“We’ll have to practice that,” Mari said. “None of us expected that Roc to move that fast when it came at us.”
“But I could not—”
“Alain, it’s all right.” Mari spread her hands slightly and tried to smile. “I’m all right. You can’t do miracles.”
“If you need a miracle, then I must,” Alain said.
She could tell that he meant it with all of his heart, which both warmed and scared her at the thought of what risks he might run. “I need you. Don’t forget that.”
Alli gave Mari back the far-talker, then shook her head, wincing as she rubbed one arm. “Remind me not to wrap reins around my hand again. We’ve gotten these horses used to the sound of guns, but not to the presence of Rocs. We ought to fix that.”
“I’ll add it to the list.”
Shouts sounded. “Lady Mari! Are you all right?”
Mari sighed heavily. “Somebody get me another horse. I’m going to have to mount up so everyone can see that I’m not hurt. Much.”
She had just struggled back into the saddle with Alain’s help, raising one arm to wave reassuringly to her soldiers, when Asha returned. “The Mage is dead,” Asha said.
“Was he dead when you got there?” Mari asked, settling herself and wishing that riding wasn’t so hard on her thighs and butt.
“Yes. He was not a Dark Mage, who would have revealed fear. His face showed nothing.” Asha’s impassive voice left no hint of whether she was praising the dead Mage or just reporting what she had seen.
“There are other Mages in the city,” Alain said, looking toward Minut.
Mage Asha nodded. “I sense them, too. They wait. We will find them. Stay with Elder Mari, Mage Alain.”
“I’m twenty years old,” Mari grumbled as she watched Asha and the other Mages ride off. “I wish the Mages wouldn’t call me Elder.”
“It is a mark of their respect for you,” Alain said.
“Then they can call me Master Mechanic!”
“Mages do not consider Mechanic titles to be marks of respect,” Alain said.
“I’m looking for agreement, not explanations,” Mari told him.
General Flyn called, sparing Alain the need to reply. “Lady? That was quite a show above the hill! You are all right?”
“Yes, General,” Mari said. “You can assure our soldiers that I am fine. Almost fine, anyway.”
“In that case, I recommend that we enter the city as soon as possible before anyone who might oppose us inside Minut has time to prepare.”
“Let’s do that,” Mari said. “Princess Sien? Are the forces of Tiae ready to enter Minut?”
“We are,” Sien replied. Six months ago, non-Mechanics were not supposed to even know that far-talkers existed, let alone how to use one. But Mari had made a point of providing Flyn and Sien with two of the few new far-talkers available at the moment. Some of the Mechanics following her had been scandalized, but most had simply accepted it as part of the rebellion against the strict rules by which the Senior Mechanics had run both the Mechanics Guild and the world of Dematr. And it made coordinating actions on the battlefield a lot easier. “We shall enter the east gate as agreed upon,” the princess added.
“My infantry will enter the west gate,” Mari said, “and I’ll lead my cavalry into the north gate. Princess, General, be advised that some of my Mages are already entering the city in search of enemy Mages Look for my armbands to know if the Mage is friendly.”
Mari waved to the cavalry remaining with her. “Mount up!”
Alain had found another horse and climbed into the saddle, his lack of expression betraying how upset he was. Mari had noticed that when Alain was really unhappy he reverted to his Mage training to reveal no emotions. He brought his horse next to hers, clearly determined not to let any other danger threaten Mari.
Knowing that no words of hers would comfort him, she called to Alli. “We’re heading into the city. Hold here with the big guns.”
Her cavalry formed up around her, and Mari and Alain started down the slope in a rattle of harness and nervous snorts from the horses.
Directly before them lay the bodies of those who had helped three warlords terrorize the city of Minut. Mari looked away, but she couldn’t avoid smelling the tang of blood that filled the air. She took deep breaths through her mouth, trying to block out the smell and the cries of the badly hurt and dying. Memories assailed her, of other fights and others hurt and killed, of moments when death had felt very close to her and Alain. Such things no longer frightened her, she told herself. The daughter of Jules could not afford to feel or show fear.
