The Mage-Fire War (Saga of Recluce)

by Modesitt. Jr. , L. E.

  “There was a report about that.”

  “We can show you the uniforms, all rather new, and all with Hydlenese sabres,” said Beltur.

  “That won’t be necessary. The Lydian majer might wish to see them when he arrives, though.”

  Lhadoraak smiled pleasantly. “We shouldn’t keep you longer, Undercaptain. I imagine you’ll have a great deal to do.”

  “But you might remind your men that the local women have suffered enough already,” said Jessyla, “and if they suffer from Montgren troopers, they won’t be pleased, and neither will we. Remember, we’re black mages, and we can tell who lies and who doesn’t.”

  Cheld managed not to swallow. “I will definitely make certain that word is passed. Now … if there’s nothing more.”

  “Thank you for coming, Undercaptain,” said Tulya pleasantly. “We do appreciate it. You understand, I trust, that the last several eightdays have been trying here in Haven.”

  “I can see that. We will do our best.” He smiled, if not entirely happily, then turned and made his way out. Waerdyn turned, just before leaving, and nodded.

  Once the door was closed, Lhadoraak said, “Do you think we were too hard on him? He’s only an undercaptain.”

  “He needed to hear it,” replied Tulya. “Waerdyn definitely thought so.”

  “The older rankers, like Waerdyn,” said Beltur, “usually know more than undercaptains. That’s why I listened, especially to the older squad leaders.”

  “That’s another reason why you’re still alive,” said Lhadoraak. “What do we do now?”

  “Prepare, as best we can,” said Beltur, “and watch … and wait.”

  XLV

  Oneday dawned cloudy, and by seventh glass, the rain was falling steadily. Since there was no thunder or lightning, Beltur didn’t have a headache, although the rain did keep him from sensing more than about a kay.

  “This rain is definitely going to slow down Raelf,” observed Beltur, standing in the kitchen, debating what he should do for the day.

  “If the Duke sends white mages, the rain will slow his army just as much, maybe more,” replied Jessyla.

  “It might slow his army, but not because his white mages are impaired by the rain. The Duke doesn’t seem to care much for anyone except himself.”

  “I’ve never understood how unpleasant and unpopular rulers hang on to power.”

  “Some don’t,” Beltur pointed out. “But the smart ones make sure that those close to them will suffer even more if something happens to the ruler. That’s one reason why some of the nastiest deeds are delegated to subordinates. That way, if something happens to the ruler, something bad is likely to happen to those subordinates. That gives them an incentive to support the ruler, or least support him while they’re scheming to replace him. And those subordinates repeat the process with those beholden to them.”

  “You’re talking about Gallos, aren’t you?”

  “That’s what I saw there, but Cohndar was starting to do the same thing in Elparta.”

  “Don’t you think some of that was Waensyn’s doing?”

  “Certainly. He also did the unpleasant tasks to ingratiate himself with Cohndar.”

  “What do you think will happen now in Elparta?”

  Beltur shrugged. “I couldn’t say. If Osarus stands up to Caradyn, things might get better. If not, they’ll get worse. I hope Osarus does, because if he doesn’t it won’t be good for Meldryn.”

  “That wouldn’t be good for anyone.” After a long pause, Jessyla asked, “Do you think Mother will have my letter by now?”

  “There’s no telling for certain, but I’d think so. It’s been three eightdays, and it is summer. That’s when there are more traders traveling.”

  “I just hope she and Auntie are all right.”

  “Even if it gets nasty for Meldryn, mages usually leave healers alone.”

  “Unless a healer has a mind of her own,” Jessyla pointed out.

  “I know where you got it from,” Beltur replied. “Your mother does have a mind of her own, even if she’s not quite so quick to decide as you are.”

  “I might not have decided any differently from her if I’d been in her boots.” Jessyla shook her head. “She’d love to hear me say that. But I do miss her. A lot. I don’t say it much, but she was always there for me.”

