Disciple of War Disciple of War (Art of the Adept #4) - Michael G. Manning Page 0,68

by enemy fireballs.

Emory grinned. “But I took out five of the enemy casters! The enemy has been neutered!”

He wanted to pull out his hair. “And that means exactly jack if your army is massacred while you do it.”

“The meat shields served their purpose.”

Will came withing inches of losing his reserve and striking the young man. “I used to be one of the men who stood in such a line,” he growled. “And now that they’re dead, what do you think is happening?” He mimed the motion of a spearman. “While you were ignoring the defense, your shield wall was incinerated. Now the enemy spearmen are busy turning you into a colander.”

Emory’s mouth clamped shut and his cheeks began to redden, but he didn’t reply. Will was tempted to berate him further, but the man was actually one of his better students. He wanted him to learn, and humiliation would only make the young nobleman more stubborn. Instead, he called out to Burke Leighton. The humbler student had turned out to be just as promising as Will suspected. “Come here, Bug!” When the short man got closer, Will asked, “How many of your section are still alive?”

“All but one,” said Bug with mild embarrassment. “I wasn’t quite quick enough.”

It was better than anyone else did, though, thought Will. “You did well. Why did you set your shield as far forward as you did? The extra five feet would cost you more turyn.”

“I was testing an idea,” answered Bug.

“Explain.”

“Even though we don’t have an enemy line to face off against, I was imagining what it would be like if we did. It occurred to me that if there was an opposing shield wall, I could pull their teeth if I put my defensive shield between their shield men and their second rank where the long spears are. If I have to use a spell to stop an attack, why not also use the opportunity to give our soldiers an advantage for a short while?”

Will nodded approvingly. It wasn’t something that had occurred to him, but it made perfect sense. “Make sure you share that with the others. Everyone needs to learn that force-walls aren’t just a defense, but a means of controlling the battlefield.” He glanced at Emory and noticed that the nobleman seemed to be paying close attention.

Bug nodded, then asked a question of Emory. “Can you show me the spell you used? It looked as though you modified it.”

Emory nodded. “I got the idea from the light-darts spell we learned. Even if it’s just practice, it made sense to me that we could adapt the multiple-missile functionality to our practice spells.”

The rest of the day was exhausting, but Will could see that his fellow students were making headway. Not only were they learning the basics of army formations, they were beginning to think about their roles in the matter. More than once, Will found himself surprised when someone came up with an idea that had completely missed him.

That evening Will was tired as he walked home, his mind occupied with thoughts of Selene. She had finished adapting to the third compression weeks ago, but even though he had finally been able to remove the source-cage, she was still unable to use spells. Well, that wasn’t exactly correct. Every time she attempted a spell, she grew so weak that it took hours for her to recover. Her body was converting enough ambient turyn to keep her functioning normally, but it wasn’t able to pull in extra when she needed it. Naturally, that worried him, but Arrogan had told him that it wasn’t entirely abnormal, though he couldn’t say how long it would last.

“William.”

He stopped, surprised by the female voice that called out to him. Turning to his left, he saw her standing beside a tree near the path. For a moment he thought she was a stranger; despite the familiar red hair and green eyes, Tailtiu’s demeanor was entirely different. Ordinarily she exuded an almost overwhelming predatory sexuality, and even though she didn’t look much different, its absence made her almost unrecognizable. “Tailtiu?” he asked uncertainly, studying her for a moment.

The faint smile that crept across her face was uncharacteristically timid. “I’m not really sure anymore.” Her face was the same, and there was no sign of scars or other physical changes. He squinted at her dress for a moment, trying to focus on the skin that lay behind the illusion of clothing that she had adopted to avoid notice within