The Mage-Fire War (Saga of Recluce)

by Modesitt. Jr. , L. E.

  “Why would that—”

  “Each chaos bolt could take out a score of men if not more, but I can’t concentrate chaos like that. So if they stop throwing chaos bolts, they stop losing men. That means they’ll lose some men to our blades, but not as many as to redirected chaos. Since we’re outnumbered, they can afford to lose a lot more troopers than we can.” As they left the square, Beltur’s eyes focused on the charred cottage some fifty yards ahead, a structure that he didn’t recall seeing before. But then, you haven’t traveled every single lane in Haven since the Hydlenese attack.

  “Will they see that?” asked Jessyla.

  “I’d think so, but since they’ve not likely fought against black mages, they may not.”

  “Wouldn’t they be more likely to think you’re just a white throwing your own chaos bolts?”

  “I can certainly hope so, but we can’t count on it.”

  “Is there anything else you’ve been keeping hidden?” Her voice was wry.

  “You know about using shields to slow a mounted charge. That might work at times. Other than that, at the moment, I can’t think of anything else with questionable possibilities.” After several moments, he asked, “Have you thought of any other possible uses of magery that would be to our advantage?”

  “I know it sounds stupid,” she said slowly, “but white mages throw chaos bolts. Why couldn’t blacks throw order bolts … or spheres?”

  Beltur thought about that for several moments, recalling how he’d first tried to throw chaos bolts. Finally, he said, “First, it would take much more effort. When a white throws a chaos bolt, part of the force propelling the chaos is the chaos itself. The chaos in the bolt is compacted, but some chaos at the back escapes and that pushes the bolt forward. Order doesn’t provide that kind of force. The best I could ever do was to form a catapult out of order. It didn’t ever work very well.”

  “You thought about throwing order?”

  Beltur shook his head. “This was when I was in Analeria, just after we first met. Since I had trouble throwing chaos using chaos, I tried using order. It worked a little better than using chaos, but not all that well.”

  “You never mentioned that.”

  “I didn’t think about it, until you asked about throwing order.”

  “Why not?”

  “Well … because it didn’t work. Using white mages’ chaos against them worked much better.”

  “What was the other reason, besides taking more effort?”

  “It wouldn’t have that much effect on anyone besides the white, and I can get the same impact on the white either by linking order to a chaos bolt or using an order containment, without nearly as much effort.”

  Jessyla frowned. “In a way, you’re doing the same thing.”

  “Pretty much. I guess what I should have said was that you had the right idea, but that there’s an easier way to do it—except I hadn’t thought it out that way.”

  “How do you throw chaos back?”

  “Put a containment around it and push it back.”

  “But … how do you push?”

  Beltur paused. “I don’t know how to explain it. I sense where the white is and think about the containment being there. I made a lot of mistakes at first in Elparta.”

  “I might not try that … unless I have to.” She gestured. “I can see Frydika walking toward Ennalee’s place.”

  “I don’t think she’s terribly fond of me.”

  “She’s looking for someone to blame. You couldn’t have gotten there fast enough to save Samwyth, anyway.”

  By the time the two reached the lane leading up to Ennalee’s stead house, Frydika had already stepped inside. She’d never looked back, and that was fine with Beltur.

  As they neared the point where the road from the steads ended just short of the rocky and rugged hills, Beltur did his best to sense whether there were any riders nearby, but all he could discern were large mountain cats and a few deer and smaller animals in the forest. He reined up just short of the narrow road that ran roughly parallel to the hills and studied the dirt and clay. The only tracks were those of a horse and cart, and they looked to be several days old.

  “There’s been no one riding here in a while,” said Jessyla.

  “That’s good. Now all we have to do is to see whether there’s a place farther west that would give us a good ambush—and whether there’s an easy way to get there.”

  Jessyla looked at the uneven and rocky slopes dubiously. “The hills aren’t that high, but they’re uneven.”

