“Seven years, Raya.”
She stood so fast her stool toppled over. “Seven—!” she blurted out, past astonished. “Why haven’t your men revolted?!”
The commander gave her a bitter smile. “Nowhere to go, Raya.”
That was so wrong on so many levels.
“It gets worse, Bec,” Nolan warned her. “Tell her, Commander.”
“We can’t take leave, Raya.”
Becca was absolutely certain that her ears were not working. That was the only explanation for it. He couldn’t have possibly said what she thought he’d said. Maybe it was an internal mistranslation on her brain’s part. “I’m sorry?”
“He said the men can’t take leave,” Nolan repeated in Chahirese. “You heard him right.”
She stared at him, jaw dangling, simply past words.
“Do you mean to tell me,” Trev’nor demanded of the commander in a hoarse voice, “That once you’ve joined the army, you can’t take leave? Ever?”
“You may return home when discharged,” Captain Hadi answered succinctly.
“No,” Becca blurted out. “No, no, no. That, that…I can’t think of a curse word strong enough!”
“Scumbag? Prick? Pillock? Ratsbane?” Trev’nor supplied helpfully.
Becca flipped a hand into the air. “All of the above. Trexler has turned his own army into slaves!”
That turned the area around her deadly silent.
Commander Danyal went totally expressionless, as still as a statue. “We are not slaves.”
Becca rounded on him, slapping a hand against the table top, sounding it off like a wardrum. “You are conscripted into service without any option of refusing, then are confined to a specific area without the ability to leave. You have no way to see your family or friends when you wish to. You must obey orders otherwise you’re jailed or executed. He pays you a pittance which pays for…what? All food, clothing, daily expenses except housing? Yes, I thought so. How is it different?”
Commander Danyal’s mouth opened. Closed. Not a word escaped.
“The soldiers of a country should be a leader’s pride and joy,” she argued. “They are asked to do tough things, to follow orders even if they don’t agree, to fight under hard circumstances. In return for that loyalty, you deserve the right to go see your families. To be paid as you were promised. Not be treated like this.”
He had no rebuttal for her. Neither did the captains. In fact, they couldn’t meet her eyes.
Trev’nor, more practically, asked Nolan, “Can we fix this?”
“Right this minute? No. But I think we can at least give them leave. I have only the most basic grasp of what the economy and finances are like.” Was that a trace of a smile on Nolan’s face? “I knew you’d be the most passionate about this, Bec, when you found out.”
“You try being raised by the Super Soldier and see how you feel about military service,” she shot back in Chahirese. “Not to mention Aletha.”
“No argument,” Nolan responded, hands raised in surrender. “In that case, I’ll let you work with the military and figure out who needs to go where. It goes without saying that anyone from Sagar or Trexler cannot be given leave yet?”
“Of course. But we’ll do that as soon as we can,” she promised, facing the three officers. “How many of your men are from those areas?”
“Roughly half, Raya,” Captain Nima answered. “All of them, once they hear your promise, will be willing to swear loyalty to you.”
After learning that they had been paid mere pittances and not been given leave for years, Becca was not surprised to hear this. “Let’s go talk to them, then. Nolan, is that your full report on things this thickset varlot has done?”
“That we can immediately pin on him, yes. I think that’s enough to execute him for, don’t you?”
“Just one was bad enough.” Trev’nor pushed back from the table and stood. “Becca, I’ll help you sort out who needs to go where and transport them myself.”
Oh, right, he’d need to for Rurick. The ward was still up after all. “Wait, should we send anyone there now? I mean, no one is there.”
“If we don’t send anyone, then the city will be in disarray and the garden we planted will be dead,” Nolan pointed out. “We need to send in a work crew, to do everything that we didn’t have the time to do, or the city will be in shambles still when we finally do track down the citizens and return them home.”
Becca was of the opinion that they still needed the manpower here, but he was right in that the garden needed tending, and the city did need cleanup. “I think we should give them the option of whether they go or not, though. They might choose to stay and fight with us instead.”
