Magician In Exile (Power of Poses Book 2)
Page 23
In a moment, a disheveled white head popped over the bushes that hid the flyer. He leaned against the central post and waved. “Found a friend?” Ben said.
Neel looked the farmer in the eye. “Are you a friend?”
The man put out his hand. “Good as…” He looked over to Ben. “You two fancy a breakfast? I don’t have much, but you are welcome to share.”
Ben walked out into the meadow. “I would be very happy for that. Neel and I missed dinner last night.”
Neel grinned. “We did, didn’t we? No wonder I lost so much vim and vigor on our trip.”
“How would I know?” Ben waved his hand. “I was out cold for most of the time, wasn’t I?”
The farmer looked around the meadow. “I don’t see a wagon or a carriage anywhere.”
“That broken down wagon? Our magical conveyance,” Neel said. “Want a ride?”
“Ride?” The farmer’s face filled with concern.
Soon Neel set them down in front of the farmer’s house.
“People would pay for a trip like that,” he said, scratching his balding head.
“And you will, too. Breakfast, right?” Ben said.
The farmer brightened. “Right!” He opened the door to the house and called for his wife.
When they sat down to eat, Neel began to ask about the Loyalist Army after profusely complimenting the farmer’s wife for a well-appreciated breakfast of eggs, bacon, ham, fried green tomatoes, and thick, fresh bread baked early that morning and slathered with butter.
“Not much for breakfast, eh?” Ben said. It didn’t take him long to eat his fill.
“How far is the army?” Neel said.
“They must be five or six leagues to the north of us and east a bit. Don’t got no maps of anything other than my farm, I’m afraid.”
“No need to be afraid,” Ben said. “How many men under General Niamo?”
“Ten, twenty thousand. I never did count. I sold a wagon of provisions when they went through the market town to the east. Lots of men, and women, too. All armed to the teeth with grim faces.”
“Probably scared out of their wits,” Ben said.
The farmer nodded. “Maybe that, too. Now that I think of it, someone mentioned a foreign magician flying around. Husband and wife, I think they said. Didn’t pay no attention to them,” the farmer said.
“Lord Asem and his wife, Kulara,” Ben said. “We both met them on the way to Kizru.”
The farmer furrowed his brow. “I haven’t heard of a place like that.”
“The Toryan capital, far to the south. We were there weeks ago, now. His best friend is there still.” Ben nodded to Neel.
“And now that you’ve given us a wonderful breakfast, perhaps your better half would like a quick ride before we head north?” Neel said with a grin on his face.
The woman let Neel take her up ten stories and then pleaded with him to descend.
“That’s good enough for me!” she said, looking at her husband with accusing eyes. “You liked doing that?” She shivered and wished them good luck before ducking back into her house.
“Don’t pay her no mind,” the farmer said. “She’ll be telling all of her friends come church time about her adventure. You go get them rebels for us. I don’t need no magicians telling me what to do.” The man’s eyes went round. “Present company excluded, of course.”
Ben laughed. “Present company included. We don’t want other magicians telling us what to do, either. Right, Neel?”
Neel merely nodded and climbed back aboard the flyer. Ben waved as they rose twenty stories into the air and took off to the north.
With some rest and some food, Neel felt they could go faster. Without the need of a shield below them, Ben could take over when Neel began to get tired.
Before midday, they spotted a massive cloud of dust.
Ben pointed. “Army.” He squinted. “I do believe I see a large bird flying over the army, or is it a flyer? Shall we intercept them?”
Neel stopped his pose and turned around to peer into the distance. “We shall.” He reassumed his pose, and soon they floated next to Asem and Kulara.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Ben said, with a twinkle in his eye.
Asem looked behind them. “I don’t see a massive fleet of Toryan flyers behind you, so I imagine your efforts failed.”
Ben colored a bit. Neel could tell easily against the man’s white hair. “Yes and no. Why don’t you escort us to General Niamo and we can tell the story all at once.”
