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It was not merely his overwhelming prowess in battle, however, that made them retreat. Stunned by the ferocity of his attack, the wide-eyed Mimbrate knights drew back. He wheeled then, chopped an upraised mace neatly in two and rode the bearer of the mace into the ground, horse and all. When only the butt remained, Garion smashed the knight from his saddle with the flat of the burning sword. He drove directly at one startled knight, chopping the amazed man's lance into foot-long chunks as he worked his way up the weapon's shaft. As always, despite its vast size, the sword in his hand had no apparent weight, and he wielded it with blinding speed. The Orb of Aldur blazed forth its dazzling bluelight, and the sword itself immediately burst into flame. It needed a bit more, however, something suitably spectacular to penetrate the solid bone Arends used for heads.Īlmost negligently, Garion discarded his invincible lance, reached back over his shoulder and drew the mighty sword of the Rivan King. Then he wheeled his charger and unhorsed two more so quickly that the vast clatter they made as they fell merged into a single sound. On his first course through the center of the startled, milling knights, he hurled three of them from their saddles in rapid succession. Garion had no real desire to run the sharp steel tip of that lance through anybody. About the only real difference lay in the fact that his lance, unlike theirs, would not break, no matter what it encountered and was, moreover, enveloped in a kind of nimbus of sheer force. The lance he carried looked the same as those with which the Mimbrate knights were attempting to kill or maim each other. It must be admitted that he cheated just a little during the encounter. Garion took in the situation at a single glance, scarcely pausing before riding directly into the middle of the fray. Enthusiastically, the brainless, steel-clad young nobles crashed into each other, littering the turf with splinters from the shattered remains of their lances. Several armored knights from either side were tilting in the center of the field as the two armies looked on approvingly. As was the age-old Arendish custom, a number of personal challenges had been issued, and those matters were in the process of being settled as a sort of prelude to the grand general melee which would follow.
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When he arrived, he found the two armies drawn up on opposite sides of a broad, open meadow. As he thundered through the green Arendish countryside, past neat, thatch-roofed villages and groves of beech and maple, he cast an appraising eye toward the gray, scudding clouds overhead, and the first faint hints of a plan began to form in his mind. He would need to startle them with something. Garion knew that he was going to have to get their attention, and Arends on the verge of battle are notoriously difficult to reach. A wide path was opened along the cobblestone streets as the angry King of Riva passed through, and the town gates stood wide open for him. The citizens of the town of Vo Mandor, which lay just beyond the walls of Mandorallen's keep, were as prudent as the servants within the walls had been. He selected one and then set off at a thundering gallop. They brought him several, stumbling over each other in their haste to comply. "Somebody bring me a lance," he commanded. Laboriously, he hauled himself into the saddle of the huge roan warhorse upon which he had arrived, adjusted the great sword of the Rivan King in its scabbard across his back, and looked around. The servants in Mandorallen's castle took one look at Garion's stormy face as he strode into the courtyard below and prudently melted out of his path. "That's better," he said and went on down the stairs. I have a long arm, Nerina -a very long arm." "Oh," he said, looking over his shoulder at her, "don't get any ideas about jumping as soon as my back's turned either. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go stop that nonsense out there." He turned and clanked toward the stairs. I'm sure you'll forgive me for not letting you kill yourself. "I didn't have the advantages of a noble upbringing, so I have these little lapses from time to time. "I was raised on a farm in Sendaria, my Lady," he reminded her.
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"This is most unchivalrous of thee, my Lord," she accused him. She looked at him helplessly, tears coming to her eyes.