Tulya’s eyes took in Graalur. “Why’s he here?”
“I captured him when the Hydlenese attacked a hamlet south of Haven. I managed to chase them off, but not before they took a young woman captive. Some of the locals there were mad that I hadn’t done more.”
“Everyone’s unhappy that we can’t do more. What do they expect out of four people?”
“The impossible,” answered Lhadoraak dryly. “And that’s what we’ll have to do … sooner or later.”
Waerdyn and the other three troopers appeared on the porch.
“Who was attacking?”
“What happened?”
Beltur held up a hand. “Let us dismount and meet in the front room. We can each tell what we know … including Graalur, here.”
More than a quint later, after everyone had spoken, although Graalur hadn’t said much more than he’d already told Beltur, Waerdyn cleared his throat, then said, “Ser, why did you think the trooper in blue was a dispatch rider?”
Beltur reached into his belt wallet, extracted the scroll pin, and handed it to the scout.
“That’s a courier pin, all right. But you said you only found one Montgren trooper, didn’t you?”
“That’s right.”
“Couriers and dispatch riders always ride in pairs. What happened to the other rider?”
“There wasn’t any sign of another rider, and the vulcrows weren’t circling anywhere else. He might have gotten away.” Beltur paused, musing, “Although it seems unlikely that they’d catch one and not the other, especially with a whole company.”
“Unless they wanted one of them to escape,” suggested Waerdyn. “All the troopers in the company were wearing Lydian uniforms, weren’t they?”
“Frig … frig … frig…” muttered Beltur. “The surviving courier rides back to Weevett and tells the captain there that Lydians are attacking … and not Hydlenese…” He straightened. “I think we need to send two of you back to Weevett with a full description of what’s going on. I’ll ride with you as far as the crossroads to make sure that the false Lydians aren’t around.”
“Taasn and Chestyn are the best courier riders,” said Waerdyn.
“Then get them ready to ride.”
“Lhadoraak … what do you think we should do with Graalur, here?”
“Make him Waerdyn’s charge for now. Ruell can watch him for the moment.”
Beltur nodded.
While Waerdyn helped the two troopers prepare themselves, Beltur sat down at the table and began to write as complete and as succinct a report about what had happened as he could manage.
Jessyla stood at his shoulder.
Every so often he looked up and asked, “Should I say more?”
Three times, she said, “No.” Once she said, “You need to make it clearer that the Hydlenese wanted the false Lydians seen west of Haven … but never south.” The last time, she said, “You might add that the false Lydians avoided having any troopers captured.”
Finally, he asked, “Have I left anything out?”
“Nothing that they’ll understand, and that’s for the best.”
“All of us should sign it.”
When the four had all signed it, Waerdyn rolled the sheets and then eased them into the leather dispatch tube. He looked to Beltur. “It should be sealed, ser.”
In turn, Beltur looked to Tulya.
“Just a moment.” Tulya produced the seal provided by Korsaen and cut a piece of blue sealing wax from one of the sticks also provided, then laid it on the closed top of the tube. “Taelya?”
Taelya stepped forward and concentrated. The tiniest bit of chaos appeared above the wax, which softened.
Warden’s eyes widened.
Tulya pressed the seal in place, then removed it. “We’ve practiced that. It’s much easier than using a flame, and it takes less wax.”
The scout looked at the seven-year-old and then at Beltur.
“I told you she was a beginning mage.” Beltur smiled and turned to the door. “We need to head out.”
The ride from the square to the kaystone, and from there to the junction with the Weevett road, was uneventful. Beltur sensed no riders or groups of men. He even rode another three kays north on the Weevett road, but could sense no one but a shepherd and several scattered people working outside.
At that point, he reined up. “The road’s clear for another two kays. Beyond that, I can’t tell.”
“Thank you, ser,” replied Taasn, who carried the dispatch tube. He nodded and urged his mount forward, as did Chestyn.