Asem bowed. “Your wish is my command. Kulara will lead the way.” He gave his wife some instructions and Neel turned and followed Ben’s commands. They put down next to a large wagon.
The four of them stood in front of General Niamo, Senior Dalistro and Misson.
“I am sorry I can’t properly receive you. My tent…” Niamo tapped a riding crop on the side of the wagon, “is in there, and I can’t wait for it to be set up.”
Neel smiled at Ben and let the older man tell their story from leaving Asem to leaving Trak behind with the two flyers.
“So we have a large army that can attack our left flank at any time.”
Neel shook his head. “Not at any time. We have given you plenty of notice.”
“Should we wheel the army and attack them head on?” Senior Dalistro said.
“We aren’t tacticians, sir,” Ben said. “But we can observe. Trak, Honor, and the others will do what they can to stop the column, but five people against six thousand means they won’t do a great deal.”
Neel thought of Trak’s growing reluctance to inflict harm on his enemy. The boy’s confidence had weakened in front of his eyes during their travels in Torya. Trak didn’t exactly disappoint his father, Neel knew. He showed a great deal of courage at every step, but they were in a war, and if Trak hesitated, it could mean the end of him against a ruthless opponent.
The General and Garono Dalistro mounted and rode as their part of the column began to move again.
Misson stayed behind, letting soldiers and wagons flow around them. “You four will join me for dinner tonight. If you wish to fly ahead, the camp is already in the process of being set up.” Misson’s eyes sparkled. “My tent is much farther ahead and will be ready when I get there. I believe there are a few small lakes in the vicinity. You might want to refresh yourselves before I arrive. I apologize in advance for arriving as you see me now.” He spread out his arms showing them his dusty clothes. “I do believe flying is cleaner than riding in the midst of a traveling army.”
~
Misson smiled when he rode up to his tent. Ben Nomia and Neel Cardswallow sat on two of three folding chairs in front. Each held a flagon of something that they enjoyed and saluted Misson with a hearty gulp when he arrived in front of him.
A soldier took his horse after Misson had removed his own saddlebags. “Well met, Gentlemen,” he said in Pestlan. “I trust you have already worked out a solution to our Kandannan problem.”
Neel’s eyes brightened and lifted his flagon. “After a few of these, I am sure the world will be at peace again.”
Ah, he regretted the prospect of Neel as an enemy. The way the world currently turned, anything could happen. “I suppose you already have one for me?”
“I’m disappointed you asked. I was hoping to drink it myself.” Neel pulled a similar drinking vessel from behind his chair covered with a white cloth. “By the way, I haven’t used the handkerchief, yet.”
Misson sat down and took a draft. He sputtered out some of the contents in his mouth. “This isn’t beer, this is good wine!” They must have raided his personal stores.
“Nothing but the best for your friends,” Ben said, smiling.
“My friends, indeed.” Misson growled and took a proper sip. He closed his eyes and savored the vintage. “Indeed.” He sighed. “I wish we were in the garden of my family house in Espozia. If the rebels haven’t absconded with it all, I have even better bottles well-hidden, I hope.”
“Yet. With the guilt he feels, it won’t be long,” Neel said.
Misson hadn’t heard any of this before. “He is a brave youth in my experience with him.”
After a sigh from Ben, the older man began to explain Trak’s recent questioning the necessity of taking a person’s life.
“Ah, poor boy. He’s still a teenager and suffers from a lack of experience. A war isn’t quite the right place to ease his moral pains, is it?” Misson said.
Ben shook his head. “I worry for him. He has great potential and if he begins to doubt himself…”
Misson patted the older man on the shoulder. “Trak has realized a good deal of that potential. Asem told me that he is an Innovator among the Colcanans.”
“Was.” Neel said. “They sentenced him to death and threw him off the highest tower in Bitrium.”
Ben cleared his throat. “Luckily, I knew of the likelihood of an execution and saved him.”
