The Mage-Fire War (Saga of Recluce)

by Modesitt. Jr. , L. E.

  “He probably won’t.”

  “Beltur…”

  “It’s one thing to be surprised by our enemies. It’s another to be surprised by those supposedly on our side.”

  Beltur could sense Lhadoraak’s discomfort, but he felt he had to go on his instincts in the matter. Besides, Cheld reminded him all too much of Zandyr. And while Cheld might be as arrogant … he likely isn’t as stupid. Beltur could certainly hope so.

  As Beltur had suspected, Cheld was at the circular table in the public room, with three of the four squad leaders. None of them looked anywhere near the two mages who appeared in the archway.

  “What was the news?” asked Beltur.

  Cheld looked up from the table, an expression between annoyance and resignation on his face. He did not speak immediately.

  Beltur just fixed his eyes on the undercaptain and waited.

  “It was a dispatch from Majer Raelf.”

  “It might be useful for us to know what the majer had to say.”

  “It’s a military dispatch.”

  “I’m sure it is,” replied Beltur, walking toward the table. “And what it deals with affects not only you and your men, but the town. I assume the Duchess and the majer are expecting that we will lend our efforts to the defense of Haven. Is that not so?”

  “What does that have to…” Cheld broke off his words. “You’re not suggesting that you’re just going to leave … after all you’ve done to create this mess?”

  “Demons, no,” replied Beltur, stopping short of the table. “But first, we didn’t create it. The neglect by the Duchess and her predecessors did. We were brought in to repair that neglect. Second, no one knew, or bothered to tell us, that we would be facing an attempt at an armed takeover of part of Montgren by Hydlen. Third, no one informed us that the Duke of Hydlen apparently turns into a hog-headed madman whenever he’s thwarted. Under those circumstances, I trust you understand why we might be a little concerned about not being immediately informed.” Beltur smiled pleasantly. “Especially since we’ve been putting our lives on the line for the last three eightdays.” He thought that was correct. He hadn’t actually counted, and it was close enough.

  “Ah … I can see…”

  “So what did the majer, Lord Korsaen, or the Duchess have to say?” asked Beltur pleasantly, smiling after he spoke.

  “You won’t tell anyone else?”

  “Only the other two councilors. They’ve also put their lives on the line.”

  Cheld took a deep breath, then picked up the sheet before him and handed it to Beltur. “It might be best if you read it yourselves.”

  Beltur took the sheet and began to read. After the honorifics and cautions, the basic information and instructions were succinct.

  Majer Raelf will arrive in Haven on oneday, with the last squad from the Weevett garrison, along with two other companies, one from Woolsey, under the command of Captain Reynaard, and one from Northfeld, under the command of Captain Knutwyl. In addition, three companies of heavy mounted troopers from Lydiar, under the command of Lydian Majer Rojak, will accompany this force.

  Majer Raelf is the overall commander, but until his arrival, take all possible steps to avoid provoking an all-out attack by the Hydlenese, should they arrive prior to Majer Raelf.

  In addition, bear in mind that, in the interim and throughout all evolutions, considerable deference must be employed in coordinating with the mage-councilors of Haven, in consideration of the fact that the overall success of the mission will likely depend on their ability to significantly reduce the effectiveness of the Hydlenese forces.

  Below the flowery closing that ended the dispatch, the signature and seal were those of Raelf.

  For a moment, Beltur wondered at that, but then decided that either Raelf had wanted it impersonal, or that the impersonal style was a military custom. He had no idea which might be the case, because the dispatch was the first Montgren dispatch—in fact, the first military dispatch of any sort—that he’d actually seen.

  He did manage not to smile. Clearly, Raelf had some concerns about Cheld as well. He handed the sheet to Lhadoraak and said to the undercaptain, “It’s a perceptive dispatch, and I can assure you that we have no interest in provoking the Hydlenese, at least not until Majer Raelf arrives and we have all consulted on what he believes to be the best strategy and tactics to use against the Hydlenese.”

