The Mage-Fire War (Saga of Recluce)

by Modesitt. Jr. , L. E.

  “I appreciate your words. The majer has hinted at that as well. I would prefer it not come to that.” Zekkarat paused, then said, “Whatever may happen, I know that without you three mages, all of us would have perished. I have talked to some of the captives and wounded. All of them say that they were under orders to give no quarter and to leave no one alive in Haven.”

  Beltur tried not to shiver. To believe that had been the case was one thing. To have Zekkarat confirm it was another, since absolute conviction was in both his words and feelings.

  “No one has mentioned that to us,” Jessyla said evenly.

  “Have you asked them? Do you think any of the wounded would dare offer such words to those healing them?”

  “We didn’t think of it,” replied Jessyla.

  “That is because you are a healer at heart and a captain and warrior only from need.”

  Beltur couldn’t have agreed more—about Jessyla. But you should have thought about it.

  “And you, Mage-Captain Beltur, already understood Duke Massyngal. You had no need to question what you knew. I can only hope that Duke Halacut has a fifth of your understanding.” Zekkarat smiled. “I have nothing else to say. I only wished to convey my appreciation.”

  “You have ours,” replied Beltur. “You and your men made what we did possible. We wish you well.”

  “You will always be welcome here in Haven,” added Jessyla.

  “I hope I do not have to accept that welcome, but I appreciate it. Thank you. Again.” Zekkarat paused. “I need to attend to some details.”

  After Zekkarat strode off across the square, Gustaan approached the two. “Councilors, he wished a word with you.”

  “We’re glad he did before he left,” said Beltur. “He’s a very good officer.”

  “I got that feeling.”

  Not wanting to dwell on Zekkarat’s departure, Beltur gestured toward the carts and wagons and the troopers around them. “What do you think about that?”

  “It looks like a real market square,” observed Gustaan.

  “It does,” agreed Beltur.

  “I don’t think that’s why you’re here, though, ser.”

  “No. I wanted to know how you’re coming in finding possible recruits among the Hydlenese prisoners and wounded.”

  Gustaan offered a wry and lopsided smile. “There are forty wounded who look to recover. Some of those”—he looked to Jessyla—“you’ve healed. I’d guess that thirty-five of them want to stay here. Twenty-three of the prisoners feel the same way.”

  “Good,” replied Beltur. “It’s possible we can use them all.”

  Gustaan frowned. “I thought you only needed ten or so.”

  “Ten as town patrollers. Majer Raelf suggested that it might be a good idea for Haven to have a company of troopers. There’s no way we can afford a company. A squad or two, though, we just might be able to work out.”

  “Can the Council afford that?”

  “We do have something like a hundred horses, over a thousand blades of various sorts, and other assorted goods that we might be able to convert into coins.”

  Gustaan raised his eyebrows. “The Duchess and Duke Halacut aren’t…”

  “No. They aren’t. Now … there’s one other matter. I need you to be in charge of a recon squad I need to take into Hydlen, possibly into Hydolar itself. We’ll be wearing greencoat uniforms.”

  “A recon squad into Hydlen? After all … this?”

  “I’m not looking for a fight. Between the uniforms and my being able to conceal the squad, we should be able to avoid using arms. You’d mentioned that Turlow knows Hydolar and the area around it. Did you find out about Graalur?”

  “He’s from Asula. A recon squad?” asked Gustaan once more.

  “That’s as good a name for it as any,” replied Beltur. “Can you get together another nine men who would be suitable and who you’d trust in the next day or so?”

  “Might be better if I got a few more and had you meet them.”

  “Oneday morning, then.” Beltur had hoped that Gustaan would suggest something along those lines, and had wanted to see if the former squad leader would do that.

  “Yes, ser. How soon would this squad be leaving?”

  “Not for another few days at the soonest.” Not until most of the troopers and Raelf leave. “It might be longer. It will happen, but the timing depends on a few other matters.”

  “You don’t want Dussef or Therran in the squad?”