“Ah, now I remember. We talked of this in Mozira when I first arrived with Valanna. This flyer business is rather stunning. Valanna is flittering around eastern Santasia like a butterfly. She is part of a small army that will be collapsing on Espozia soon enough.”
“Not until you cross the Glazia, am I right?” Neel said. “The Kandannan army combined with the rebels can push you into the river.”
Misson nodded. “Something to talk about with my father and Adolphus, General Adolphus Niamo. Until them, let us drink a bit more of this wine. Lady Kulara and her husband Lord Asem should be joining us before too long with a report on the rebel army.”
The presence of these two lightened Misson’s outlook, despite their news. He had already suspected that a sizable Kandannan force could slip past the Toryans. His impression of those furtive people hadn’t changed with Neel’s quick discussion of the situation. He would just have to be patient and wait until evening when the pair presented their full story in Adolphus’s tent.
He leaned back and took another sip of his wine. The pair certainly picked an expensive vintage. He sniffed the flagon, looking forward to another one of Neel’s stories of his adventures in Pestle. Misson realized that he had enjoyed his interludes in Pestledown more than he thought.
~
Asem stayed away from Neel Cardswallow as they gathered around a map of the northern part of Santasia. The army’s camp looked to be towards the bottom of the map. He waited for the introductions of Ben and Neel to the others.
Misson glowed with good cheer. Asem wondered if the three men had enjoyed a late afternoon in their cups. Misson became more accommodating and charming when drunk. That only made Asem think more highly of the Santasian spy. He wished he had a few Neels and Missons in the pay of the Warishian network in Pestledown.
The General called on Asem. “Where are the rebel forces?”
“I wouldn’t call it a full-scale retreat. I didn’t see panic in the orderly columns. They stop regularly and continue to train their forces. The rabble is getting less so,” Asem squinted at the map. “but they aren’t headed towards Espozia, but have veered to the east.” He put his finger on the map and moved it towards a river. “Curious, yes?”
“It fits,” Neel said. “They lure us to where they are headed, and the Kandannan army comes behind from the west. If they wheel to the east when they reach the River Glazia, then they can turn, and you are caught between two armies.”
“What is the terrain like in that spot?” General Niamo said, looking at one of his senior officers.
“They are going up the wide valley where the River Halgo runs north to merge with the Glazia. If we travel down the length of the valley, we will have small hills on either side.”
“High ground flanking us all the way,” Senior Dalistro said. “Not an imposing advantage for them, but it’s still an advantage.”
Niamo nodded his head. Asem saw the rebel strategy clearly when Neel mentioned the Kandannan army. “Where do we think the Kandannan army is?”
“Here,” Ben said. “They were about here when we split off. If this map is correct—“
“It is correct,” the General said flatly.
Ben gave the General a tiny bow. “Then they would turn east right after the edge of this little mountain range.”
“Indeed. I’m not going to put up with this. We will meet the Kandannans first and then the rebels. In order to complete their strategy, they need to get to the river, and that gives us much needed space.” The General rubbed his stubbled chin. “Mirona’s army?”
“Approximately here. They are just about to their staging area on the other side of the Glazia, sir. They will wait there until told to move on to Espozia,” an officer said.
“New orders.” The General peered at Asem. “Take your flyer and bring orders to the Colonel to cross the river again and head west. We will do a flanking maneuver of our own. It wouldn’t hurt to know what is between the Colonel and that tributary valley. We will talk strategy tomorrow after thinking about the situation on the road. You are all dismissed. Asem, leave tomorrow at dawn. Leave your wife here.” He looked over at Ben and Neel. “Take Cardswallow with you. Your wife can work with Ben for us.”
Asem walked out of the command tent confused by the General’s order. He drifted over to Misson who had just conferred with the officers in his group.
“Why the switch?”
Misson chuckled a bit and that rankled Asem a bit. “He doesn’t trust the Colcanans. He does trust you and your wife. Spread the risk.”
