The Silvered

by Tanya Huff

  “It’s important they don’t wake up, sir.”

  “I did gather that, yes.”

  Rather than attempt an explanation, Reiter pulled his orders from inside his tunic, and passed them across the desk. The major’s gaze rested a moment on the Imperial seal, then he read the single page quickly and passed it back.

  “Clear enough. Creep into Aydori, capture six mages, take them to Karis. While I’m well aware ours is not to question why…” Reiter suspected Halyss would question the emperor himself given the opportunity. “…I don’t suppose you were given a reason for your covert mission?”

  “Yes, sir. But I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “Not even to me?”

  “No, sir.”

  “Something that inexplicable, my guess is Soothsayers.” Halyss said my guess is like he meant and I know flaming well. “Crazy bastards.” He made the insult sound personal. “So this girl in the cells…?”

  “She’s the sixth mage. Lieutenant Geurin is on the way to Karis with the other five. I had her. I lost her.” Reiter met the major’s gaze. “Now, I have her again.”

  “Good for you. Given the chaos you pulled her from, I suspected as much—not that she was your mage, of course, but that she was a mage, and so I checked her eyes. As I said, I was curious. Thing is…” Halyss leaned forward. “…mages have been a bit of a hobby of mine. Why is it mage-craft is dying out in the empire but still strong in the old mountain countries?”

  “Science?” Reiter offered when it became clear Halyss actually wanted an answer.

  “That’s a theory, but I’ve found no reason science and mage-craft can’t coexist. It must be something else, mustn’t it? At any event, this hobby of mine has to do with why I’ve been sent to the front. I’m more useful here.” The major’s affectations slipped just for a heartbeat. If Reiter hadn’t been watching him so closely for his own protection, he’d have missed it. It seemed Halyss wasn’t happy about his orders. “Those five women you were to capture, pardon me, six, are not the only mages in Aydori. Their artillery has more Fire-mages than cannon by all reports. Oh, yes…” He sat back and raised a hand, as though Reiter, sitting silently, had commented. “…her eyes. No mage marks. They’re not dependent on consciousness, by the way. No mage marks, not a mage.”

  “So I’ve always believed, sir. But this confirmed it.” Reiter pulled the tangle from his pocket and set it on the desk. Halyss’ eyes widened, surprise evoking an honest response.

  “This is from the Archive,” he said, confirming the rumors of his previous post. Only someone who’d spent significant time at court would know about the Archive, let alone recognize an artifact taken from it. He reached out, paused, and only continued when Reiter nodded. “You realize, don’t you, that this little golden net is probably worth more than everything you and I will ever own in our entire lives?”

  “Because of the gold…”

  “Because it can’t be duplicated.” Fingers through the weave, Halyss held the tangle up to the light.

  “There were six of them, sir.”

  Halyss stared at him for a long moment. “Not what I meant, Captain.” The fine gold chain glittered as he turned it. “We have lost the knowledge and the ability to create more and an attempt to regain even some small part of that knowledge is…” He stopped and stared at the tangle, mouth partially open. When Reiter followed his line of sight, the only thought in his head was suddenly, probably worth more than everything you and I will ever own in our entire lives.

  “Do you know what this looks like, Captain?”

  “It was like that when it came off the mage, sir.”

  “Not what I asked.”

  “It looks…melted?”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Major Halyss tapped the blackened ends of the two broken sections. “Enough heat to melt this would have been enough heat to melt at least another inch or two of the gold. And these links, while elongated, aren’t melted. Emperor Leopald has been experimenting with electricity…”

  And other things, his tone added. Reiter suspected he didn’t want to know what those other things were.

  “…and this almost looks as though it had been overloaded. The weak points blew, the rest…” He poured the tangle into his hand. “Well, as I said, almost. This happened when she removed it?”

  “I can’t say for certain, sir. All I know is that she had it on, and when I found it lying on the ground, it was like that.”

  “That’s impossible.” As the major seemed to be speaking to himself, Reiter ignored the clearly incorrect statement. “You disagree?”

  Apparently, he hadn’t been ignoring it completely enough. “It wasn’t hit by lightning, sir. That I can say for certain.”

  Dark brows rose. “You can say for certain it wasn’t hit by lightning?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “All right,” Halyss allowed, his slight smile almost an apology, “clearly not impossible.” Slipping a finger through one of the unaffected sections, he lifted it and let it dangle. “She was responsible for that disaster in the market.”

  It wasn’t really a question. Reiter answered it anyway. “I believe so, sir.” The attacks had stopped after he punched her; that made her involvement hard to argue against.

  “It’s been reported she used five of six crafts. That’s not entirely unusual, you know. There are records in the Archives of powerful mages dabbling in the other disciplines—Air-mages can light a candle, Water can blow it out—but I’ve never read anything suggesting the level of power witnessed this morning. Although, in fairness, I’d barely got started in the Archive before I was ordered to the front. Who knows what potentially useful information is buried in there.” The resentment resurfaced to be quickly buried again. “I don’t suppose you observed any evidence of healer-craft this morning, Captain?”