Beltur watched the pair for a time, still sensing no other troopers. Then, as he turned Slowpoke back toward Haven, he realized that it was barely past the second glass of the afternoon. It seemed much later than that … much later.
XXXIV
When Beltur finally rode back to the square, Lhadoraak stepped out from the quarters building before Beltur reached the Council House, gesturing to the younger mage. Beltur turned Slowpoke and brought him to a halt several yards short of Lhadoraak.
“I take it that the couriers got away all right?”
“There weren’t any troopers anywhere close. I’d be surprised if the Hydlenese, even those posing as Lydians, would go that much farther north on the Weevett road.” Beltur snorted. “But then, I didn’t expect a whole company in Lydian uniforms. Did you get the bodies and the mounts from Julli?”
“She and Jaegyr had them here less than a quint after you started out with the couriers. Tulya, Taelya, and Jessyla left after that. They took all the weapons to put in the armory under your house. They’re at our house, likely fixing supper.”
“What about the mounts?”
“Since the couriers took their horses, Bythalt had space in his stables. I made the arrangements.”
“And Graalur?”
“Waerdyn and Chestyn are taking care of him right now,” replied Lhadoraak, “with a little help from Gustaan and his men.” Lhadoraak grinned. “I took care of one of your other obligations, too.”
Other obligations? Beltur frowned. What other obligation had he forgotten?
“Aaskar. The stableboy?”
“Oh … frig!” Beltur shook his head. With everything that had happened, he’d totally forgotten the coppers he’d promised.
“He said you’d promised a copper a day.”
“I did.”
“I gave him a silver and said you’d make up any difference in the next day or so.”
“Thank you.” Beltur’s appreciation was heartfelt.
“I told him you’d had a lot to do in the last eightday. I think he actually understood. He said things were better since we came.”
“There are times when even I wonder,” said Beltur dourly. “People weren’t getting killed and having their homes burned.”
“Beltur. People were getting killed. That young trader—Zantaak…”
“Zankar,” Beltur corrected almost involuntarily.
“The serving girl at the inn … and lots of others.” Lhadoraak paused, then added, “The burnings would have happened whether we were here or not. You were the one who pointed that out. They were planned before the Hydlenese even knew we were coming.”
“Still … it’s hard.” Beltur managed a rueful smile. “How are the quarters coming?”
“We’re almost done. I decided just to have them build in platforms for mattresses or pallets. That will cost less over time and be sturdier.”
“That’s a very good idea.”
“It’s also looking like the men in the work crew want to stay. Gustaan’s asked some good questions about what patrollers here should do. He even asked if a patroller who got consorted could be paid a little extra instead of getting lodging. I told him that we could work something out, but we’d need to talk about it.”
“We’ll have to do something.” Beltur smiled. “Does he have his eye on anyone?”
“I don’t think so. He’s just thinking ahead. Why don’t you head home? Gorlaak and
Therran are almost finished for the day here. I’ll be along shortly.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m certain. Besides, Slowpoke needs feed, water, and rest, even if you don’t think you do.”
Beltur had to grin at Lhadoraak’s sardonic declaration. “I hear and obey, sage and elder mage.”
“Elder, perhaps, but not sage. If I were truly sage, I’d have figured out an even better destination for all of us.” Before Beltur could reply, he added quickly, “And don’t ask what, where, or how that might be.”
Or if Haven is the best we could ever do. Beltur didn’t voice that. “I’ll see you before long.” With that he turned Slowpoke and started home.
He was hungry … and more tired than he really wanted to admit.
By the time he had rubbed down Slowpoke, groomed, fed, and watered him, as well as watering and feeding the other horses in the barn, and then washed up and walked over to the other house, Lhadoraak was already there. Everyone was gathered in the kitchen with Tulya at the stove and Jessyla at the side table, slicing something.
The older mage immediately handed Beltur a beaker of ale. “You need this.”
Beltur took the beaker, gratefully.
“Supper won’t be ready for almost another glass,” Tulya announced. “I can’t imagine why.”
