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The Mage-Fire War (Saga of Recluce)

Page 46

by Modesitt. Jr. , L. E.


  Moments later, she reappeared, carrying what appeared to be a Spidlarian uniform tunic and trousers, except the tunic was like his with black bands on the ends of the sleeves.

  “You had my uniform repaired overnight? By Julli?”

  Jessyla shook her head, offering a mischievous smile. “Yours is fine. I washed it, and it’s drying outside.”

  “Then…?”

  “It’s mine. I realized something almost an eightday ago. Healer greens are close in color to Hydlenese uniforms. If I’m to be riding with Lydian or Montgren troopers…”

  Beltur wanted to shake his head. He’d never even thought of that.

  “You’ve had a lot on your mind. I just had Julli make up one for me. Since I’m also a mage…”

  “You not only need it. You also deserve it. I should have thought about it.” Beltur couldn’t help but wonder how many other obvious things he’d overlooked.

  “That’s why we work better together.” Jessyla was about to say more when there was another knock on the door. “I’ll get it.” Still carrying her uniform, she hurried back to the front door, returning quickly, accompanied by Lhadoraak.

  Beltur studied the older mage as he stopped just inside the kitchen. Lhadoraak looked not only worried, but slightly haggard. “What is it that’s bothering you? Is there something I don’t know?”

  Lhadoraak shook his head, then offered what seemed an apologetic smile. “I can’t help but worry where it all will end.”

  “We’re all worried. No one with any sense wouldn’t be.”

  Jessyla nodded, but looked intently at her consort.

  Beltur managed not to frown, even as he was trying to decipher the message she was clearly trying to send. After a momentary hesitation, he motioned to the chair at the end of the table. “Why don’t you take a seat, and we can talk about it.”

  As Lhadoraak sat down, Jessyla laid her uniform over the back of the chair at the end of the table before taking Beltur’s platter and putting it on the side table. Then she took a beaker and filled it with ale, setting it before the older mage.

  “Thank you,” said Lhadoraak.

  “You’re welcome.” Jessyla reclaimed her uniform and said, “I need to ask Tulya about something. I’ll be back in a bit.” Then she slipped out of the kitchen, heading toward the bedroom.

  Lhadoraak took a sip of the ale, then smiled faintly. “It’s much better than Bythalt’s best.”

  “Much,” agreed Beltur. “In the future, the widow might do very well.”

  “In the future…” mused Lhadoraak. “That sounds so promising. You make it sound that way. It’s one of your many talents, you know?”

  “I try. You can’t make things better unless you believe it’s possible.”

  Lhadoraak laughed softly. “There you go again.”

  Beltur smiled apologetically. “I’m afraid it’s one of my faults.”

  “One of my faults…” Lhadoraak paused, lifting the beaker, then setting it back on the table without drinking. “One of mine … I worry more about the worst that can happen.” He shook his head. “You know … if Taelya had taken after me, or Tulya … we’d still be in Elparta, and I’d be doing whatever Caradyn wanted. I wouldn’t have liked it, but I would have done it.”

  “Do you really think so?” asked Beltur, trying to project doubt in his voice.

  “You’re being kind, Beltur. That’s one of the many things I like about you. You want the best for everyone, and you’ve risked your life to try to make it so.” He paused again, then took a small swallow from the beaker. “I’ve never been that brave.”

  “You’ve never been as foolish as I’ve been. I’ve dragged person after person into places that they never wanted to be. My uncle might well have lived if he hadn’t been burdened with me. You and Tulya wouldn’t have been pushed out of Elparta except for your friendship with me. Barrynt would still be alive if Jorhan and I hadn’t been so determined to create a magnificent mirror for Halhana. We wouldn’t be facing an army if I hadn’t been so insistent on finding a place where people wouldn’t bother me. How much of that’s because I’m proud and don’t want to bend my neck to others?”

