The Mage-Fire War (Saga of Recluce)

by Modesitt. Jr. , L. E.

  Definitely a rationalization. Except every place you’ve been there’s been bloodshed because other people wanted to use you for their ends. And Haven wasn’t an exception. The cost is just higher.

  As for the comparison to the Duke … he wanted everything his way and killed anyone who disobeyed. We just want to live without being harassed and taken unfair advantage of, and that’s different.

  Different enough to stay put in Haven, for better or worse, and pay the price?

  The price was already high. All the dead Hydlenese troopers, the burned houses and dead townspeople—and his nightmare was suggestive of just how much higher it might well get. But if you leave and walk away, won’t the same thing happen again?

  Only if you insist on being free.

  And that was the problem, because there was a price for everything, especially freedom and control of their own lives.

  He didn’t even bother to sigh as he got out of bed.

  “Are you all right?” asked Jessyla.

  “As right as I can be under the circumstances. I’m not quite as sore. I think I can sense farther … and it’s not raining.”

  “After last night…” she ventured.

  “In some ways, last night and the last eightday have made some things much clearer.”

  “Clearer.”

  He pulled on his trousers, then laughed, harshly. “We might as well pay the price now. I don’t see the costs getting any less.”

  “I think you’re right about that.” After a moment, she added, “But that means others will pay dearly as well.”

  “They’ll have to. Otherwise, we’ll just be the ones paying.” He pulled on the older black tunic. “When is Jaegyr going to deliver the ale?”

  “Between midmorning and noon.”

  “Then I’ll clean the barn and deal with the horses right after we get something to eat. I don’t see the next squads arriving until midafternoon, maybe later if they have a lot of wagons.”

  “I’ll feel happier when Raelf arrives,” replied Jessyla. “You’d do a better job of leading than Cheld.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “You’ve been in a real war as a junior officer. He hasn’t. He felt arrogant to me, and he doesn’t like women.”

  Beltur almost asked how she knew, but choked off the question before uttering a word. She would have felt what he scarcely noticed.

  Beltur had just finished a thorough cleaning of the barn, including grooming all the horses, when he saw Jaegyr’s wagon approaching the house. He walked up to meet the cabinet maker.

  Jaegyr’s eyes widened slightly as he looked at Beltur.

  “The black is what looks to be a permanent bruise as a result of the last encounter with the Hydlenese troopers.” Beltur offered the words conversationally.

  “Julli said you’d been bruised, but…” Jaegyr shook his head, then quickly added, “The widow said that she’d like back the empty keg when you have time.”

  “We’re not quite done yet. It might be a day or so.”

  “I don’t think she’s in any hurry. It’s not as though you’re going anywhere.”

  “How do you think people feel about the Council and the Hydlenese attack?”

  “Most are angry at the Duke. A few blame the Duchess for ignoring Haven for so long. Most think you mages did the best you could. Mages or not, there’s only three of you, and one being as much healer as mage. Some feel better now that there are more Montgren troopers here.” Jaegyr lowered the wagon tailboard and hoisted the keg. “In the kitchen?”

  “That’s right. Next to the kitchen cistern.” Beltur led the way, opening the rear door and stepping aside as Jaegyr carried the keg in and set it beside the cistern. Jessyla watched from beside the stove.

  “Julli heard about this.” Jaegyr pointed to the cistern. “She said she’d like to have one.”

  “It makes life and cooking much easier,” said Jessyla.

  “This one’s sort of makeshift,” admitted Beltur. “Gorlaak might have told you. We had to reinforce the floor to carry the weight. The good ones are all glazed and fired clay, but no one around here has a kiln big enough for that.”

  “Might be worth thinking about. Well, better get the other keg over there.”

  “How’s the foundation coming for your new shop?”

  “Haven’t had a chance to crush and fire the limestone to make the mortar yet.”

  Once Jaegyr had left, Beltur turned to Jessyla and said humorously, “Now we have enough ale for another battle.”

  “You can’t do what you did again,” said Jessyla. “It will kill you.”