  “No, sir.”

  “No real surprise. From the initial reports, I don’t imagine she was very interested in healing anyone.”

  Had a type of healing magic put Armin to sleep, Reiter wondered. But all he said was, “I expect not, sir.”

  “The lack of marks concerns me.” The dark brows drew in. “If Aydori is breeding stealth mages, that’s not going to go well for us.”

  “But we’re winning.” The front was outside Bercarit, waiting for artillery.

  Halyss waved that off. “We always win. We’re the empire.” He rolled his eyes. “As though there’s only ever been one. However, that said, His Imperial Majesty has lost interest in this particular battle. I suspect, although don’t quote me on this…” It sounded like a friendly warning. Reiter knew it wasn’t. “…the battle was a feint to allow you and this…” The tangle poured from hand to hand. “…to succeed. We may take Bercarit. We may pull back to the border, I don’t know.”

  Yet, the pause said.

  “My source believes she was protecting her companion this morning in the market.” When Reiter raised his brows, Halyss waved it off. It was none of Reiter’s business who he got his reports from. “I made sure the silver pin stayed in his shoulder, by the way. You didn’t mention it. He can’t change to the wolf form as long as it’s there.”

  That explained why the burned man had dared try and claim the bounty. The fool had thought the more dangerous of the two had been neutralized.

  “His Imperial Majesty has been sending pins around the empire with the couriers and the proclamation. Between the pins and all the shot, it makes me wish I’d been paying enough attention to invest in silver a few years ago.” He smiled dazzlingly, unconcerned when Reiter didn’t return it. “So, you’ll be taking the girl—and I imagine as much of the drug as the surgeon will give you—to Karis as ordered by His Imperial Majesty.” Fingers half curled around the chain as though he had to force himself to let go, Halyss passed the tangle back. “There are people at the palace who are going to want to have a look at that. What are you going to do with the boy?”

  He didn’t know. He’d only known he couldn’t leave him lyi
ng in the square. The thought of having him scalped or skinned for a bounty made him feel sick.

  Halyss’ expression had gone so neutral, Reiter knew he’d let that show as well. Not safe. Not safe at all. He didn’t know how it was among civilians, but in the Imperial army, the emperor’s will was not questioned. As his first sergeant had said, “The emperor decrees; we agree.” The emperor had decreed the beastmen were abominations. Outside even the laws that governed the use of animals. Reiter considered himself as good a liar as anyone who sometimes had to deal with incompetent superiors, but the absolute absence of emotion in the major’s level stare suggested he not attempt to lie now. So he said nothing at all.

  After a long moment, Halyss nodded, as though he’d heard what he wanted to. “Take him with you. His Imperial Majesty’s been collecting them for a while.”

  “Why? I’m curious,” he added when the major’s brows went up. The major had, after all, been curious first.

  “No idea.” Halyss answered flatly, absence of tone a warning. “He could be studying the enemy. He could be having rugs made. The point is, the boy’s not covered on your current orders, so I’ll write an addendum that’ll clear it with transport.”

  Reiter wondered what he was being warned about. Not to be curious? “Thank you, sir.”

  “Well, you can’t leave him here. They’ll skin him for sure.” The major grinned, the hail fellow well met back in place, but the expression in his eyes unreadable. “It’s a long way from here to Karis, Captain, and on a trip that long, anything can happen.”

  The emphasis was slight, but Reiter knew he hadn’t imagined it.

  Hand in his pocket, Reiter let the tangle’s fine gold links slide over his fingers as he watched a nameless private load the girl into the wagon. Her hands and feet were tied and both would be secured to a ring in the wagon’s side, but—more importantly—her head lolled against the private’s shoulder. Ancient artifacts had failed; time to give science a chance. The work party had been less careful when loading…

  Major Halyss, Reiter realized, had only ever referred to him as “the boy” not “the abomination” or even “the beastman.” When Reiter thought of him as “the boy,” he saw he didn’t look any older than hundreds of soldiers in the Imperial army. Young men away from home for the first time, determined to fight bravely no matter what because they had no idea of what that could mean. Soldiers Reiter had commanded, led into battle, watched die, watched deal with having killed.

  Might be best if he not think of him as the boy.

  Might be too late.

  The work party had been less careful when loading the male prisoner, Reiter amended, having tossed him into the back of the wagon, roughly arranging his limbs only after the surgeon supervising had intervened. When the surgeon turned away, one of the detail had laughed, lifted the boy’s head by a handful of hair, and said something Reiter hadn’t caught. There could be no doubt it concerned the bounty.

  “It’s five days minimum to Karis even if your orders allow you to commandeer space in a mail coach as soon as you cross the old border.” Surgeon Major Raynold crossed her arms and glared at Reiter, at the wagon, at the backs of the dismissed work party, at nothing in particular. “No one’s ever been kept under, or even partially under, that long. I’m telling you again, it isn’t safe.”