  Lhadoraak smiled again. “You are proud. Maybe too proud. I’ll grant you that. But I think your uncle would have died anyway. The Prefect was after him and all the blacks. Athaal would have been forced to do just what he did, and both he and I would have died without you. Taelya would be dead by now. And sooner or later, even without the mirror, Barrynt would have run afoul of Emlyn and Sarysta, and without you, Sarysta would have destroyed Johlana, Halhana, and ruined Eshult.”

  “You knew about Sarysta?”

  “Knowing how strongly you feel and what you can do, it was the only way she could have died in that fashion. Naerkaal figured it out, didn’t he? You didn’t think I could?”

  “I hoped you wouldn’t.”

  “Beltur … I don’t think any less of you for that. I think more of you for having the courage to do it. I don’t have that kind of courage.”

  “And it’s gotten us all just in a deeper hole.”

  “I’ll grant you that, too,” agreed the older mage. “But should you get us all out of this hole, then Taelya will have a future she never could have had. I won’t ever have to worry about not being courageous enough, and Tulya can live somewhere that she won’t find cold and miserable.” He smiled sardonically. “Of course, I am counting on you to do what I can’t, and that’s hardly fair. I’m being honest, though.”

  Beltur wasn’t quite sure how to respond. Finally, he said, “You’ve worried about this for a while, haven’t you?”

  “Haven’t you?” Lhadoraak’s tone was gentle.

  “Not as much as you have, I think. Perhaps not as much as I should have.”

  “It’s time to stop worrying about how we got here and concentrate our worrying on how we get out of where we are.”

  Beltur smiled wryly. “I agree. Would you like more ale?”

  “I would. Jessyla won’t be back any time soon. Not if Tulya has anything to say about it.”

  They both laughed.

  LVIII

  On fiveday afternoon, another Hydlenese battalion arrived and set up camp at a stead two kays west of the low hill where Beltur and the Weevett company had defeated the enemy recon company. Raelf’s scouts reported that none of the Hydlenese troopers or scouts had actually ventured into Montgren.

  Late that afternoon, accompanied by a squad of troopers from Captain Knutwyl’s company, Beltur and Jessyla rode out far enough on the old east-west road that they could sense the new encampment that had grown up around the small stead. Neither could sense any mages. Then they took the narrow back road past the hill where the recon company had been and got close enough to the other stead, but there were only the same two mages there, unless there were others who could manage a total concealment of the type Beltur could, and, given the effort required, that was unlikely in a non-battle situation.

  As they rode back toward Haven, Jessyla said to Beltur, quietly, “That makes something close to three battalions so far. Raelf thought that the Duke couldn’t afford to send more than four.”

  “I’m wagering that he’ll send enough to give the impression of five, or close enough,” replied Beltur. “When other mages arrive will be when we know they’ll be close to ready to start fighting.”

  “Why? Because they want to use the mages to deal with the three of us?”

  “Partly. Also because word’s likely gotten out that our mages wiped out an entire battalion. Their commanders want to assure the officers and men that their mages are here so it won’t happen again.”

  “Would the rankers even know that?”

  Beltur laughed. “I found that the rankers often knew more than the undercaptains.”

  “Gustaan knew more than his undercaptain. You told me that. But they punished him.”

  “That’s one of the differences between Montgren and Hydlen. Raelf talks to his men. It’s one of the reason
s his troopers are better.” Beltur could only hope that they were enough better, although the attack on the recon company had been a hopeful sign.

  It was well past fifth glass when Beltur and Jessyla returned to the East Inn and met around the big table with the two majers in the public room, not that anyone else was in it.

  “What did you find out?” asked Raelf.

  “So far, we haven’t found any sign of more mages at either encampment,” said Beltur. “Just the first two.”

  “Do you think they’ll attack without more mages?” asked Jessyla.

  “I have my doubts,” replied Raelf, “but it’s possible. We’ll continue to keep a very close watch on them. With so many companies, they’ll have to coordinate their attacks, and that means we’ll have some time to think about how to counter anything we haven’t already considered.”