Commander Danyal had a soft expression on his face. Was that possibly a smile? “I will ask them, Raya.”
They likely would be more frank with their commander than they would with her. It was engrained military training to always go where the boss wanted you to. “Please do.”
Heaven help the warlord when she got her hands on him. He’d be lucky to live to his day of judgment with the mood she was in.
“Bec,” Nolan stalled her. “One more thing. Commander Danyal wishes to form up a militia and work with us.”
She stopped mid-stride. “Truly?” She’d assumed they would stay to protect the city, no more.
Danyal met her eyes and Trev’nor’s without flinching. “We have seen your fighting abilities. We are not sure how much help we can be to you on a battlefield. But we would like to help where we can.”
Trev’nor rubbed at the back of his neck. “Commander, honestly, I’m not sure how much help you can be either. At this point, you’re not trained on how to fight with a magician. It’s a very different thing than your usual tactics. But off a battlefield, we will need all the help we can get. Especially when we go into Trexler. We welcome your support.”
Trev’nor yawned his way down the stairs, navigating toward the main room of the inn through blurred vision as his eyes weren’t properly awake yet. He had not had enough sleep the previous night, because as soon as they had finished working outside of the city and returned, they’d been surrounded by dozens of people. It had alarmed Trev’nor to see that many people waiting for them, as it looked like a mob, but it became clear quickly enough that they weren’t angry. Flabbergasted, awed, perhaps a little afraid, yes, but not angry.
Apparently, in the long course of remembered history, no one had really invested in Tiergan. Because it lay near the coast, its first goal was to do as much trade as possible and then pass that wealth onto the warlord’s city of Trexler. The citizens thought they knew how to handle conquerors. They’d assumed that they knew what Trev’nor, Becca, and Nolan wanted. But the mages had turned those assumptions on its collective head. They hadn’t demanded war funds, or tribute, or anything like that. They hadn’t turned the people into slaves or demanded soldiers. Aside from locking up the government officials and some of the army officers, they hadn’t done much of anything. Trev’nor heard people whispering to each other and knew that they were actually relieved to have different people in charge now. The last regime had not been a good one. Just all of that might have been enough, but seeing five mages work all day to improve the land and make it fertile enough to become an oasis destroyed every preconception Tiergan had left.
Trev’nor half-expected their newly appointed leaders to come and talk to them, but it was other people as well, everyday citizens that wanted to speak one-on-one. Nolan handled this flawlessly, accustomed to hearing people’s complaints and addressing them. Trev’nor and Becca both felt more than out of depth and overwhelmed. Still, he struggled to face each person and honestly listen to them. It took time, but they heard every person, and the citizens left satisfied. Mostly, it wasn’t anything serious, but questions of what the future would hold or if such-and-such was possible. Trev’nor answered more magical questions than not as he explained the limits and possibilities of his power.
It had ta
ken most of the night to discuss everything with them but Trev’nor didn’t regret the lack of sleep. He felt now that they had won a tentative trust with Tiergan. The people of this city didn’t really like their warlord, yet they didn’t want to readily accept anyone that came along either for fear of the new version being worse. Trev’nor could understand that.
Ehsan met him at the foot of the stairs. “I was about to wake you.”
No one woke up someone unless it was important. Trev’nor’s brain whirred into a more alert state. “Problem?”
“I don’t know.” Pointing a finger toward the roof, Ehsan said uncertainly, “Becca has been up there for a half hour looking at the sky.”
“Ah, that. Don’t worry about that. It’s a habit of hers to study the sky first thing after waking. She wants to make sure that none of her weather currents have gone astray while she’s sleeping.”
That put the man’s mind to ease a little. “Also, Nolan is sleeping outside with his dragon.”
That didn’t surprise Trev’nor either. “Just his dragon? It’s not his dragon, other dragons, cats, dogs, and two dozen birds?”
