was
not turned to stone, though, and he didn't drop his sword. He was a warrior to
the last, and he nearly killed his opponent.
The two men circled each other on horseback, mace and sword crashing against
shields. On the fourth stroke the sword split Blade's battered shield and
numbed his left arm. Fedron drove his horse in close and his own mount snapped
at Blade's thigh. Blade felt the teeth dent his flesh through the mail.
Then Cheeky leaped to his master's defense, hurling himself onto the head of
Fedron's mount. He covered the horse's eyes, and it reared in panic. Fedron
was offbalance, and a sword stroke intended to split his enemy's head only cut
the air. Blade swung his mace and caught the King in the chest, as his horse
reared again and threw him backward. The combined force of horse and mace was
too much.
Fedron went backward out of the saddle with a scream. Before he could struggle
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