  “We’ll also need to find out where they place their mages,” added Beltur. “And where the strongest and weakest are.”

  Rojak frowned. “Won’t they just send their strongest?”

  “No two mages are exactly alike. Even among the Prefect’s mages, and he likely had more than any ruler in Candar, there was quite a variation in their abilities and strength.”

  “Can you be as effective as you were the other day?” Rojak asked Beltur. “That’s the real question.”

  “I can do what I can do, but I’d likely be unable to continue long before dealing with more than a few companies.”

  Rojak turned to Raelf. “How can we entice or force the Hydlenese to split their forces?”

  “We don’t have to do anything for that to happen. It they insist on massing their forces, we’ll loose arrows into those in the middle until they do split. There are also a few other ways we’re working on to slow or stop their advance in a way that will make them more vulnerable. If we can do that and continue to reduce their numbers, in time, we can destroy them.”

  “They won’t give us that time,” snapped Rojak.

  “They already have, and they’ve lost a company.”

  “One out of possibly twenty-five. We have six.”

  “I doubt that they can bring that many companies, but we’ll see,” said Raelf.

  “That we will. Now … if you’ll excuse me.” Rojak pushed back his chair and stood, then turned and walked from the public room.

  Once Rojak was gone, Raelf smiled and said pleasantly, “Don’t mind Rojak. He’s begun to understand that he’s not here to deal with a band of barely organized brigands and that the mere appearance of companies of troopers from Lydiar isn’t going to make Duke Massyngal back off. Now … where were we?”

  Beltur didn’t know whether to laugh or shake his head, and it was a moment before he replied. “Talking about whether the Hydlenese would split their forces and in what fashion, and where they might put their mages.”

  “You know more about that than I do,” replied Raelf. “Where do you think they’ll place them?”

  “I’d think they’d want them close enough to protect their frontline troopers, but far enough back so that they could move elsewhere as needed. Part of that depends on how many mages are accompanying their troopers. I don’t see how they can have enough to put a mage with every company. If they sent ten, they might have enough to put one with every other company, but I wouldn’t do that. That would spread them out too much, and if they know we even have one strong mage, that mage could take out the weaker white mages. I’d probably have two or three with the main attacking force, close enough together that they could reinforce each other. That way, if we don’t have a mage opposing that force, they’ll use chaos bolts to break our defenses without our being able to take out their troopers.”

  “You’re saying that they’ll limit the number of separate forces making an attack to what they can cover with at least two mages.”

  “That’s what I’d do. I don’t know what they’ll do.”

  “You figured it out. So will they.” Raelf’s smile was grim. “How do we stop them without losing men and without spreading you three too thin?”

  “Earthworks would help. Chaos bolts can’t do much to rock and dirt. That’s another reason why we thought that putting archers in the hills opposite that patch of forest would help. You could put some in the trees as well. Most chaos bolts can’t burn through a really big and thick trunk.”

  “Couldn’t they start a fire?”

  “They could, but it would take a while to catch. It’s summer, and everything here is pretty damp.”

  “Say that they attack from three separate points at the same time. How would you recommend we deploy you three mages?”

  “That would depend on where they place their strongest mages.”

  “And you can tell from a distance which mages are stronger?”

  “Comparatively. That’s why Jessyla and I need to keep scouting their forces.”

  Raelf nodded. “Thank you. You’ve given me more to work with. We’ll definitely keep you informed. In the meantime, please take care of yourselves … and let me know if you think of something else that might help.”

  “We definitely will,” replied Beltur.

  Neither said much until they had recovered their mounts and were riding back past the square toward their home.

  “What else can we do?” asked Jessyla.

  “Get their mages angry and flustered and get them to think we have whites as well by redirecting their chaos bolts … and keep their mages alive for a while.”

  Jessyla frowned … then abruptly smiled. “You didn’t mention that to Raelf.”

