Most of the noise was coming from sticks connecting with the Companions’ armor, since they weren’t wearing any padding over it, and he wondered if perhaps he shouldn’t order the armor off. When the day came that they began riding guardian on Selenay, there was no way to disguise what was essentially horse-armor, so the Companions would have to do without. If it was making the Companions dependent, possibly careless—

:It’s not; they just aren’t ready yet to have us dodging underneath them. Not with all that extra weight.:

Kantor’s assurance was all he needed; he stopped worrying about it. This was only the third session under armor, and they still weren’t used to it. Fortunately, the custom-made and fitted armor he had ordered up for them was going to be lighter than this stuff. Not as strong or protective, but it should easily be good enough against the kinds of light court-blades that the Prince and his friends sported, if Alberich’s worst fears came true.

And if the Prince and his friends elected to attempt to hire professionals rather than doing the dirty work themselves, Alberich would hear about it. There was no job involving dirty work in Haven that at least one of his personae didn’t hear about, either via the rumor vine, or directly.

If the Prince decides to hire out his evil work, wouldn’t it be a great irony if he approached me directly?

Just as he thought that, the melee surged toward his goal; he judged his moment, and as soon as they drew near enough to be a threat to the goal, Kantor charged the rider nearest him. The Companion’s powerful muscles surged under him. Kantor’s unusual weight and size—quite as large as any warhorse—was next to impossible for another Companion to stand up to. The best they could do was to try and turn aside at the last moment so that he slid along a flank—or to dodge out of the way.

But there was nowhere for this Companion to dodge to, and no room to turn. Kantor hit him hard, and the shock of the meeting jarred both his body and Alberich’s. They bounced back; Kantor anticipated the shock and caught himself without a slip. The other Companion’s hooves scrabbled desperately in the snow as he tried to stay upright; the rider dropped his stick, grabbed the hold on the pommel, and hung on grimly.

And Kantor charged again, while Alberich swung at the rider.

It was a short charge, more of a push, but the other Companion’s hind feet slid right out from under him, at the same time that Alberich’s stick connected with the rider’s helm with a solid clang that vibrated up the stick and into Alberich’s arm.