  “I miss my father … and my uncle,” Beltur admitted. “They both cared for me. They never said much, but they did. Uncle…” He shook his head, realizing his eyes were burning. “Sometimes … we don’t realize … until it’s too late. He was stern … but he was never cruel.”

  “He loved you in his own way. He had to.”

  Beltur swallowed, then nodded.

  “You don’t mention your mother much. Is that because you were so young when she died?”

  “I don’t know why I don’t remember much about her.”

  “You’ve never said much about her, besides her having long blond hair and singing to you. Can you tell me any more about her?”

  “Her hair was silver-blond. That’s how I remember it. Her voice was beautiful. At least, it sounded that way to me, and she always looked at me when she sang. She sang to me even when I wasn’t a baby.”

  “Why do you think that?”

  “I remember fragments of songs. There was one about catching a falling fire and holding it to the skies, and another about horses that spoke in the darks.”

  “In the dark, you mean?”

  “No, she sang about ‘the darks.’ That might be why I remember it.”

  “Do you remember more than a phrase from any of those songs?”

  “There’s one. She must have sung it often.”

  “Tell me the words. You don’t have to sing it.”

  “I don’t know … it sounds … strange. I’m not sure I remember it correctly.”

  “Beltur,” said Jessyla gently … but firmly.

  “The words … the ones I remember, they went like this …

  “Oh, my dear, my dear little child,

  What can we do in a place so wild,

  Where the sky is so green and so deep,

  And who will rock you to sleep …

  When your mother’s not here to sing

  And neither the bells nor the words will ring?

  But when the stars shine over the western sky

  Try to remember we all say goodbye…”

  Beltur stopped. “That’s all … That’s all I recall.”

  “It almost sounds as if…”

  “As if she knew she wouldn’t see me grow up,” Beltur finished.

  “You come from a family of mages … and some of them … they can see…”

  “You think she was like Ryba or Ayrlyn?”

  “Do you know anything about her parents?”

  “No. Uncle Kaerylt said that they died young, and it was better that way. He never would say more.”

  “And you didn’t ask more?”

  “When Uncle said he wouldn’t say more, he never did. I asked twice. The second time, he told me not to ask again. I think he must have promised my mother he wouldn’t say anything. They were very close.”

  “That’s so sad. You don’t remember any more?”

  “Once she said that some of the songs had been written for a lutar.”

  “I’ve never seen a lutar.”

  “Neither have I. I wouldn’t know what it looked like.”

  A silence fell across the kitchen.

  Finally, Jessyla spoke. “There’s always been something … different … about you. It had to have come from your mother. You don’t know anything more about her … where she came from, where her parents came from?”

  Beltur shook his head. “I’ve never said much because I never knew much. Because my father was an orphan child of two strangers no one in Fenard knew, I had no family to speak of, especially after he died.”

  “You have me now.” She smiled and took his hand.

  “I do … and I’m very glad
.” More than I can possibly tell you.

  XLVI

  The rains continued, on and off, through all of oneday and most of twoday. Even so, Julli delivered the patroller uniforms late on twoday, and Lhadoraak took them over to the quarters building, along with four sabres, since Graalur wasn’t totally recovered, although he’d asked Lhadoraak to be considered as a patroller.

  Threeday dawned clear and sunny, and when Beltur went down to the barn to deal with the horses and cleaning up the stalls, even at sixth glass he could tell that the day was going to be hot and damp, most likely hotter and damper than he’d ever seen, given that while Gallos got very hot, it was generally dry, and while Spidlar and Axalt were often damp, they weren’t as hot as Montgren had proved to be—and it was still well before midsummer.

  Since neither he nor Lhadoraak had seen Cheld by seventh glass, Beltur walked over to Lhadoraak’s and knocked on the door. When the older mage opened it, Beltur said, “We need to see what Cheld is doing. We ought to saddle up and ride to the inn, just in case.”

  “Just the two of us?”