  The cold certainty of her words chilled Beltur.

  “You’ll have to let the Montgren and Lydian troopers take the brunt of any attack. This is really their fight. If they’d supported Haven more, Duke Massyngal wouldn’t even be thinking about starting a war over it.”

  “Probably not, but we wouldn’t be here either, most likely.”

  “It’s never simple, is it?”

  Beltur shook his head. “Not where we’re concerned. Oh … and that reminds me. I need to get out more silvers for Tulya to pay Bythalt for feeding the horses stabled at the inn. I’m glad she’s keeping track of all that.”

  “So am I. It’s something we don’t have to do, and she’s good at it.”

  After going to the bedroom and undoing the order locks on the metal box, Beltur extracted six golds and ten silvers, then replaced the box in its hidden and shielded recess before returning to the kitchen. “How is Tulya doing?”

  “She’s fine. Why do you ask?”

  “You know very well. She is with child, early as it is. And you know a great deal more about that than I do.”

  “So far as I can tell, she’s fine.”

  “Has she talked to you about it?”

  “Not yet. I’m sure she will when she feels like it. She lost two, you know, early. That’s another reason why she probably doesn’t want to talk about it, especially to Lhadoraak. That’s why…”

  “You didn’t want me to even hint at it.”

  “He likely knows, but he wouldn’t want to say anything until he believes things will work out.”

  That, unfortunately, also made sense to Beltur. “Do you want to go over with me?”

  “Of course. There might be something I could help Tulya with.”

  “Along with keeping me from committing myself to more than I should?”

  “That has happened occasionally,” Jessyla replied cheerfully.

  The two walked across the street. Before they even reached the door, Taelya had it open and was announcing, “Uncle Beltur and Aunt Jessyla are here.”

  Lhadoraak immediately appeared. “Is something wrong?”

  “No,” replied Beltur. “I just realized that I needed to give Tulya more coins to pay people, and since it’s actually quiet for the moment, it seemed like a good time.”

  “I came to see if she needed any help in fixing supper,” added Jessyla.

  “She’s in the kitchen.”

  “I was showing Father how I could aim little points of chaos,” declared Taelya, “while I was still holding a shield. You always hold shields when you use order and chaos, don’t you, Uncle Beltur?”

  “I do. It’s a very good habit to get into holding shields as much as you can.” Beltur looked to Lhadoraak. “I take it you encouraged her.”

  The older mage nodded.

  “Thank you. I should have started her on that.”

  “You’ve had your hands full.” Lhadoraak headed toward the kitchen.

  Tulya looked up from the small side table. “What brings everyone to the kitchen? Making a shepherd’s pie doesn’t require a Council meeting.”

  “It’ll be good,” said Jessyla.

  “I hope so,” replied Tulya. “More root vegetables than meat, but there’s enough, and meals have been irregular.” She glanced to Beltur inquiringly.

  “As I was telling Lhadoraak, I wanted to bring you som
e golds and silvers so you’d have enough to pay everyone. Is six golds and ten silvers enough for now, or did I lose track of something?”

  “That should be enough through the end of next eightday. We’re paying more for feed for the extra horses, both to Bythalt and the widow, and for the four couriers. Well, we were, but now they’re billeted with the rest of the troopers.”

  “And missing comfortable beds, no doubt,” said Lhadoraak.

  “We’d just about run through what Raelf sent us, hadn’t we?” asked Beltur.

  “I’d have to look at the ledgers, but I’d say it was close.” After a moment, Tulya asked, “What about the ale?”

  “We’re paying for that,” replied Jessyla. “It doesn’t come from the golds for the Council.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “Very sure,” declared Beltur. Ale is little enough, especially after what I’ve gotten us all into. While Tulya talked, Beltur had been studying her with his senses, but from all he could determine, Tulya and her barely conceived child both seemed to be fine, and that was a definite relief, especially after what Jessyla had told him.

  “Can I do anything?” asked Jessyla.