  Lhadoraak nodded and returned the sheet to Cheld. “I take it that your sentries have not yet seen any sign of Hydlenese forces?”

  “Not so far.”

  “Have you ever worked with Lydian forces before?” asked Beltur.

  “I asked the majer that, and he told me that it hasn’t been done at any time since he’s been an officer. Possibly not ever. I’d judge that the Lydians are worried.”

  They should be, but sending just three companies suggests they’re not worried nearly enough.

  “From what Lord Korsaen said,” said Lhadoraak, “I gained the impression that your troopers are considered … more capable than those of Lydiar.”

  “More capable than those of Hydlen as well.”

  Left unsaid was the fact that capability only went so far if an enemy had vastly greater numbers.

  Beltur inclined his head to Cheld. “Thank you very much for your openness. We are working on ways to conceal your men so that they can attack from more advantageous positions. Specific tactics will depend on how the Hydlenese deploy their troopers and what the majer and you think will be the most effective use of your men.”

  “You can conceal large groups?”

  “For a limited time, yes. It also depends on whether they have mages, and what kind.”

  Cheld frowned.

  “Black mages can usually see through concealments.” That wasn’t precisely true, Beltur knew, but the reality was more complex. “White mages seldom can discern concealments at any distance, but so far as we know, in recent years, only Elparta has used black mages in battle.”

  “In recent years?”

  “Nylan and Saryn of the black blades were both black war mages. There hasn’t been a black mage that effective in hundreds of years,” replied Beltur.

  “Beltur is a bit modest,” said Lhadoraak. “He’s likely almost as effective as Saryn was, but besides him, there haven’t been any others. The rest of us blacks, with the possible exception of Jessyla, are restricted to protecting and concealing.”

  “The healer … she can kill with magery?”

  “She can,” Beltur admitted. “But only one trooper at a time.” So far.

  “Should you learn anything that bears on the possible battle to come,” said Lhadoraak smoothly, “we would appreciate your letting us know immediately.”

  “And thank you for sharing the dispatch,” added Beltur. “We do appreciate it. We won’t take any more of your time at present.”

  “I will certainly make sure you know anything of import, Mages.”

  Beltur was debating whether to challenge that when Lhadoraak spoke.

  “We appreciate that. Good day, Undercaptain.”

  Beltur just nodded before he and Lhadoraak turned and walked back toward the stable.

  They’d covered a few yards before the older mage said, “He wants to feel in control, and arguing with him will gain nothing.”

  “You sound like Meldryn,” replied Beltur, thinking of the older mage who, with his partner, had taken him in when he’d arrived in Elparta with nowhere to stay. “He has good sense about people. I still worry about him.”

  “Well … if we do the impossible, you can always invite him here,” replied Lhadoraak.

  “First, we have to do that.”

  “You’ll manage.”

  “Aren’t you the optimist.”

  “There’s no point in being anything else now,” replied Lhadoraak.

  And that … Beltur realized as he stepped back outside into the steaming and sweltering heat … was absolutely true.

  XLIX

  De
spite the heat, Beltur and Jessyla did sleep slightly later on eightday. After breakfast, he turned to her and said, “We need to take a ride.”

  “I can’t. Well … not until after eighth glass. Vartella is coming, and I need to look at the burn on her arm.”

  “She’s the one…”

  “Who barely escaped the fire in her cot that was set by the Hydlenese,” Jessyla said.

  Left unsaid was the fact that the woman had been raped and left for dead.

  Another victim of our limited abilities to deal with large numbers of troopers. Yet Beltur still hadn’t been able to figure out what else he could have done any sooner than he had. No matter what he learned about magery, it seemed as though the more he learned, the more there was to learn. And whatever you do is never enough. But then, perhaps what anyone could do was never enough—except that thought could rationalize failure.

  “Why do we need to take a ride?” asked Jessyla.