  “Councilor Jessyla will need some experienced patrollers with you and Turlow gone.” Beltur paused. “On oneday, maybe we should also meet two or three men who you think would be better as town patrollers.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Good. Now … we’re going to see if we can find some things out there in the square. If you, or someone, would keep an eye on the horses? It won’t be long.”

  “We’ll watch. I need to be here anyway.”

  “Thank you.”

  Beltur waited a moment, while Jessyla retrieved two baskets from her saddlebags. Then, once they were well away from the quarters building, he asked, “What did you sense?”

  “He was a little worried about the recon squad, but he seemed pleased to hear about more troopers here.”

  “That was my feeling, but I wanted your view because I might have been sensing what I wanted him to feel.” Beltur kept walking. He didn’t recognize the holder who stood beside the first cart that they approached.

  “Ser mage, lady healer, the best cherries you’ll find anywhere in Montgren.”

  Beltur suspected that they were the only cherries in Haven. “How much?”

  “Two coppers for a quint stone.”

  Beltur looked to Jessyla. “Do you think … some for us, and some for Tulya?”

  Jessyla nodded, then handed over four coppers.

  When they moved on, she murmured, “That’s a lot for cherries, but he didn’t have that many left. They’re good for a woman carrying.”

  Not to mention that they taste good.

  In the next quint, they bought some new potatoes and a block of white cheese, ignoring the cage full of coneys for sale and a smaller cage filled with tree rats, before they came to Julli’s wagon.

  “I thought I might see you two.” Julli smiled, then frowned as she looked at Beltur. “You, too? The silver hair, I mean. You two look like druids. They’re supposed to have that silver hair.”

  “I don’t feel like a druid. It just happened to us both at the same time in the battle.”

  “Well,” replied Julli, “you won’t have to worry about going gray.”

  “I suppose not,” replied Beltur, glancing past Julli. “Those beans look good.”

  “They’re good,” agreed Julli. “I would have had more, but those greencoats who wore maroon trampled a good part of that garden.”

  “We’ll take some,” said Jessyla, “and the banty rooster. If you’ll wring his neck.”

  “Now?”

  “Now,” replied Jessyla.

  “Speaking of greencoats,” said Beltur. “We might have some tailoring for you. We have some uniforms…”

  Julli frowned.

  “I thought it might be useful for some of the town patrol to have green uniforms when they’re scouting on the other side of the border. Do you have time to do that in the next eightday or so?”

  “If you’re paying, I’ve got the time.”

  “Perhaps on twoday or threeday?”

  “I’ll be at the house.” Julli turned to Jessyla. “Why don’t you come back when you’ve finished looking around.”

  “We’re done now. We just need the beans and the rooster.”

  Beltur didn’t look away as Julli casually wrung the rooster’s neck, but it did make him a little uncomfortable.

  He was still wondering why when they rode back to their house.

  LXXI

  On eightday, Jessyla and Tulya collaborated on turning the banty rooster, which Jessyla had plucked and marinated
in ale and various spices overnight, into a flavorful stew for diner. Beltur suspected that, without the marinating and Tulya’s touches, the rooster would have been tough indeed.

  While they were collaborating, Beltur spent several glasses with Taelya, both working on her shields and helping her to move chaos in a precise and targeted fashion, as well as answering, as well as he could, the questions she asked about why the Duke of Hydlen was such a cruel ruler that he wanted to kill people in Haven.

  By seventh glass on oneday, after stabling Slowpoke and the mare at the East Inn, Beltur and Jessyla were at the quarters building, where Gustaan had gathered four Hydlenese captives—two recovering from sabre slashes and two who had been captured. Even the two who had been captured sported cuts, scrapes, and bruises.

  Jessyla and Beltur sat on straight-backed chairs in the main-floor chamber that served not only as the patrol duty room, but also as the off-duty gathering place.

  “Before we start,” Beltur said, “there’s one other thing I’m going to need.”

  “Yes, ser?”