  “I’m sure I can find something for you to do, after you shoo our consorts and Taelya back into the parlor to work with Taelya some more.”

  Lhadoraak chuckled. “We don’t need to be pushed out. We’re going.”

  The three withdrew from the kitchen and moved to the open space in front of the hearth.

  “Taelya,” said Beltur, “show me what you were doing just before we arrived.”

  She nodded and immediately created a shield around herself, then gathered chaos into a point half a yard beyond the shield, almost touching the stones of the chimney that framed the hearth.

  “That’s good, Taelya. Now, I’d like you to try something else. Can you use tiny bits of order to form the chaos into a point, like a triangle?”

  The girl frowned.

  Beltur didn’t sigh. Instead he went to the firebox and picked up a split chunk of wood and set it in the middle of the hearth. “Aim the chaos the way you were at the wood. Right in the middle.”

  Taelya concentrated. A point of chaos flared into a brief flame, then died away, leaving a charred circle roughly two digits across.

  “Now, I’m going to do the same things, with the same amount of order and chaos, except with the chaos ordered into a point.” Beltur concentrated. The chaos flared into a flame, slightly larger than Taelya’s, but the flame didn’t die away. After a moment, it started to grow. Beltur snuffed it out with order. “Do you see the difference?”

  “Yes, Uncle Beltur.” The girl’s tone was resigned.

  “Taelya,” said Lhadoraak in an edged tone of warning.

  “I’m sorry, Uncle Beltur. It’s harder that way.”

  “It works better that way. I wouldn’t be asking you to do it otherwise.”

  Lhadoraak looked sidelong at Beltur, but said nothing as Taelya began to concentrate.

  On the first attempt, Taelya’s shield collapsed as she struggled with the triangular structure of ordered chaos. The second time, the triangular form of chaos sagged into a momentary bright flame before even coming close to the log on the hearth.

  “Watch what I do, with your eyes and your senses,” said Beltur gently. Very carefully and slowly he created a shield much like Taelya’s, then formed the triangular structure and moved it to touch the log. This time, he let it burn for a while, to show Taelya that the fire created by chaos persisted long after the chaos had dispersed. Then he snuffed out the flame with order. “You try it now.”

  It took Taelya three more tries before she could do what Beltur had requested. By then she was sweating, and trembling when she finally released the shield.

  “Excellent!” Beltur smiled broadly. “You did well.”

  “Father…”

  “She needs something to eat,” Beltur said.

  “Tulya, Taelya’s headed into the kitchen. She needs something to eat.”

  “I worked her hard,” added Beltur.

  Once Taelya had left the front room. Lhadoraak moved closer to Beltur and said in a low voice, “You’re teaching her how to throw chaos bolts without her realizing it.”

  “With far better control than most whites ever have,” replied Beltur. “She’d have that ability in any case. This way, she’ll have control.” Also, if worse comes to worst, she’ll have a chance at defending herself and her mother.

  Less than a glass later, Beltur was back at his house, reading more in The Wisdom of Relyn, while Taelya was resting, although Beltur had the feeling that Taelya had fallen asleep even before he’d left. He’d read more than twenty pages, carefully, when he sensed Jessyla approaching the house.

  She opened the door, stepped inside, closed it, and walked over to the bench. “So … what do you think about Tulya?”

  “She looks fine.”

  “Beltur … you know very well what I meant. And don’t tell me that you didn’t sense her.”

  “As far as I can tell, she and the child are healthy. I couldn’t sense any non-natural chaos anywhere. There aren’t any order or chaos ties or blocks.”

  “Good.” Jessyla sat down on the other end of the bench facing him. “What about you?”

  “I can almost sense as far as I could. I’m holding normal shields. They wouldn’t last very long in a fight or against a strong white mage.” Beltur paused, then asked, “What about the black band around my head?”

  “It’s more like a black skullcap, and it hasn’t changed color. You can tell as well as I can that your natural order/chaos is balanced there as well as anywhere.”

  “You’re telling me that it’s not going away.”