  Beltur studied the hills more intently. They were more like the edge of an ancient and eroded mesa, rising almost vertically perhaps fifteen yards to a roughly flat top. The base of the escarpment rose from the gentle slope that extended down some thirty yards to edge of the path-like road, an uneven slope composed of reddish sandy soil. “No, they’re not that high, not compared to Axalt, anyway. We’ll keep riding and see if there’s any place that looks better.”

  As they headed east, Beltur kept looking at the escarpment. While he saw what looked to be a narrow footpath, perhaps half a kay before they reached that stretch of the road that seemed squeezed between the forest and the hills, the footpath was steep and barely wide enough for a single person. He also kept studying the road, but the only tracks remained those of the single cart.

  Once they reached the narrowest point between the forest and the low mesa, Beltur reined up and studied the terrain once more. There was less than forty yards between the trees and the base of the hills.

  “This is awfully narrow,” said Jessyla. “Do you really think they’ll chance it?”

  “If they have several thousand troopers, it’s more than worth the risk to try to send a company or two, possibly even a battalion through here. Once they’re past here, there’s no easy way for us to stop them.”

  He pointed. “Behind that outcrop up there. That would be perfect for an ambush. We could also put archers in the trees … except that I don’t see any way that a mounted squad could get up there, let alone get down quickly.”

  “What about archers on foot,” asked Jessyla, “along that narrow path we saw?”

  “That would be anything but quick.”

  “It doesn’t have to be quick for them to get up there, not if we know they’re coming this way.”

  “That’s true,” agreed Beltur. “We’ll need to see if there’s a path or way up on top on this side, though.”

  “I’d wager there’s not. There are more people on the east side of the forest.”

  Beltur laughed. “You just might be right. Let’s go see.”

  From what either of them could see, there didn’t seem to be any path up to the top of the mesa. There were places where rock climbing might be possible, but it would have been tortuous and dangerous. After scouting that out, rather than retrace their route, Beltur and Jessyla only went back to the rocky grasslands he’d crossed before, then rode north until they reached the old lane leading into Haven, taking that only partway to a side street that ran due north into the main street.

  Three quints later, they were riding west past the junction with the Weevett road toward the junction with the Hydolar road. Again, there were few tracks on the east-west road, and no recent prints at all on the Hydolar road, suggesting to Beltur that the Duke’s army was still likely on its way to Haven.

  The hills on the east side of the Hydolar road were much lower than those south of Haven, rising at the most only fifteen yards or so above the road bed, and were largely grass-covered, offering little cover.

  “We could hide troopers behind them, but anyone on top would be visible, unless they were under a concealment,” Jessyla pointed out.

  “What if we kept the troopers farther away and waited until the bulk of the Hydlenese passed, then attacked their rear?”

  “Wouldn’t they just turn and encircle us?”

  “A big army can’t turn that quickly. I was thinking of just using a company, inflicting as many casu
alties as possible, and withdrawing across those fields to the lane where the first Hydlenese posted their scouts.”

  “Do you think you could move fast enough?”

  “I don’t know. That’s something we’d have to discuss with Raelf. But let’s ride that way, to see if it’s even practical.”

  The fields were more uneven than they looked, but the lane was where Beltur had remembered it. Still, he had his doubts about how practical the idea was. But it couldn’t hurt to talk it over with Raelf.

  It was three quints before fourth glass by the time they dismounted at the barn.

  “I’m glad you took me,” said Jessyla. “I have a much better idea where things are and how to get there.”

  “If you come up with any ideas, I’d like to hear them.”

  “Let me think about them later. We need to do the horses and wash up. We’re having dinner at Tulya’s, remember?”

  Beltur vaguely remembered that, but he only nodded. “I can do the horses while you’re washing up.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh … after we eat, we should work with Tulya and Lhadoraak to draw up a map showing the area around Haven, with the possible approaches and potential places for attacks. Tulya’s got a good hand.”

  “I was wondering about that. When you tell people, they tend to forget.”