A small force of soldiers from Tiae was wading through the mounds of fallen, making sure that every one of them was dead. Mari was pleased to see that General Flyn had also sent out a force, this one finding wounded enemy fighters and taking them prisoner instead of finishing them off. As her force rode toward the north gate, the cavalry sent out earlier returned to swell the numbers of soldiers around her. How had she gone from being a Mechanic to this?
A Roc landed heavily between Mari’s cavalry and the city, a man in a Mechanics jacket almost falling off on his way to the ground before the Mage left her mount with considerable more grace. Calu came jogging to meet Mari and Alain while Mage Alera held her Roc. “I don’t know whether that was the scariest thing I’ve ever experienced or the most fun I’ve ever had,” Calu gasped when they met. “But I don’t want to do it again right away.”
“Was Mage Alera’s Roc hurt in the fight?” Mari asked.
“Not much. She said he used up a lot of power, though, and needs to sleep.” He nodded back toward the Roc, catching his breath. “That’s what Mage Alera calls it now when Swift goes away.”
Mari saw the Roc disappear into a shower of dust that also vanished, leaving Mage Alera standing alone.
“Do you need me to go up on another one of the Rocs?” Calu asked, sounding willing but not particularly enthusiastic.
“Calu, if I sent you up again right away Alli would kill me,” Mari said. “She’s back there with the guns. Why don’t you go join her so I can use your far-talker to let her know if we need her guns again while we’re taking the city?” That had been an easy call to make since Mari could see the other two Rocs coming in to land as well. For the moment, her ability to see things from high above had run out of Mage power.
Calu continued through the ranks of advancing cavalry, heading for the hill where Alli’s artillery sat silently menacing the city. Mari tried to use her far-seers again to catch sight of her infantry approaching the west gate and the soldiers of Tiae nearing the gate to the east, but the jolting of her mount’s progress kept throwing off her attempts. And of course the mostly intact walls of the city kept her from seeing what new developments might await her army and the army of Tiae inside Minut. “Alain, I am really glad that you’re beside me right now.”
* * * *
Mage Alain of Ihris was very upset. He did his best to deny the emotion, to block it out, as he had been taught when an acolyte. Certainly no one watching him, except another Mage, would have guessed how unhappy he was. He knew that anger served only to distract and to weaken him, and would only aid his and Mari’s enemies.
But he could not stop being angry with himself for having failed to protect Mari from the Roc’s attack.
It was not until Mage Alera’s Roc landed in front of them that Alain jerked himself out of his anger enough to realize how much it had distracted him. He had not even been aware that Alera was coming close.
And they were about to enter a city where threats to Mari might lie along every street and around ever corner, while he focused on a danger that no longer existed.
Some of the things the Mage elders had taught him had been false, but they had surely been right about the danger of selfish emotions like anger. He had no trouble recalling the brutal methods used to teach him to master and ultimately deny his anger, and now Alain used that experience to prepare himself for the task th
at lay ahead.
He breathed deeply as he banished his negative feelings to a place where he could no longer sense them. Alain glanced at Mari to see if she had noticed his self-absorption. Mari’s feelings always lay so close to the surface, so easy to read, yet she retained depths he was still trying to grasp. At this moment, though, she was so distressed by the battle’s casualties that it had driven many other concerns from her mind.
But as the column approached the north gate of Minut, Mari looked over at Alain, the question in her eyes easy to see.
“My foresight does not warn of danger,” Alain said. “But that does not mean danger does not exist.”
“We can hope,” Mari said.
The north gate of Minut showed the scars of decades of war and neglect. One side of the great gate was wedged open. The other side had fallen to lie askew over piles of rubble where one of the former guard towers had been destroyed years before.
The commander of the cavalry called out orders, and forty soldiers urged their mounts forward.
Mari looked at them, surprised. “Why are they going in first? I should be leading this.”