  “I need a rough map of the way to Hydolar, with the names of all the towns or large hamlets we’ll pass through.”

  Gustaan frowned.

  “I know you don’t need it, but I do. How can I ask an intelligent question or know what someone’s talking about…”

  A brief smile appeared on Gustaan’s face. “Hadn’t thought about that, ser. Between us, we can put something together. Might take a day or so.”

  “Thank you. Now…”

  Gustaan went to the rear door, opened it, and ushered the first man in, a black-haired stocky man with a splint on his left forearm. “This is Laussag. He’s from Renklaar.”

  Laussag’s eyes focused first on Beltur, narrowing, presumably at his black forehead and silver hair, and then turning to Jessyla. He frowned, then said to her in an accent Beltur didn’t recognize, “You wore blue to fight, didn’t you?”

  “Yes. How did you know that?”

  “I saw you appear after you’d smashed a line. Except your hair was red, then. You were also the one who set the bone in my arm, weren’t you?”

  “I set it. Beltur later removed some of the chaos that was there because it hadn’t been set earlier.”

  “Gustaan said you are looking for men who would like to be town patrollers here.”

  “We are,” replied Jessyla.

  “How do you know you could trust me?”

  “We don’t. We can tell if you’re lying or if you’re upset, or calm. Would you be interested in being a patroller here?”

  “I might be. There’s no point in going back to Hydlen.”

  “What might be keeping you from being interested?” asked Beltur.

  Laussag moistened his lips. “Who really controls the town patrol?”

  “We do,” replied Jessyla. “The two of us and the other councilor.”

  “No merchants or traders?” Laussag’s tone was skeptical.

  “No. The Duchess chartered us as the Council. There aren’t any wealthy traders here. There’s no one from the Duchess’s family, either,” said Jessyla.

  “That’s why we can’t pay as well as some towns can.” Beltur smiled. “We do have quite a few blades and other weapons that we can turn into coins in time. Also, some horses.”

  “What do you expect from patrollers?”

  “To keep the peace. To be honest. Not to steal from the people they’re protecting or from anyone else. To be a good person on-duty and off-duty.” Beltur paused, then asked, “What would you expect from a good patroller?”

  Laussag shifted his injured arm, wincing slightly. “Everything you said. Also, to know weapons well enough not to have to use them and to use only as much force as necessary.”

  “That’s a good point,” agreed Beltur. “We feel that way, but hadn’t mentioned it.”

  By the time Beltur and Jessyla had talked to the four men Gustaan had selected, it was past ninth glass, and the three were alone in the duty room.

  “What do you think?” asked Gustaan.

  “You chose well,” said Jessyla. “Do you have a preference?”

  Gustaan shook his head. “Each has different strengths, but I’d be happy with any of them.”

  “Then offer a position to each of them. They know we can’t pay that much? And that they’ll sometimes have to help with building and other things?”

  “They know. That’s not a problem.”

  “Good. Now … what about troopers? Especially nine who’d be willing to reenter Hydlen for an eightday or two. With me and you, of course.”

  “You, ser?”

  “I’ve always wanted to see Hydolar, and since there’s a need for me to go there, I thought wearing green uniforms would make it … less adventuresome. A half squad is large enough to forestall questions, especially since I’ll be wearing a captain’s uniform, and big enough to deal with local … authorities. It’s also small enough for me to easily conceal everyone for as long as necessary.”

  “You’re not looking to fight then?”

  “I absolutely don’t want you and the men to fight if there’s any way possible to avoid it.”

  “Might I ask why…?”

  “I have to deliver a message to the Duke. Personally, and in a way that he, and those around him, understand that I could do so again, especially if I ever heard that he was amassing troops again.”

  Gustaan’s mouth opened, then closed.

  “I’m trying to make it clear that he will pay a personal price if he tries something like this again.”

  “Do you think he’ll listen … if you can even get to him?”

  “If you can put me close to the palace, I can get to him. The rest is up to the Duke.”