  Especially officers like Cheld. Beltur knew he should have thought of the map sooner. But better late than never.

  He took the reins to her mount. “You go get washed up.”

  “Don’t be too long.” She smiled.

  L

  Cheld had scouts out early on oneday, including those positioned on the low hills east of the Hydolar road, but even by midday, there were no reports on any troopers—or travelers—coming from the direction of Hydolar, or from Certis. By second glass, the scout watching the Weevett road reported that Raelf’s forces were on the way, and a messenger conveyed that to the four councilors, who were at Lhadoraak and Tulya’s house.

  Once the messenger left, Lhadoraak was the first to speak. “We should meet with Raelf immediately. All of us.”

  “Do we send word that we’ll meet with him at the East Inn upon his arrival, since the Hydlenese burned down the Council House?” asked Beltur.

  Lhadoraak nodded. “That would be best.”

  “Which patroller?” Tulya looked to her consort.

  “Therran. He’s the youngest, and he also has a blue uniform. It should be a written invitation,” added Lhadoraak.

  “Not an invitation,” suggested Beltur. “Just a statement that, since it would be in the interest of all parties to exchange information as soon as possible, we will be awaiting him at the East Inn.”

  “I’ll write it,” announced Tulya. “You two get a mount and Therran ready.”

  Beltur knew exactly which two she meant. “I’ll get the horses ready.”

  “I’ll walk to the quarters,” said Lhadoraak, “but we’ll need mounts for later.”

  “I’ll have them ready,” replied Beltur.

  In less than two quints, Therran was on his way.

  Little more than a quint after that, Beltur sensed the arriving force close to two kays west of Haven. All five, including Taelya, mounted up and rode to the East Inn, where they tied their horses and made their way to the public room.

  Cheld was already there, and a momentary frown crossed his forehead as he saw the five enter. “The majers haven’t arrived yet.”

  “We know,” replied Beltur. “They’ll be here in less than a quint. We thought an immediate meeting would be useful.”

  “Oh?”

  “It’s likely that it won’t be that long before the Hydlenese arrive.”

  “What makes you think that?”

  “There have been no travelers on the Hydolar road for almost an eightday. That suggests that traders and others know that there’s going to be some sort of conflict very soon—”

  “Everyone in Hydolar knows that by now,” declared Cheld.

  “But traders like to make silvers, and, like the spice merchant, they’ll move ahead of the armies. Since we haven’t seen any traders at all, that suggests it’s too dangerous for traders, and the only way that could be is if the army is already moving toward Haven,” returned Beltur.

  “You’re counting a great deal on traders,” said Cheld sardonically.

  “Only on their greed,” interjected Lhadoraak, his tone bitingly sarcastic. “It’s a better indication of how they’ll act than honor … or even promises to those who’ve saved them.”

  “Yet you come from Spidlar.”

  “Who else would know better?” said Tulya.

  Cheld looked askance at her, as if she had no part in the conversation.

  “I think I hear riders outside,” offered Beltur. “We can continue once the majers arrive.”

  Cheld immediately rose.

  “I’ll come with you,” Beltur said quickly, not wanting to let Cheld out of his sight.

  Cheld headed for the front entry to the inn, but Beltur stayed right beside him, and the two were outside just as the first riders neared the inn.

  “I thought you said you heard riders?” Cheld’s tone was accusing.

  “I sensed them. I’ve gotten into the habit of saying I’ve heard what I’ve sensed because some people don’t believe me.” While that was partly true, Beltur hadn’t wanted Cheld to say something about Tulya that couldn’t have helped matters. But then, Beltur was beginning to feel that nothing was going to be that helpful with the undercaptain. You could be wrong. He hoped he was, but he wasn’t that optimistic. He turned to greet Raelf.

  “Cheld! Mage!” offered the dusty and balding majer as he reined up. “Are the others here as well?”

  “The other three councilors are waiting in the public room,” replied Beltur.