“This is still the front, Lady,” Colonel Tecu assured her. “You will be leading the advance from the front. Just not as far in front.”
“That is not right,” Mari said. “I should not face any less risk than anyone else.”
The colonel, who looked to Alain as if he would rather be leading a charge against a solid wall of pikes than trying to out-argue Lady Mari, hesitated in his reply.
Which gave Alain time to speak. “Colonel, where will you ride?”
“Next to the Lady,” Colonel Tecu said.
“Behind those forty cavalry?”
“Yes, Sir Mage.”
“Why are you not in the front rank?”
Tecu’s face hardened. “If there is any question regarding my courage—”
“No,” Alain said, realizing that this was one of the things commons and Mechanics could interpret as criticism. “There is no question of your courage. What I ask is, is there a reason why the commander rides a little farther back?”
The colonel relaxed and nodded. “I understand your question now. Forgive me, Sir Mage, for misinterpreting it. Yes, there is a reason. I need to be far enough forward to lead my soldiers, but far enough back that I can see what is happening and give the necessary orders to those both ahead and behind. If I am in the very front rank, I will be fully engaged with whatever is happening to those soldiers.”
“It is your responsibility as commander of the force,” Alain said.
Mari gave Alain a sour look. “All right, Sir Mage. I get it. We’ll ride with the colonel.”
“Your courage is unquestioned, Lady,” Colonel Tecu hastened to assure her. “Everyone knows that you have personally faced and defeated dragons and trolls. And now a Roc as well.”
“I’ve had some help,” Mari said. “A lot of help. I don’t want to expose those cavalry in the lead to risks that I am not sharing.”
“You are here with us, Lady, and I think those cavalry would rather have you alive than in the front rank with them.”
The first forty mounted soldiers having entered the gate, Mari, Alain, and Colonel Tecu rode after them, accompanied by the cavalry bearing both the standard of the new day and the banner of Tiae. They were followed by the remaining nearly one hundred and sixty cavalry.
Alain studied the pavement inside the gate, an act which he did without thinking. The paving stones of the street bore no resemblance to the fitted stone blocks on which his foresight months ago had shown Mari lying at some point in the future, her jacket wet with blood and herself apparently near death. That did not mean that Mari was safe here. It only meant that one particular future would not occur here. There were plenty of other future events which could take place at any time, any one of which might result in Mari’s death before she reached whatever place contained those particular stone blocks.
The wide boulevard that stretched from the north gate of Minut was eerily deserted. Ahead, Alain could see a scattering of bodies and shattered paving where Mechanic Alli’s shells had struck. Piles of trash, debris, and garbage lined the street, some obviously having been slowly decaying for more than a decade and others more recent. The heaps of junk narrowed the broad street, in places forcing the leading cavalry to ride only three soldiers abreast.
The buildings lining this once-grand thoroughfare had been majestic as well: multi-storied structures featuring the curves and arches favored in the southern cities, their facades of carved stone and hardwood doors now pocked with decay and damage. There did not appear to be a single intact window remaining, just shards of glass clinging precariously to the remnants of frames. In some cases the broken windows had been boarded up, but in many places the vacant windows gave free access to the dark interiors. Weeds and grass sprouted from between paving stones and anywhere else dirt had managed to accumulate, and small yards and gardens had degenerated into tiny, overgrown tangles of jungle.
Alain caught an occasional glimpse of a rat darting from cover to cover. He did not see any cats or dogs, and suspected that any such had long since become victims of Minut’s lack of regular food supplies from the outside.
After the crash of Mechanic weaponry and the clash of metal on metal as soldiers fought hand-to-hand and sword-against-shield, the silence in the city felt oppressive. All Alain could hear was the jingling of harness, the clop of horseshoes on the pavement, and the blowing of the horses. The cavalry rode slowly, each soldier searching the buildings beside and ahead for any signs of trouble.