Ehsan gave him an odd look. “You already knew?”
“No, I just know Nolan. As a Life Mage, he attracts creatures to him all of the time. He spends half of his life sitting on the ground so that animals can easily access him. I’m not surprised he’s sleeping outside with them.” Trev’nor stretched his arms over his head and finally felt like his blood was flowing. Breakfast first, then he would have to sit down with the other two and come up with a battle plan. They’d discussed going after Sagar first, hitting the remaining smaller town before heading for Trexler, and Trev’nor felt that was the best plan. They had two new mages with them, after all; it would be best to take on a smaller target and iron out any kinks.
There were other magicians awake and sitting at the table. Trev’nor found an open chair and joined them. “Dilshad, Fatemah, Hamide, morning.”
The three gave him automatic smiles and returned the greeting.
“Raja Trev’nor,” Dilshad said in excitement, “the master in the market asked me if I wanted a job.”
He absolutely couldn’t have heard that right. “A job?” While amazing news, that a citizen of Tiergan would respect a magician enough to employ them, Trev’nor had to wonder, “What kind of job?”
“Sagas.”
That word meant nothing to Trev’nor. “A what?”
“A finder,” Ehsan clarified, taking the free seat next to him. “Someone who finds lost objects for a fee.”
Dilshad apparently knew enough Solish to follow and nodded in agreement. “Yes, that. He saw me use scrying bowl.” Uncertain, he asked, “Magicians work like this?”
“Exactly like that,” Trev’nor assured the man firmly. It felt a little odd to do so, as the other man was a good decade older, but in terms of magical training and experience Trev’nor was definitely the senior. “That is a job a magician will take.”
Relieved, Dilshad grinned at his friends, more than smug.
Granted, it was him more than the others that had grasped scrying and its nuances quickly. But he wasn’t the only one that could use the bowl. Trev’nor had to wonder if others would acquire jobs like this, now that they had one person to forge the trail for them. “What kind of things do you search for?”
“Lost or stolen things.”
Made sense. “Do you start today?”
“I do.” Seeming to realize the time, he quickly finished off his plate, bowed at Trev’nor and then took off for the door.
“He’s not the only one hired,” Ehsan informed him. “Three others were hired this morning as well by an information broker. They’re using the mirrors to communicate across the city about market prices and such.”
While very glad for this news, as it meant that the city was starting to accept the magicians as actual citizens, Trev’nor had to wonder at the timing. “Were they influenced to do this after watching us work yesterday?”
“No one says that,” Ehsan responded dryly. “But that is my guess.”
Whatever worked. Trev’nor was not questioning it.
Danyal slammed into the main room, eyes hard. Trev’nor popped out of his chair automatically because he knew that look all too well. The commander came directly to him, vibrating with urgency. “Raja. You say this city is yours. You say you will protect the people. You mean this?”
Trev’nor tapped Ehsan’s shoulder and gave him a meaningful look and jerk of the chin. The other mage understood that signal and quickly got up, heading for the roof to get the other two.
With him dispatched, Trev’nor looked Danyal dead in the eye. “I do. What’s happened?”
“We have been mirror signaled. Trexler knows the city has been taken. He is coming.”
Silence crashed through the room, so absolute that people stopped dead in their tracks, not even daring to breathe.
He said a few choice words under his breath that would have gotten him smacked by Chatta. The one thing they hadn’t been able to predict was what the warlord would do. When Rurick was taken, the man hadn’t made a move as far as they could tell. Or if he had, it had taken him several days to put together his army and dispatch it, long enough that they had already re-taken the place and left for dragon territory before he’d moved. They’d assumed that it would take him as long to react this time, so that they had at least three or four more days in Tiergan before they had to do something.
Nolan showed up in that moment, clothes rumpled from sleeping in weird positions, hair standing up a little in the back. His eyes were clear, though. He came to them and asked, “Ehsan said that the warlord is coming.”