  “Excellent. I’ll get Majer Rojak, and we’ll join all of you and Cheld shortly.”

  “We’re glad you’re here, and we’ll be waiting,” said Beltur, managing not to smile at Raelf’s indirect order to the undercaptain not to accompany him.

  “Yes, ser,” replied Cheld.

  “Shall we go?” said Beltur.

  Cheld just nodded.

  Once back in the public room, Beltur announced, “Majer Raelf and Lydian Majer Rojak will be joining us shortly.”

  The six seated themselves around the circular table. They waited for almost half a quint, but even Taelya remained quiet. Beltur couldn’t help but recall that Raelf hadn’t shown any surprise at Beltur’s black forehead. Had Therran told him? Or was Raelf that schooled and polite? Or both?

  Then Raelf and another officer entered the public room.

  Since Cheld immediately rose to his feet, so did the five others.

  “Councilors, this is Majer Rojak, in command of the three Lydian companies that have joined our forces.” Raelf gestured to the tall blond officer in Lydian maroon. “Majer, these are the councilors of Haven, except for the young woman, who is a beginning white mage. The taller mage is Lhadoraak; the other mage is Beltur, who is also a healer; and the healer is his consort, Jessyla, and she is also a mage. The last councilor is Tulya, who is the town justicer, and also Lhadoraak’s consort.”

  That statement definitely impressed Beltur because it meant Raelf had made considerable inquiries, especially since the statement about Tulya wasn’t something that had been determined until after the four had come to Haven.

  On the other hand, Majer Rojak looked anything but impressed, although he did frown slightly as his eyes settled momentarily on Beltur, and his smile was polite, but little more. Beltur doubted that Rojak was more than ten years older than Beltur himself, and he couldn’t but wonder whether Rojak had been promoted to majer just for the assignment.

  “You had some matters to discuss, I believe,” Raelf said.

  “We do,” said Beltur, gesturing to the table, and then pulling another chair from an adjoining table.

  Once everyone was seated, Beltur turned to
Raelf, seated on his left, with Rojak on Raelf’s other side. “You read the dispatches we sent to Weevett, I take it. Has Majer Rojak been briefed on those attacks, including the one by Hydlenese troopers wearing Lydian uniforms?”

  “I’ve read all of the reports.” Rojak’s tone was almost bored. “I have to admit that I’m slightly puzzled as to why these supposed Hydlenese troopers have been attacking a small town that is close to nothing of great import and offers no particular resources or riches. And then, the report that a full battalion attacked and that with no real forces, you managed to kill hundreds … that seems rather … odd.”

  Lhadoraak, surprisingly to Beltur, immediately spoke up. “Majer … given your obvious doubts, I think you should see the sabres we took from the slain Hydlenese…”

  “What would a few sabres show?”

  “There are more than a few. More like four hundred.”

  “Four hundred … isn’t that a bit far-fetched?”

  “Since it appears far-fetched to you,” said Lhadoraak evenly, “that would indicate a certain skepticism. That skepticism might carry over into your view of other matters. That’s why it might be best to put matters of doubt to rest immediately. So there won’t be any claims of … misunderstanding.”

  “I think we should take the suggestion,” said Raelf cheerfully.

  “Since the Hydlenese burned the Council House, we had to put them in our root cellar,” said Beltur.

  Majer Rojak frowned.

  “It’s a short ride,” said Jessyla, “and it might just settle your mind about what we tell you.”

  “I’ll call your bluff,” declared Rojak.

  Raelf couldn’t quite hide the momentary wince that crossed his face. He quickly managed a smile. “Remember, Rojak, black mages don’t bluff.”

  Rojak stood. “I have my doubts, Majer.”

  Raelf shrugged. “Then by all means we should see the sabres.” When Rojak headed for the archway from the public room, he murmured to Lhadoraak, “He might as well find out now.”

  Just over a quint later, the eight, including Cheld and Taelya, filed down into the root cellar under Beltur and Jessyla’s dwelling.