Taelya looked askance at her mother.
“Not a word, Taelya,” said Tulya, before smiling. “Everyone knows why.”
“But I—”
“Haven’t we all been busy?” asked Tulya gently, cutting off her daughter’s words. “That’s why. Sometimes we just say what everyone knows, rather than why they do. You’ll understand in time.”
“Like I’ll understand more about order and chaos?”
“Exactly,” said Beltur.
“Those Hydlenese in Lydian uniforms,” said Tulya. “How does the Duke think he can get away with something like that?”
“He’ll ignore what Beltur and the Duchess will say, and he’ll claim that the Lydian attack proves that Montgren can’t protect Haven and the traders coming to Hydolar as well as those on the way to Certis and Gallos. He’ll also send protests to all the other rulers complaining, including one to the Duke of Lydiar,” replied Lhadoraak. “By the time Beltur’s information gets anywhere, the Prefect and the Viscount will be happy to have an excuse to look the other way.”
“I thought that they didn’t want anyone else to take over Haven and this part of Montgren.”
“They likely don’t,” replied Lhadoraak, “but they have more immediate problems, and they’ll leave it to Lydiar, Montgren, and Hydlen—and us—to sort it out.”
“Fight it out, you mean,” snapped Jessyla.
“If that’s what it comes to,” admitted the oldest mage.
“How do we win against Hydlen, then?”
“By making it too costly for them to continue,” said Beltur.
“How do we do that?” pressed Tulya. “We don’t even have a company of troopers, let alone an army.”
“We’ve already started, I think,” replied Jessyla, turning to Beltur and asking, “Isn’t that why you killed the officers? You didn’t say, not exactly, but didn’t you also kill the squad leader who led the attack against that hamlet?”
Beltur nodded. “I did. We can’t kill all the troopers who come against us. Besides, they’re just following orders. If officers or leaders who give the orders are the ones to suffer, before long, just how many officers are going to want to fight?” Even with the Duke’s orders. But that opened another possibility … especially for troopers bright enough to see what was happening. Maybe … just maybe …
“But how many people here will have to die?” asked Tulya.
“Unhappily,” said Lhadoraak slowly, “many of them would die or suffer even if we did nothing. Just … not quite as many.”
“Not necessarily the same people, either,” said Tulya.
“Since we might be among the ones who’d suffer if we do nothing,” said Jessyla dryly, “I prefer Beltur’s approach.”
Beltur said nothing, but took a last swallow from the beaker.
“You look like you need another ale,” said Lhadoraak.
Among other things. “Yes, please.”
“Did you tell Lhadoraak and Tulya about the benches?” asked Jessyla.
Beltur understood that there would be no more talk about fighting for the evening, especially if he wanted to avoid another sort of conflict.
“Benches?” asked Lhadoraak, from where he stood by the kitchen cistern, on top of which was tied the keg of ale from which he was refilling Beltur’s beaker.
Tulya merely smiled, suggesting to Beltur that Jessyla had already told her.
“I arranged for Jaegyr to craft a padded backed bench with two wooden armchairs as well. That’s for each of us,” said Beltur. “That way we can actually sit in the front parlor.”
“And Julli will sew the padding and cushions,” added Jessyla. “Tulya can arrange exactly what you two want.”
“What Tulya wants,” replied Lhadoraak genially, as he walked back to Beltur and handed him the refilled beaker.
“What about me?” asked Taelya.
“You can decide when we get to your furnishings,” said Tulya.
“You promise?”
“We promise,” replied Lhadoraak solemnly.
Beltur and Jessyla smiled.
XXXV
Beltur and Jessyla woke early on threeday, well before dawn, and found themselves looking at each other in the deep gray light.
“You were restless last night,” Beltur ventured. “More than a little.”
“Nightmares. What about you?”
“I kept dreaming that the couriers were ambushed, and that we were facing scores of battalions of Hydlenese troopers … and no one anywhere else in Montgren even knew what was happening.”
