A Memory of Light

Mat pointed his looking glass southward along the river once more, and frowned. There was a military camp set up just a few hundred paces opposite the ford, but it wasn’t the haphazard arrangement of tents that caught his attention. At the eastern edge of the camp was a large body of troops and their horses, just standing there. He picked out a figure pacing in front of the assembly, who appeared to be in a foul mood. Mat might have been missing an eye, but it was no difficult task to recognize Tylee.

Mat lowered the looking glass. He rubbed his chin, adjusted his hat and set his ashandarei on his shoulder. “Give me five minutes on my own, he said, then kicked Pips into a gallop down the hil , hoping that Tuon would let him go alone. For once, she did, though as he reached the base of the

rise, he could imagine her up there watching him with those curious eyes of hers. She seemed to find everything he did to be interesting.

Mat gal oped alongside the river toward Tylee’s location. Explosions rang out, painful to the ears, announcing that he had neared the heart of the battle.

Mat nudged Pips to the left and rode directly toward the pacing general. “Tylee, you Light-blinded fool! Why are you sitting around here instead of making yourself useful?”

Highness,” Tylee said, falling to her knees, “we were ordered to stay here until we were called.”

“Who told you to do that? And get up.”

“General Bryne, Highness,” she said, rising. He could sense the annoyance in her tone, but she kept her face under control. “He said that we were only a reserve force, and that under no circumstances were we to move from here until he gave the order. He said many lives depended on it. But look, you can see for yourself,” she said, gesturing toward the river, “the battle is not going wel .”

Mat had been too caught up with Tylee to see the state of affairs across the water, but now he gave the field a wide sweep with his eye.

While the damane still seemed to be holding their own against the Sharan channelers, the regular troops were clearly in a bind. The defenses on Brynes left flank downriver had completely broken down, and the soldiers there were being mobbed by Sharans.

Where was the cavalry? It was supposed to be protecting the flanks. And, as Mat had predicted, Sharan archers had moved out into the field and were sending arrows into Bryne’s cavalry on the right flank. It was all like a boil being squeezed, and Brynes troops were the boil about to pop.

This doesn’t make any bloody sense,” Mat said. “He’s spinning this more and more into a disaster. Where is the general now, Tylee?”

“I cannot say, Highness, I have people out looking for him, but so far there is no word. But I have reports that our side has had a major setback just south of here. Two large cavalry units of General Bryne’s have been wiped out by the Sharans just below the hil s on the border. It is said they had been sent there to relieve the marattidamane on the hil tops.”

“Blood and bloody ashes.” Mat considered this information. “All right, Tylee, we can’t wait around any longer. Here’s what we are going to do. Have Banner-General Makoti take the Second Banner right up the middle. He has to work his way around our troops fighting there and push back those Sharans. You take the Third Banner and swing around to the right flank; take out those archers and any other goat-kissers that cross your path. I’m going to take the First Banner over to the left flank and put a patch on those defenses. Get going, Tylee!”

“Yes, Highness. But surely you aren’t going to get so close to the battle?” “Yes I am. Now get going, Tylee!”

“Please, if I might make a humble suggestion, Highness? You are unprotected; let me at least give you some proper armor.”

Mat thought for a moment, then agreed that her suggestion was a prudent one. A person could get hurt out there, what with arrows flying and blades swinging. Tylee cal ed over one of her senior officers who seemed to be about the same size as Mat. She had the man remove his armor, which was extremely colorful, overlapping plates lacquered green, gold and red, outlined with silver. The officer looked bemused when Mat handed him his coat in trade, saying that he expected it to be returned at the end of the day in the same condition.

Mat put on the armor, which covered his chest, the back of his arms and the front of his thighs, and it felt comfortable enough. When the officer held out his helmet, though, Mat ignored him, merely adjusting his wide-brimmed hat as he turned to Tylee.

“Highness, one more thing, the marattidaynane . . .”

“I’ll deal with those channelers personally,” Mat said.

She gawked at him as if he were insane. Bloody ashes, he probably was. “Highness!” Tylee said. “The Empress . . ” She stopped when she saw Mat’s expression. “Let us at least send for some damane to protect you.”

“I can take care of myself just fine, thank you very much. Those bloody women would just get in my way.” He grinned. “Are you ready, Tylee? I would really like this over with before it’s time for my bedtime mug of ale.” In response, Tylee turned and yel ed, “Mount up!”