  “No. I don’t know if it will work, but there’s no reason it shouldn’t, especially if the whites aren’t near the front lines.”

  “Lhadoraak can’t do that,” Jessyla pointed out. “I might be able to do it. I’ve never tried it, though.”

  “You’ll likely have the chance to see,” Beltur replied sardonically. More chances than I’d ever want you to have.

  “Do you think I can? Lhadoraak can’t.”

  “I don’t see why not. You can use containments effectively.”

  “To kill people, you mean.”

  “I was being polite, but you’ve been working on holding and using multiple containments. I don’t think Lhadoraak’s ever been able to handle more than two. Several patrollers told me that most mages never got beyond two. You have.”

  “Only for a very short time.”

  “Chaos bolts don’t last very long, one way or the other,” Beltur said dryly. He glanced to his left, at the Brass Bowl, outside of which a squad of Lydian troopers was mounting up. Scouting, training … or something else?

  “Do you think the rest of the Hydlenese will arrive tomorrow?”

  “I’d be very surprised if they didn’t come soon. Whether that’s tomorrow or eightday, or even oneday, I couldn’t say.”

  “Tomorrow,” declared Jessyla. “And they’ll attack on oneday or twoday.”

  “You’re rather certain about that.”

  “I might as well be.” She smiled mischievously.

  “Then, I’ll match that. They’ll attack on twoday.”

  “That gives you three days to teach me something about redirecting chaos bolts.”

  “We’ll start when we get home.” Another thing you should have thought about earlier.

  LIX

  Sevenday dawned hot, and Beltur and Jessyla were awake soon after dawn.

  “We might as well get up,” said Beltur, immediately sitting up and blotting his forehead with the back of his forearm. “I’ll sweat more lying here.”

  “In the summer, you sweat whatever you’re doing,” replied Jessyla as she sat up in bed. Then she grinned at him and added, “Even in bed.”

  Beltur flushed, then shook his head ruefully, stood, and walked to the washroom, where he took the pitcher and made his way to the kitchen cistern. There he filled the pitcher and headed back to the washroom.

  After washing and eating a breakfast of porridge, bread, a little cheese,
and a pearapple, Beltur then walked to the barn and dealt with his chores there, talking to Slowpoke and the other horses as he did, trying not to sneeze too much as he added hay to all the mangers, even though he liked its faint clean smell, if not the continual outlays for good hay and grain.

  By the time he finished and returned to the house, Jessyla had cleaned up the kitchen and bedroom and was ready to go.

  “We need to talk to Gustaan and the others, but we’ll walk to the square,” said Beltur. “We might need the horses later, and I’d like to keep them as fresh as possible.” He smiled fondly at her. “When do you think the Hydlenese and their mages will arrive?”

  Without the slightest hesitation, she replied, “Between third and fourth glass.”

  He grinned. “Still certain about that?”

  She offered an amused smile in return. “I never said anything about the time, but since you wanted certainty, I’m happy to oblige. We should go. Julli said she might have some burnet and possibly even more brinn.”

  “You think they’ll have a market day?”

  “Of course. It might be the last chance for an eightday or longer. They all know that the Hydlenese won’t arrive until later in the day, if they come today. So everyone will be there early.”

  The two set out, Beltur still wearing his older blacks.

  When they reached the square, despite what Jessyla had said, Beltur found that he was still surprised to see Julli and her cart in the market square so early, along with Ennalee. “You two are here early.”

  “It just might be the last time to have a market for a time,” replied Ennalee tartly. “I do hope you and the troopers can put those greencoat ruffians in their place.”

  “That’s our aim,” replied Beltur with a cheerful tone he didn’t feel.

  “After that,” added Ennalee, “you need to go and put Duke Massyngal in his place. The very idea that any part of Montgren would ever want to be under his fat greasy thumb!” She shook her head for emphasis.

  “We’ll do what we have to.” And what we can. Beltur nodded to the older woman.

  “Do you have any more brinn?” Jessyla asked Julli.

 

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