Asem had missed that for some reason. He mentally chided himself for not thinking strategically enough. He had recently spent too much time with Kulara, he thought. He wasn’t getting soft, but his mind wasn’t quite as sharp. Traveling to Valanna’s army would certainly give him the opportunity to hone his edge.
He had to search for Neel, but ran into Kulara first.
“Ah, my love, we are in for a separation. I will miss your divine presence.”
Kulara laughed. “Is that what you call it?” She slapped him on his shoulder. “Take care of yourself. Can you trust the Pestlan?”
Asem’s sense of character had rarely let him down. “I think I can. I’ll have a better chance to find out now rather than glaring at each other in the future when we are headed in different directions. If I can open a channel into the Pestlan resistance, it might be very helpful for a number of reasons.”
“Co-opting the enemy?”
Asem shook his head gently. “No. We’ve talked about a greater stirring in the world. I sense that alliances may shift once or twice or more in the coming years. We need as many friends—“
“Friends? They would kill us in Pestle.”
“Acquaintances? People who we know and know us set up the thinnest of bonds, but they are connections, nevertheless. A man…or woman…good in my line of work grooms the connections.”
“Ah. I understand, my gentled prince,” Kulara said as her eyes flashed. “Find your Pestlan, and then come to me tonight. We have words to say before we part.”
“Words?”
Kulara laughed and walked into the night, leaving Asem smiling. He cleared his throat and sought out Misson’s tent.
“Is Neel Cardswallow around?” Asem said to Ben.
“Inside rummaging around Misson’s wardrobe for more appropriate attire.”
“I see,” Asem said. He did see. Neel’s clothes were more than travelworn and, quite frankly, gave off the aroma of a man on the march for days.
He stepped inside Misson’s tent. “Misson?”
“He’s not here,” Neel said holding up a tunic with his back to Asem. He turned around. “Oh. Might as well sit down and talk while I find something that won’t get me shot as a foreigner by either side.”
“I see your point,” Asem said.
“Right. I don’t want to see anyone’s point on this little trip.” Neel threw another tunic on a pi
le at his feet. “I’m done here, but this is as good a place to talk as anywhere. Misson won’t return for another hour or so. He is inspecting his troops.”
“Misson’s a good leader, better than his father or the General give him credit for.”
Neel frowned. “And you are a good enough leader to tell?” Asem heard tinges of antagonism in his voice.
“I’m a good enough judge of men. We are about the same age, aren’t we?”
Neel shook his head. “I am younger by some years, I suspect.”
“I’ve fought for years in the deserts of Warish and have, as you know, worked in the background for King Marom.”
“I know. You are good at what you do.”
Asem narrowed his eyes. “And are you good at what you do?”
Neel snorted out a laugh, more of a bark, it seemed to Asem. “I’m hardly victorious, am I? I was able to get Prince Nez killed.”
“Oh, you were behind that. Good work. There were so many layers that Marom couldn’t quite tell who had sent the messages.”
“I’m also on the run. Things were too dangerous in Pestledown. I can’t go back.”
“Not yet,” Asem said. “But don’t give up hope. There will come a time, I think. Harl Crustwillow amplifies our work in Pestledown. I’m not the monarch, but King Marom’s idea of ruling Pestle isn’t as, shall we say, rigid as King Harl’s?”
“You make it sound like Pestle will return to a free state once the king is overthrown.”
“Not necessarily free, but a better than it is now. I think this conversation is best postponed for another point in time. There are a lot of unforeseen developments that can happen to spoil any predictions, and there are other enemies who would generate more dire circumstances in Pestle than Warish.”
Neel’s eyes brightened. “I agree with you. Can we speculate about that? We might find more common ground.”
Asem smiled and got up. “We can do that as we go. I am going to spend the rest of tonight saying goodbye to my lovely second wife. I look forward to traveling with you, Neel. I’m afraid I’m not particularly adept at making magical wind, but I can shield us.”
“Another common interest. I can share with you what we’ve learned about flying.”