So he’d overheard that, eh?
“Yes,” Danyal said.
“When Trexler comes to re-take one of his cities, how does he attack?” Nolan pressed.
“He attacks front-on.”
Trev’nor did not like this answer. “Like it was an enemy city? He doesn’t try to…” argh, busted buckets, what was the word for negotiate?
Danyal seemed to understand what he was trying to say and shook his head grimly. “No. He attacks.”
He glanced at Nolan and found the same anger and determination in his friend’s face that he was feeling. The people here had not welcomed them as openly as the ones in Rurick had, but they were gradually warming up to their conquerors. They were at least not hostile, not after seeing how much work the mages were putting in to improve the place.
Becca half-tripped down the stairs, she was moving so fast, a worried Ehsan hot on her heels with his arms outstretched as if ready to catch her if she did fall. She was fully dressed, although her hair hung in sleep-made tangles around her face. “Ehsan said that Trexler is coming?”
“He’s coming,” Nolan answered, tone and expression hard. “Apparently he’s coming in full force. It’s also standard tactics for him to attack any occupied city like it’s enemy territory in order to reclaim it.”
Her voice climbed several octaves. “WHAT?”
Danyal’s eyes darted from one face to another, weighing and measuring. “The warlord believes reclaiming the city from enemies to be worth more than his citizens,” he said levelly.
The three mages stood in shocked silence, the other magicians in fearful resignation. Danyal continued to watch them with steadfast intensity.
“No. Absolutely not,” Becca announced firmly, her words echoing through the quiet stillness. “We are not about to let him march in here and destroy everything. Really, what kind of warlord is he? Is he an idiot? Is he a child? ‘If I can’t have it, neither can they’ is that what he thinks?”
Without another word, she spun on her heel and started back up the stairs.
Trev’nor knew that look. He quickly sprinted around the table and caught her wrist. “Wait, where are you going?”
“To hurry up my storm system. I’m calling lightning down on that idiot. Maybe a few tornados too. If I blow his army to smithereens, the
n we don’t have anything to worry about.” She glanced back and tugged at her wrist. “Let go, Trev.”
“She’s not kidding,” Ehsan breathed, awe in his voice.
To the people who did not understand her, others were quickly translating. Trev’nor tried to cut this idea down before it became permanently lodged in everyone’s heads. “Bec, we need a strategy session before we go off and fight this man.”
“I just told you my strategy. A little lightning, a few tornados, poof! Army gone.”
As tempting as that sounded…. “Bec, where are your tornados coming from? North? South? East? West? Do you remember that we spent a full day going completely around this city creating canals, wells, and planting? Do you want to destroy all of that hard work and start from scratch again?”
She opened her mouth on a hot protest, paused, and growled in aggravation. “No tornados?”
“I’d really rather you didn’t,” he said frankly, amused at her vexed expression.
“I hate it when you’re reasonable, you know that, right?”
“I know, I know. You can use tornados next time, promise.”
She shook a finger at him. “I’m holding you to that.”
As they moved to sit back at the table, Trev’nor noticed that Danyal’s posture had relaxed, some of the hard edges in his expression softening. He got the sense that they had passed a test somehow, though what test he wasn’t sure. The validity of their determination, perhaps?
“Ehsan, get Azin for us,” Nolan requested, now that Becca saw sense. “And Commander Danyal, please sit with us. We need information and we need it quickly. I don’t want to fight anywhere near Tiergan. We’d planned to bring this battle to Trexler’s doorstep, but if the warlord is coming out to meet us, then we’ll fight him in the desert.”
Trev’nor sat at the table in the inn’s taproom and waited as everyone settled into place. Danyal had commandeered a map from someone and spread it out on the table for everyone to see, the ends weighted down with cups and forks and knives to keep them from curling up. Azin sat next to him, looking small and shaken, her hands clenching and unclenching in her lap. Facing the warlord terrified her—it was written all over her face.
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