  “Not so far.”

  “There’s nothing about anything like it in Relyn’s book.”

  “Did you think there would be?”

  “No … but I could hope.” Beltur frowned. “There’s a rider headed this way. The scouts have either sighted the squads from Weevett or some troopers from Hydlen.”

  “Montgren.”

  Beltur smiled. “Do you know that? In the way that you sometimes do?”

  “No. This time, it’s a considered guess.”

  Considered guess or not, the scout who reported to Beltur was Taasn, and Jessyla’s guess was correct. Two quints later, Undercaptain Cheld was in the front parlor of Lhadoraak’s house, along with Waerdyn, while his squad leaders were on their way with the troopers—and five heavily loaded supply wagons—to the Brass Bowl and the East Inn.

  “It’s rather strange to be meeting in … a house,” said Cheld, his eyes lingering on Beltur’s forehead before taking in the sparse furnishings and mismatched chairs. “What happened to the Council House?”

  “The Hydlenese battalion burned it before we could stop them,” replied Beltur.

  “I thought you were mages.” Cheld’s tone was not quite scornful.

  “We are. We were more interested in saving townspeople and their homes, and in killing the attackers, than worrying about the Council House.”

  “How did you fare in saving local houses?” The question was perfunctory, almost uninterested.

  Lhadoraak offered a withering look before saying, “Beltur saved quite a few dwellings. He also killed at least four hundred troopers.”

  “I find that difficult—”

  “Begging your pardon, ser,” interjected Waerdyn, “but I counted the sabres we collected from the dead. There were something like three hundred and eighty. We figure the townspeople grabbed a score before we got to them. Now, if you don’t like my count, you can go over to the armory in the mage’s cellar and count for yourself. They’re piled head-high. And, ser, seven of them are officers’ sabres.”

  Cheld looked hard at the senior scout.

  Waerdyn looked back levelly.

  “I see.” Cheld’s tone became much less edged. “I don’t understand how they fired any houses at all if you killed so many.”

&nb
sp; “It’s very simple, unfortunately,” said Beltur. “There are three of us. There were five hundred of them. We’re blacks. We can’t throw massive chaos bolts. We had to chase down and kill each trooper one at a time. While we were doing that, they did fire eleven or twelve houses and some outbuildings.” It hadn’t been exactly like that, but it was essentially true to Beltur’s limitations.

  Cheld looked to Waerdyn.

  “Yes, ser. It took the mages most of a day. It took us days to collect the gear and weapons, and burn the bodies.”

  “Also,” added Jessyla, “none of us could do any magery for several days after.”

  “Considering we did destroy and rout a full battalion with three black mages and five armsmen, it wasn’t too shabby a performance,” added Lhadoraak.

  “So far as we could determine,” Beltur continued, “we killed the majer in command and most of the officers.”

  “That didn’t count the company we drove off an eightday earlier,” added Tulya. “They lost almost a score of armsmen then as well.”

  “Given what we did, especially to his officers, it’s likely that Duke Massyngal will send a considerably larger force before that long,” said Beltur. “Most likely with mages. That will require us to deal with the other mages, and for you and whatever forces arrive with Majer Raelf to deal with the Hydlenese troopers.”

  Cheld moistened his lips. “I can see why the Duke might not be pleased. To lose almost an entire battalion to a town supposedly undefended or defended only by black mages … and all the officers … that … that isn’t often done. He is reputed to be rather intemperate.”

  “So we’ve heard,” said Jessyla.

  “That’s why we requested the squad leaders of the squads already here post scouts some distance out from Haven along the possible approaches to the town,” said Beltur, knowing full well that he’d more than “requested” such postings.

  “I’m sure you can see,” added Jessyla, firmly but pleasantly, “why we decided that spending any effort to save the Council House wasn’t a high priority.”

  “Ah … I can see that. I’m certain that Majer Raelf will also. Is there anything else I should know?”

  “I assume that the majer briefed you about the Hydlenese who attacked wearing Lydian uniforms.”