  “For now. After that,” Beltur added, “we can see how Gustaan and the others are doing.”

  “I told those not patrolling the square to stay close to the quarters, except for breakfast.”

  “Good idea.”

  In little more than a quint, the two mages were riding along the main street toward the East Inn.

  They didn’t have far to look for Cheld. He was in the public room of the East Inn, seated around the large circular table with his squad leaders. Beltur didn’t recognize any of the squad leaders. He also didn’t see Waerdyn or any of the troopers with whom he and Lhadoraak had worked.

  “Mages … how good of you to come,” said Cheld in a tone more perfunctory than welcoming.

  “We thought we should see how you’re settled in,” replied Beltur, “and whether your men have discovered any signs of Hydlenese troopers.”

  “The scouts haven’t seen any signs, none at all,” said Cheld. “Isn’t it possible that the Duke doesn’t think Haven is worth the trouble?”

  “That’s always possible,” said Lhadoraak amiably, “but it’s a bit early to tell that. The battle that destroyed the Hydlenese battalion happened just ten days ago. It would take any survivors a good five days to get to Hydolar, and that would be without rain. Even if they ran into other troopers, after what happened, they’d likely hold off on mounting an attack until hearing from the Duke or whoever is the commander.”

  “The Duke has a marshal in command of his armies,” said Cheld.

  “Even if the marshal wanted to attack as soon as possible and left Hydolar the next day after a report, it’s unlikely that an army could reach Haven much before next oneday.”

  “That’s likely why Majer Raelf isn’t pushing to arrive any sooner,” said Beltur. “I’d think he wouldn’t want his main force worn down by travel. Did he give you specific orders about dealing with the Hydlenese?”

  Cheld looked as though he didn’t want to answer before finally speaking. “He said to avoid any pitched battles, if at all possible, and to make our presence visible at a distance.”

  “To give the impression of greater strength,” replied Beltur. “The majer struck us all as a very perceptive officer.”

  “He is that. Is there anything else?”

  “Just one thing … at the moment.” Beltur paused. “We would appreciate learning at the earliest possible time if you do detect any Hydlenese presence. That way, we will be able to determine the best ways to use magery in support of your forces.” Beltur smiled pleasantly.

  “You can be sure that you will know almost as soon as I do.”

  “Thank you, Undercaptain. We do appreciate you and your men being here.” Beltur inclined his head.

  Lhadoraak did as well.

  “Then we will keep you informed, Mages.” Cheld barely nodded.

  After they left the public room and walked to the stable where they had left their mounts, Lhadoraak looked to Beltur. “I think I’ll be much happier when Raelf arrives … or I would be, were it not for the fact that the Duke’s army will likely arrive soon after that.”

  “I have to say that I’d expected a bit more … something,” Beltur finished, not really sure what words would describe his expectations.

  “He’s still rather skeptical.”

  “I don’t think he’s fought in anything really bloody,” suggested Beltur. “Either that, or he’s never worked with war mages. I wasn’t about to ask whether he had, though.”

  Lhadoraak stopped at the hitching rail where the horses were tied. “What should we do now … besides wait?”

  “We need to think about ways to use what we can do to the advantage of the Montgren and Lydian forces in ways that tariff us as little as possible.”

  “That’s an excellent idea, but, at the moment, I’m not sure I can think of any. Can you give me an example?”

  Beltur almost frowned, but realized that, even in the battles for Elparta, Lhadoraak had basically been deployed to protect senior commanders. “How large a concealment can you create?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve never tried a large one.”

  “Do you remember when I threw a concealment over the brigands who were chasing us? What happened?”

  Lhadoraak nodded slowly. “They couldn’t see.”

  “What if we concealed the elements of a charge? Wouldn’t that disrupt matters? Both for the commander and for the troopers who couldn’t see?”

  “That might help.”

  “We could also conceal a company somewhere on the enemy’s flank so that they could mount a rear attack after the Hydlenese advanced.”