  “So that I can show you the places I’ve scouted out, tell you what I think might work, and see what you think. You need to know all that because we’re likely going to need to be in different places at the same time.”

  “What about Lhadoraak? Doesn’t he need to know?”

  “I’ve shown him some of the places, those where he’s likely to be most useful. That’s what we did yesterday.”

  “The ones where he only has to conceal and protect?” asked Jessyla.

  Beltur nodded.

  “Does he know that?”

  “He does. I think he’s relieved that I’m not asking him to use magery to kill people, directly, that is.”

  “That’s an odd way to put it.”

  “We both know that if he protects troopers, there are more of them left to kill Hydlenese. I don’t see much difference between enabling killing and killing.”

  “You didn’t tell him that, did you?”

  “No, I didn’t. We need him too much. Is it that wrong to let him deceive himself?”

  “He’s not deceiving himself. He’d prefer being able to kill people who threaten Tulya and Taelya. He just can’t do it. So he’ll do what he can.”

  With Jessyla’s words, Beltur felt almost petty. He said nothing for several moments. “You’re right. That makes him braver—”

  “Stop frigging comparing!” snapped Jessyla. “You’re both brave. You both will do all you can to protect Haven and those you care for. What you can do is different. We’re all different. Leave it at that.”

  Beltur felt even worse. “I didn’t mean…”

  “I can feel that … but how do you think Lhadoraak feels? He knows that all he can do likely won’t be enough to protect Tulya and his children. Think about that.”

  Thinking about that didn’t make Beltur feel any better.

  “And no, there’s nothing you can do about it. Neither the world, nor chance, nor order and chaos are fair. You had the unfairness to lose your entire family and the fortune to have the raw talent to become a supremely talented mage, but you worked at it. I had the fortune to meet you, because I’d never have found anyone who cared enough for me and who could teach me to be a mage—and I had to leave my mother to keep you … and now we’re in a position that could kill both of us. Poor Lhadoraak did nothing wrong. You saved his daughter, and she became a white mage, and they threw him and his whole family out of Spidlar. They say there’s a balance, but I don’t see it. I see lumps of fortune and misfortune thrown out as if by chance, and we’re left to sort it all out the best we can.”

  “There is a balance there,” replied Beltur. “Every time you get something good, you pay more for it.”

  “That’s not balance. It’s the world taking revenge for the fact that you got some fortune.”

  At that moment, Beltur sensed Vartella coming to the front door, and he turned to Jessyla. “I’m going to saddle the horses so that we can leave as soon as you’re finished with Vartella.”

  “You don’t have to hide in the barn. You aren’t the one who attacked her, and you couldn’t have done any more than you did. Just come back up when you’re finished.”

  Beltur understood that her words weren’t exactly a request. “I’ll do that.” He nodded, turned, and left the house by the kitchen door.

  While he didn’t dawdle in readying the horses, he didn’t exactly rush. Even so, when he walked back to the house he could tell that Vartella was still there, but that the two appeared to be in the kitchen. So he entered by the front door, only to see that the two were walking toward him from the kitchen.

  “Vartella,” said Jessyla warmly, “this is my consort, Beltur.”

  “You’re the one who killed all the Hydlenese hogs, aren’t you?” Vartella’s brown hair was short, well above shoulder length, only because she’d likely needed to cut it that much to remove the singed and fire-damaged longer locks. There were still faint traces of yellow across her cheekbones from the bruising she’d taken, and a new dressing covered most of her forearm.

  “Many of them,” Beltur admitted. “I’m sorry we couldn’t stop all the Hydlenese soon enough.”

  She looked at Beltur, taking in his face. “You at least tried. For all your trying, your wounds will always be visible. Mine will not.”

  “I understand, I think,” Beltur said. “In that respect, I’m sorry.”

  She just looked at him, almost incredulously.

  “People will understand, looking at me. They’ll never know what you’ve gone through, looking at you. That’s good in some ways, not in others.”