“Isn’t that what’s already happened?” asked Jessyla.
“Except for the scores of battalions of troopers,” he admitted.
“So what do we do?”
“I only see two choices. We either do what we planned to do … or we pack up and leave Haven.”
“And if we leave Haven … then what?”
Beltur shrugged. “I don’t know.”
“You said that you believed in the vision of that white mage.”
“I did. I do. He had a vision of a great city with a white tower. We might be the ones to start building that city. We might not. He thought he would be the one to do that. He wasn’t. Are we making the same mistake?” Beltur took a long deep breath. “I don’t know. I knew this wouldn’t be easy, but I’d hoped I was done with killing scores and scores of men whose only fault was that they served someone who wanted to kill me and those with me.”
“There’s always a price,” she said quietly. “We want to build a place where both whites and blacks can live. If we leave here … will we get another chance? Exactly where? And if we do, do you think the price will be any less? From what I’ve seen already, the prices just get higher.”
“You mean…” Beltur didn’t know how to phrase what he wanted to say without it sounding condescending or cruel.
“I’m still a healer. I’m also becoming a mage. Part of that price is that I’m having to kill just to protect other people. I don’t want to have to go somewhere else and do the same thing all over again.”
Do you think I do?
“I don’t want to travel all over Candar,” Jessyla continued, “or the rest of the world, thinking that there might be a better place that will accept us. We’ve been forced out of three countries. That doesn’t count Certis, where healers and mages are little better than servants. Or Westwind, where the Marshal doesn’t want men who are strong and mages. Or Sarronnyn, which isn’t much of an improvement. Just where would be any better?”
Beltur laughed, softly and ironically. “You’ve just answered my questions and your nightmares.” He reached over, took her hand, then bent and kissed it. “We
’d better get started.”
By two quints before seventh glass, they were in the Council House, meeting with Lhadoraak, Waerdyn, and Ruell. Their mounts were tied outside, and each had two water bottles filled with ale, as well as a half loaf of bread.
Beltur was direct. “You and Ruell each have a simple task—to let Lhadoraak and Jessyla know if either the false Lydians or the Hydlenese are moving toward Haven. They’ll be here near the Council House so that they can go in any direction. One of you will take up a post two kays west of the edge of Haven on the main road. The other will do the same two kays east of Haven.”
“You can sense farther than we can see, ser,” Waerdyn pointed out.
“That’s true,” Beltur agreed, “but I can’t be in three places at once. Neither can Jessyla or Lhadoraak, and they’ll need to work together. If I’m in the west I can’t sense as far as a courier posted in the east can see. The same is true if I’m in the south. I’m going southwest to see if I can find out more about what they’re doing, but we don’t know if the false Lydians withdrew to the southeast or due south … or even southwest.” He knew that his recon mission would likely end up being more than that, at least if he ran into Hydlenese forces, but he wasn’t about to say that.
“There are only three of you mages,” Waerdyn said.
“We’ve restrained ourselves so far,” said Jessyla coldly, looking directly at the scout. “This mage is through with that.”
Waerdyn dropped his eyes.
Even Lhadoraak stiffened slightly.
“Do you have any other questions?” asked Beltur.
“No, ser.”
“Then I’ll be heading out to see what I can discover. I hope to get where I’m going before they’ve made much progress.” He nodded to Waerdyn, then looked to Jessyla. “I intend to follow your advice.”
“Good.”
Once outside, Beltur wasted no time in mounting and leaving the square, riding south between the Council House and the healing house. He had already decided not to ride under a concealment, at least not in the beginning. He and Slowpoke could move more quickly if they could see clearly, and since the Hydlenese were already crossing the border all the time the Hydlenese couldn’t claim he was the invader. He smiled tightly at that thought. They’ll claim whatever they think will serve the Duke’s purposes. Given how the current situation had developed, all that mattered any longer was who won—whatever that means—and who controlled Haven and the lands around the town when the fighting was over, one way or another.
The Mage-Fire War Page 27