  “That might be harder than you think.”

  Beltur nodded. “Everything has been harder than we thought. We still have to try. Can you have the trooper candidates here at first glass?”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “Then we’ll go over to the inn and have an ale while you get them ready.”

  “Ah … ser … when will this … evolution take place?”

  “Soon. I’ll know more in a day or two. We’re not talking even as long as late summer.”

  “That soon?”

  “Right now, there are troopers scattered all over the north of Hydlen, I’d wager. The sooner we can leave the less anyone will think about it.”

  Gustaan nodded at that.

  Beltur and Jessyla walked back across the square, empty in the midday heat, unlike on sevenday, and made their way into the public room. There, Raelf was seated at a table with Knutwyl. He motioned for the two mages to join him. Set before him was a chest a half yard wide and half that high and deep. “I was hoping to see you two.” He nodded to the chest. “This is for the Council.”

  Beltur knew instantly what was in the chest. “The Council is most grateful.”

  “It might help some with your rebuilding.”

  “At this point, we can use that.” Beltur seated himself.

  “I’ve thought as much.” Raelf eased the chest in front of Beltur.

  Beltur noted that Knutwyl maintained an even expression, but there was a certain chaotic uneasiness behind that pleasant demeanor. “This will help us build a stronger Haven, so that there won’t be a repetition of what happened.”

  “That’s my hope,” replied Raelf. “I’d hate to have lost men for nothing.”

  “We understand,” said Jessyla. “We do.”

  They’d only been seated for a few uneasy moments more before Claerk appeared with two more beakers of ale. “This is the better brew, Mages.”

  “Thank you.”

  Claerk hurried off.

  “I saw you headed to the town patrol building,” Raelf said.

  “We were talking to Hydlenese troopers who might make good town patrollers.”

  “Hydlenese?” asked Knutwyl.

  “Almost none of the captives or the wounded feel safe in returning to Hyd
len. Apparently, the Duke isn’t especially welcoming to those he feels failed him. They need a new home, and we need patrollers. In time, we’ll likely need at least a squad of our own troopers. Where else would we get men as good?”

  Knutwyl looked to the majer, who nodded.

  “We also healed some who might not have lived,” added Jessyla. “By the time they fully recover, we might be able to use them.”

  “Does the Duchess…” Knutwyl let his words trail off.

  “We couldn’t have fought off Massyngal without help,” said Beltur. “We couldn’t in the future, either. But a squad and a mage can handle up to a company of Hydlenese … and any trader brigands. That’s why the Duchess made us councilors.”

  “She’s aware of what the mages can do … and what they can’t,” added Raelf, looking at Knutwyl, then turning back to Beltur and Jessyla. “We’ve decided that Knutwyl and I will be leaving on fourday. His patrols haven’t seen traces of stragglers lately, but I’d like to make sure over the next few days. I’ve received word to leave a full squad from Weevett here under Daaskin for another two eightdays, or a little longer, if you think it necessary, along with the last supply wagon.”

  “Thank you,” said Jessyla. “That will make matters much easier when we deal with the Hydlenese captives and wounded.”

  “How are you going to handle that?” asked Knutwyl.

  “If they want to leave, we’ll escort them to the border.” She smiled sweetly. “If they want to stay, we’ll find something for them to do. We need structures and houses rebuilt. Who knows, they might even have some skills we’re lacking.”

  “Given the way Massyngal’s behaved,” added Beltur, “we might even attract a few traders once we’ve put things to rights.” He took a sip from the beaker. The brew he and Jessyla had gotten from the widow was definitely better.

  “You might at that,” agreed Raelf. “Haven won’t ever be the same, and it will be good not to have to worry about it. We’re likely to have enough trouble dealing with the Viscount.”

  “Have you heard anything about what’s happened near Passera?” asked Beltur.

  “There have been skirmishes, but no major battles. Not as of an eightday ago. Neither the Prefect nor the Viscount wants to back down, but neither wants a battle that he might lose.”