Wizard of the Grove by Tanya Huff

against the Melacians.
    The pike that had killed Payter’s horse still stuck from its chest. It had reared and come down on the point, driving it deep into its own heart, then it had dropped like a stone, giving its rider no time to get free. His legs were trapped beneath the double weight of horse and armor.
    â€œLeave me, Commander,” he gasped, “and take my idiot Half with you. You can’t free me.”
    Rael’s brows rose and Hale would’ve recognized the tone as he said, “Oh? Can’t I?” He squatted, shoved his hands beneath the horse, and lifted. His gauntlets slid free. The weight he’d intended to throw under the horse shifted, and he sat suddenly, nearly doing more damage to Payter in the process. Cursing under his breath, he yanked off the offending gloves and shoved them under Payter’s unresisting hands. This couldn’t take too long or the Melacian archers would begin to make their presence felt. He squatted again and gripped the still warm body under shoulder and haunch. Then he stiffened his back and straightened his legs.
    Slowly the horse lifted a foot, then two feet off the ground.
    â€œCan you get out?” Rael grunted, his knees braced under the saddle.
    â€œUh . . . yes, Commander . . .”
    â€œThen do it, damnit!”
    â€œYes, Commander!” The man crabbed backward on hands and elbows.
    When Payter’s feet came clear, Rael stepped back and the horse crashed to the ground. He grabbed his gauntlets, grabbed the man by the shoulders, and flung him up and over the pommel of his Half’s saddle, hoping his armor would cushion the blow. Using the dead horse as a mounting block, and completely disregarding the weight of his own armor—although something in his muscles said he’d pay for all this later, mythic parentage or not—Rael launched himself into his own saddle, set his lance, and screamed: “Back!”
    The circling Elite formed a wedge, pointed their heads toward the rest of the company, and began the fight back. Rael and Rutgar bracketed the rescued Pair and readied to move out.
    I’ve done it!
Rael crowed. He beat away a spear that came a bit too close.
Nothing can stop us now!
    Suddenly Rutgar threw up his shield and an arrow ricocheted off the rim. “Cover!”
    One of the Melacian longbowmen had found a bit of unoccupied high ground. He stood, safely out of range of return fire, but close enough to Rael and his men to be able to choose his targets with care.
    From a standing start it would take a moment or two to fight their way clear and get moving. During that moment they might as well have targets painted over their hearts.
    â€œWhy, you . . .” Rael’s jaw went out and his eyes blazed behind his visor. In a single fluid motion, he stood in his stirrups, twisted, and flung his lance at the bowman.
    It seemed that both armies watched it fly, and watched it land, point buried a foot in the earth and the Melacian bowman hanging off the end.
    The squad was virtually unopposed as they rode back to join their company.
    Doan met Rael at the top of the hill. “You seem to have taken the heart out of them, Commander.”
    Rael turned to look and, sure enough, the Melacians were leaving the field, forming shield lines and retreating with the Ardhan army harrowing them every foot of the way.
    â€œA bit showy.” Although Doan’s tone was dry, he couldn’t stop his lips from twitching back into a smirk. “But definitely effective.”
    So ended the Ardhan army’s third day in the valley.
    *   *   *
    â€œIt took them a while,” Doan nudged the prince and pointed, “but they’ve finally learned. They’ve moved their pikemen out of squares and down both sides of the valley. We try to charge into that and we’ll skewer ourselves.”
    Rael raised a hand to shade his eyes and Rutgar, who was forcing a new