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denial； and the numbness that had fallen upon him like a blanket of fog when Ranald died was finally pushed away。
Blaise looked around； as if seeing the field clearly for the first time and in doing so he pushed past his inward griefs and accepted the role that lay waiting for him； the burden that had been his from the moment he'd claimed a crown。
He was manding the left flank； with him were Rudel and Fulk and the barons and corans of southern Arbonne； including Mallin de Baude。 Bertran and Valery held the centre； mostly with the men of Talair； and Thierry de Carenzu； with the corans of the east； was on the right。 As best he could tell…eyes narrowed in the sunlight…they were still holding ground on all fronts。 He could see Ademar in the forefront of the Gorhaut army； not far from Bertran in fact； though there were hundreds of men between them。 Galbert was beside the king； a black mace in his right hand。 Even as Blaise watched； his father leaned over in his saddle； huge； powerful； to hammer the mace into the skull of an Arbonnais pikeman。 The man didn't even have a chance to scream as his head was crushed。 He crumpled to the earth like so much spilled grain。
Men died in battle。 People one had known and loved died in battles。 You could not let that make you falter。 They were holding ground； but they were not going to do so for much longer。 Blaise； in the grip of a sudden clarity； made his decision。
And that same swift clear…headedness made him understand that this； too； was one of the things that came with the role on the world's stage that he'd claimed for himself： one gave orders in a battle such as this that could shape the destinies of nations。
It was true； it was about to be made true even now； and Blaise realized that he would have to accept that weight because his only other alternative was to withdraw into the shadows and die； betraying all those who believed in him。 He made his choice then； and prepared himself to answer for it before the god when his hour came。
Drawing back sharply from the crush at the front of the lines he wheeled his horse over towards Fulk de Savaric； gesturing urgently。 Fulk saw him ing and drew back as well。
〃We can't do this much longer！〃 Rosala's brother shouted over the roar of bat。 A man beside them fell； dropping his sword； clutching with both hands at an arrow in his throat。
〃I know！ Listen to me！ Pull your men back and try to flank around。 We'll hold as best we can。 Get in behind Ademar if you can！ Drive towards Bertran。〃
〃You can't hold here without us！〃 Fulk screamed。 There was blood on his face； dripping into his yellow beard。 Blaise couldn't tell if it was Fulk's own blood or someone else's。
〃Have to try！〃 he shouted。 〃Nothing else is going to break this up； and we can't keep fighting twice our numbers face to face。〃
He had another thought then and looked away from Fulk towards the front again。 He saw that Rudel was looking back at him； waiting。 They had fought beside each other often enough； it wasn't really a great surprise。 He saw his friend arch his eyebrows in silent enquiry； and Blaise nodded his head。
〃Do it！〃 he cried； and knew that Rudel understood。 His friend turned to a mercenary beside him and spoke a one word mand。
A moment later there came a fierce； ragged shout from Fulk's men of Savaric as over their heads； gripped by that coran beside Rudel； the banner of the kings of Gorhaut rose up to fly beside the standard of Arbonne。 Two of us under the same banner； Blaise thought。 Will it matter？
A moment later he realized； with a quickening of his heart； that it might。
〃Look！〃 Fulk shouted； pointing。
Blaise had already seen。
〃To me！〃 he roared； pulling at his horse's reins； driving towards the standard Rudel had raised。 〃In the name of Gorhaut； to me； men of Garsenc！〃
And as he screamed it at the top of his voice； he saw that there were indeed corans of his family estate； from the pany behind his father and Ademar； pulling back from the fight in the centre and making their way； swords uplifted in salute； towards him。
Ranald's last shouted words had been heard； Blaise realized。 And these men would have watched one of their own； Bergen of Garsenc； felled by a Portezzan as he prepared to ride back to them。 And sure； surely； there would be those among the corans he had grown up among who had not been filled with joy at the prospect of burning women and mutilating helpless men。
He saw his father turn； alerted by a change in the sounds behind him。 Galbert visibly checked at what he saw； then his own magnificent； stentorian voice rang out over the battlefield like the voice of doom； of a god； 〃Stop those men！〃 he trumpeted。 〃There are traitors among us！〃
Confusion reigned。 Some corans turned obediently in the Gorhaut ranks and began slashing at others who； moments before； had been fighting beside them。 In front of Blaise the warriors of Gorhaut turned towards the centre to see what was happening； and in the respite shaped by that brief hesitation the men of Arbonne pushed forward beside Rudel's hard…bitten mercenaries； fighting now beneath the incongruous banner of the kings of Gorhaut。 Blaise saw Mallin de Baude drive forward； first man into the gap。
〃Go quickly now！〃 he cried over his shoulder to Fulk。 〃We have a chance！〃
With no more words spoken； Fulk de Savaric barked orders to his captains and moments later…more swiftly than Blaise could have hoped…the men of Savaric had peeled back and begun swinging south towards the lake in a desperate attempt at flanking around。
It was going to have to be swift； Blaise realized grimly； as nearly half the men in their sector melted away。 Rudel looked back at him； grasped what was happening and； improbably； grinned。
〃It this some sort of vengeance upon me？〃 he cried； leaning over in his saddle towards Blaise。 〃For youthful sins I have long forgotten？〃
〃What else could possibly be guiding me now？〃 Blaise shouted back； moving his horse up beside his friend。 Rudel laughed aloud。 Then he stopped laughing； for the warriors of Gorhaut； seeing empty space open up before them and the numbers of their foes suddenly diminished； returned； with a collective cry and a new urgency； to their own assault。
After that there was little chance to do so much as look up； let alone assert leadership on any grand scale。 Battles were always like this at their peak； breaking down into islands of desperately close bat； the screams and the sweaty press of men and horses； the living and dying and dead； preventing any chance at grasping an overall picture。 Blaise lost sight of Mallin。 He knew Bertran must be holding in the centre； or they would by now have been under hopeless pressure from that side。 He knew this had to be true； but he couldn't spare a moment to look up and see。
The world shrank to the smallest； bloodiest dimensions； to a sword lifting and falling； the scream of a dying horse； the jarring impact of his blade on armour or the different sucking feel as it bit into flesh； an awareness of Rudel on his left side and another man； a mercenary he didn't know beside him on the right。 When that man fell； moments later； another coran pushed forward to take his place。 It was Hirnan of Baude； and Blaise belatedly understood that they were guarding him。 That he was no longer just one of the captains here。 He was the man in whose name the banner above them was flying。
That was the moment； really； when Blaise was made aware of what being a king might entail。 The knowledge came to him on that desperate battlefield as a weight and an exaltation； both。 The rash folly he had begun in Tavernel last summer and then continued in the fall…claiming a crown at the Lussan Fair…became； in that valley north of Talair； something tangible and fully incarnate for him。
A man with an axe appeared in front of him on a dark grey horse； Rudel Correze； with an elegant； almost casual movement in the saddle； slid his sword into the man's throat between armour and helm and Blaise watched him fall。 Hirnan immediately drove his horse forward to cut off the space in front of Blaise。
They were guarding him； he understood； at risk of their own lives。
In