  “What do you know?”

  “I don’t know what you went through. I do know that I couldn’t save the man who earlier saved me, hard as I tried.”

  “How hard was that?” Vartella’s voice was edged.

  “Hard enough that I didn’t know whether he’d live for days,” replied Jessyla.

  “Then you might have the smallest idea, Mage.” With that, she stepped past Beltur and kept walking, to the front door and outside, closing the door surprisingly gently behind her.

  Beltur looked to Jessyla. “I probably shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “Sometimes there’s no good answer, dear.”

  “What should I have said?”

  “Perhaps just that you wished it could have been different.”

  Beltur nodded. That might have been better. After a moment, he asked, “Are you ready to go riding?”

  “I am.”

  After securing the house, the two walked down to the barn, where they led their horses outside and mounted.

  “Where are we headed first?” asked Jessyla.

  “I thought we’d ride to the square and then south past Vortaan and Ennalee’s stead to the road the raiders took.” Beltur eased Slowpoke onto the street and then north.

  Jessyla frowned as she joined him. “You think they’ll come that way?”

  “I think some of them will have to. That is, if they bring as many troopers as I think they will. The west road is too narrow, and if they bring several battalions they’ll be strung out in a column more than a kay long. If we blocked the road, a single company could tie up their entire force and they’d take heavy casualties even without magery. Their commander has to know that. So they’ll most likely attack in several places, not only to reduce their casualties but also to spread us out. They can get to that south road without coming that close to Haven.”

  “Unlike the back road to the north that runs from the Weevett road to somewhere east of Haven?”

  “I tracked that down. It meets a side lane a half kay east of town.”

  “That’s three ways. Are there more?”

  “If they want to cross the rocky uneven grasslands west of the forest that’s south of Vortaan’s place, that would make four. Those are the most obvious.” Beltur turned Slowpoke east on the main street.

  “They were scouting even before we got here,” Jessyla pointed out.

  “That’s true. But we likely killed most, if not all, of the officers who gathered
that information. Even if we didn’t, I suspect the commander of the next force is likely to do his own scouting.”

  “Then they won’t attack immediately?”

  “I’d be very surprised if they did, but that’s always possible. So we’ll have to be ready for that as well.”

  “What about shields?” asked Jessyla. “I think I might need to use shields the way you did.”

  “Can you just extend a thin part of your shields, close to chest-high?”

  “I’ve practiced that.”

  “You shouldn’t extend the edged shields more than a yard on each side.”

  “Yours were twice that.”

  “I’m a little stronger, and Slowpoke is a lot stronger than your mount. Also, even skirmishes with the Duke’s forces may be longer.”

  “Longer than what you did before?”

  “Possibly. That’s why we’ll both need to be more careful…” As they rode closer to the Brass Bowl, Beltur broke off his words and studied the inn, but it didn’t look any different, and there wasn’t a single sign of troopers. Obviously, Cheld had crammed all his men into the East Inn.

  The main square was largely empty except for a girl filling a jug at the fountain and the front of the quarters building where two men in patroller uniforms stood talking—Therran and Dussef, Beltur thought, although he and Jessyla weren’t close enough for him to be certain.

  “I take it you don’t want me to try what you did?” asked Jessyla.

  “Not unless you don’t have any other way to survive,” replied Beltur, adding quickly, “That goes for me, too. I almost didn’t make it after dealing with a few hundred troopers. I can’t see the Duke sending less than several thousand.”

  “You have something else in mind, don’t you?”

  “I have many things in mind. Most of them won’t be possible, but I’ll keep them in mind just in case.”

  “Stop being so evasive, dear.”

  While Jessyla’s voice was pleasant, Beltur could tell she was irritated.

  “Look … I can redirect lightning a bit, but I can’t create it. That means I might be able to do something if we have a storm, but we don’t get many storms. If they have white mages who throw chaos bolts, I can probably throw some of them back—but only until they realize what I’m doing.”