  “You’d have to brief Raelf on what his men would see, or not be able to see, and how to take advantage of it.”

  “We’ll have to brief him on anything we might do. Why don’t you think about possibilities? Ask Tulya. She might have a good idea, and I’ll ask Jessyla.” Beltur untied Slowpoke. “I’ll ride over to the quarters building with you.”

  As the two rode across the square, Beltur saw that Turlow was now in a patroller uniform, standing near the fountain, while Dussef was also in uniform and posted to the west, in front of the chandlery. Worrfan was already set up with his wagon and grindstone, as was Ennalee with her cart and produce. He also saw the brass-trimmed wagon of the spice merchant, whose name he struggled to remember. Then he belatedly realized that, as a threeday, it was market day, which was why Jessyla had earlier told him that she’d be going to the square.

  He shook his head. Clearly, his thoughts had been elsewhere.

  “Beltur!”

  At the woman’s voice, Beltur turned in the saddle to see Julli leading a horse and cart. “You managed to save some from your gardens?”

  “More than I’d hoped. Will your consort be here later?”

  “She said she would be. I don’t know when.”

  “Tulya will definitely be here,” said Lhadoraak. “I imagine they’ll come together. They usually do.”

  Beltur grinned and said to Julli, “That’s about the best we can do.”

  She smiled back. “I’ll save some things for them.”

  “Thank you.”

  “She’s a good woman,” said Lhadoraak after they had ridden several yards. “They’ve made our lives much easier. I’m glad you were able to save her and Jaegyr.”

  “So am I, but I couldn’t have done it if they hadn’t reinforced their house.” Beltur couldn’t help thinking about the houses that had burned, and those who had been killed, but he also knew that, because so many had left Haven over the years, the number of deaths had been lower than would have otherwise been the case. So far.

  When he dismounted outside the quarters building, Beltur sensed as far as he could, but the only riders he could detect were clearly the sentries posted by Cheld.

  Gustaan and Therran—and Graalur—were all in the main-floor common room of the quarters building when Lhadoraak and Beltur entere
d. Even from the doorway, Beltur could sense that Graalur’s arm was well on the way to healing. Graalur was wearing nondescript grays, rather than the Hydlen-green uniform in which he’d been captured, or the blue patroller uniform, possibly because he wanted to save it for when he was on duty.

  “What did you do with your green uniform, Graalur?”

  “Ser?”

  “I was hoping you didn’t destroy it.”

  “Ser,” interjected Gustaan, “we’ve stored a number of Lydian and Hydlenese uniforms in the armory under your house next to the captured weapons.”

  Beltur smiled. “Excellent. There’s always the possibility that we might need them. I hope not, but you never can tell.” Beltur wasn’t about to say that he thought the likelihood was almost a certainty, one way or another. “Turlow and Dussef look good in their uniforms. The square’s actually getting to look like a real market square.”

  “That’s because it is,” said Lhadoraak. “Now all we have to do is fight off the Hydlenese to keep it that way. So far, the Montgren troopers are behaving themselves.”

  “I’ve told the patrollers,” said Gustaan, “not to get into fights with the troopers, just to ask them if they want to deal with the mages who are the town councilors. I figured that might work better.”

  Lhadoraak nodded. So did Beltur.

  “You’ve dealt with officers from Hydlen,” began Beltur. “How long do you think it will be before the Duke’s forces show up?”

  “It’d just be a guess, ser.”

  “Your guess will likely be more accurate than either of our most considered judgments,” returned Lhadoraak cheerfully.

  “I’d be very surprised if it wouldn’t be at least another eightday. The road here from Hydolar’s not bad, but it’s narrow. That will slow down a large force, and if the Duke sends a force, it will be a large one.”

  “Do you think he’ll ignore Haven?” asked Beltur skeptically.

  “No, ser. From everything I overheard, he doesn’t like being denied at all. That’s another reason why he won’t rush. He’ll want to make certain he sends a force strong enough to crush us.”