Alain heightened his sense of Mari riding next to him, hoping that would help trigger his foresight to warn of any danger to her.
A low call of warning came from the front rank of cavalry. Alain saw men and women coming out from the ground floors and down the entry stairs of some of the buildings ahead. No weapons were visible, and none of them wore any armor. Alain gained an impression of weathered dignity, as if the men and women were rocks which had been worn by hardship but still endured.
They stood at the edge of the street, amid the piles of rubbish, watching silently as the cavalry approached.
Alain swept his gaze over them, then across the buildings to either side, aware that most of the cavalry had fixed their attention on the people ahead.
He spotted a small movement in a second-story window.
A blotch of blackness appeared over that window, his foresight finally offering some warning of danger.
He knew the distance to that window would make for a long crossbow shot. But Mechanic weapons could hit an individual target at such a range. And his foresight said the danger existed now.
Alain lunged toward Mari and pulled her down with him as they both fell from their horses, the boom of a Mechanic weapon filling the street. Their startled mounts danced away as a soldier in the ranks behind them cried out and was knocked from his saddle as the bullet intended for Mari instead struck him.
Getting back on one knee, ignoring the horses plunging around him, Alain held out one hand and focused on creating the illusion of immense heat above it. He built it as strong as he could in a very short time, then imagined the heat not above his hand but in that window, where the end of the Mechanic weapon had once again appeared, pointing toward Mari.
Stone cracked and wood charred black in that window.
Alain heard a muffled cry and the weapon disappeared from view.
Colonel Tecu shouted orders, sending a dozen cavalry galloping ahead to dismount at the door to the building and charge inside, weapons at ready.
Alain, breathing heavily from the sudden exertion, helped Mari to her feet.
“Did you get him?” she asked, deadly calm in the way Mari could become in an emergency.
“I believe so.”
Some of the nearby cavalry had caught Mari’s horse. Now they held it while she swung back into the saddle of the nervous mare. Alain heard relieved calls as the rest of cavalry
caught sight of Mari unharmed.
The soldiers sent into the building reappeared, one carrying a Mechanics Guild rifle and the others supporting a man with blackened clothing and hands who hung unresisting between them. “Is he dead?” Colonel Tecu called furiously.
“No, sir! Not yet, anyway! Passed out from pain or shock or both, we think!”
The cavalry column rode forward to meet the returning soldiers, who held their prisoner up for Mari to see. “A killer hired by the Mechanics Guild,” Colonel Tecu commented.
Mari stared at the man’s face. “No. He’s not wearing the jacket, but he’s a Mechanic. I saw him once, several years ago. He was part of a team who came to my Guild Hall and took away a Mechanic who had been too vocal a critic of the Guild leadership. He’s one of the Mechanic assassins.”
“We can finish him now, Lady!” one of the captors cried.
“No,” Mari said. “We’re not warlords. We don’t murder the helpless. See if our healers can help him. Maybe he’ll provide us with some worthwhile information.”
She turned to Alain. “You saved my butt again, Alain. And you’ve been smart enough not to say ‘I told you so’ about me riding farther back.”
“You have taught me much,” Alain said. “He may not be the only assassin in this city.”
“I know. Stay close.”
Only then did Alain notice that the people who had come out into the street earlier had not moved. Even across the small distance between them Alain could see the fear in their faces, but they stood frozen in place.
Colonel Tecu had noticed as well. “Odd that they didn’t run when the fighting started. Of course if they had, we would have thought they had known about the assassin going after the Lady.”
Alain finally understood. “They have learned to stay still when confronted with danger. Running creates an impression of guilt, and for wolves or humans of wolfish mind a fleeing prey creates an incentive to chase and kill.”
Tecu nodded slowly, his eyes on Alain. “I understand, Sir Mage. After so many years under the thumb of warlords and their arbitrary dealing of death and injury, these people have learned not to attract the wrong kind of attention. Like helpless animals, they simply freeze in place and hope the predators will pass them by.”
The Servants of the Storm Page 3