  “It won’t be safe if they aren’t under.”

  Raynold ignored him. “Let them come out of it as far as possible before you put them under again. Unless you want them to die on the way, make sure they drink while they’re conscious enough to swallow. Get as much water into them as you can. Oh, and keep checking that the pulse remains steady. You know how to do that?”

  “I do.”

  “Not that it matters; if the pulse starts to flutter, your only option is to hope they throw off the effects of the drug before the heart stops. And that means your only choice will be to let them die or take your chances with an angry mage or a furious beastman.”

  “He can’t change with that silver pin in his shoulder.”

  “Then make sure it remains in his shoulder. I wish I’d had more time to study him. That hair’s fur you know. Teeth are larger, bones are heavier. I’d like to see one change. I never have.”

  With them declared abomination, it was unlikely she ever would.

  “You’re certain the girl’s a mage? I examined her eyes and there’s nothing there.”

  “I’m certain.”

  “That’s a new one on me, then. My mother had a couple of healer marks. Gold flecks. Couldn’t see them unless you knew to look. Still…” A nervous laugh and she pinched the bridge of her nose. “These two, they’re not in great shape, but there’s nothing wrong with them that should kill them before you get them to Karis. There’s bruising on both torsos from the gentle application of boots. I expected her ribs to be cracked at least, but they’re solid. He’s got a recent scar on one shoulder, and she’s got fresh scars on her heels. Oh, and you’re lucky you didn’t break her jaw when you put her out. There’s new swelling there on top of old.” She nodded down at the leather satchel on the ground between them. “Everything you need’s in the case, so there’s no point in me staying here while you wait for your driver. I’ve work of my own to do; a dozen wagonloads of wounded came back from the front this morning.”

  “Did you hear how it’s going?”

  Surgeon Major Raynold snorted. “People are still getting shot. Bleeding out. Losing arms. Legs. Eyes. More rending and tearing than usual, but, otherwise, that’s how it always goes. Remember, water your prisoners every time they wake. If you can convince them to behave without putting them back under, their chances of arriving alive go up, but, for pity’s sake, use no more of the drug than I showed you. Too much and they’ll not only be dead, but you’ll have wasted anesthetic I could have put to better use.” She took two strides toward the hospital tents, then she paused and turned. “Oh, and one of the drug’s components is flammable. Very flammable. All things considered, you’d best remember that, too.”

  Reiter considered the man-shaped torch as he watched Raynold disappear between the tents, and he wondered how dangerous it was keeping flammable liquids under canvas, the garrison’s hospital being at best about half built. No surprise army bureaucracy had decided the paperwork needed a solid structure before the wounded.

  He racked his musket, then tucked the satchel in under the wide seat and pulled out his watch. Half one. The transport sergeant, while not pleased about both circumstances and Major Halyss interfering with his scheduling, had said there’d be a driver available at…

  “Captain Reiter!”

  “Chard?” No mistaking the squint or the grin even if he hadn’t recognized the voice before he turned. “I left you at Bercarit.” Major Gagnon had been happy to accept three more muskets and the men able to shoot them. “The Shields don’t leave Karis, so they can’t be Shields, can they? I was hoping for a little more in the way of reinforcements, but they’ll do.”

  “Yes, sir, you did, but they were short drivers, so I came with the wounded this morning. I thought I was done with horses when I joined, but I guess not.” He glanced into the back of the wagon. “Hey, you caught her again. Why would she come to…?” He squinted across the road at the city, looking confused.

  “Abyek,” Reiter sighed.

  “Yeah, Abyek. Why would she come here instead of going home?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “She dead, Cap?”

  “No. Neither of them are,” he continued, cutting off Chard’s next question. “Stow your pack and let’s go.”

  “Looks dead,” Chard noted, reaching in and moving the girl’s arm out of the way before dropping his pack in beside her. “Still warm, though. Who’s he?”

  Abomination. Beastman. Boy. But this was Chard…“The dog.”

  Chard froze, halfway up onto the wagon. “The dog? Wait, from that night? No shit! I mean,” he added hurriedly, “no shit, sir. That’s my dog? The big black one
?” He slid his musket into the rack, sat, and twisted around to take another look. “I can’t get over how much they look like people.”

  …gold hoops in her ears.

  “Let’s go, Private. It’s a long way to Karis.”

  “That’s just what Major Halyss said, Cap.” Chard unwound the reins from the brake, and slapped them down. “Walk on.” The big gelding shook himself, as though he were shaking his harness back into position, and started out of the yard.

  “Major Halyss?”

  “Yes, sir. Met me down by the hospital tents where I was helping unload the wounded and said you needed a driver. Said you needed someone who wasn’t going to get all stupid about mages and that tangle thing and stuff. That he’d made it smooth with transport and I was to meet you here. The horse’s name is Thunder because he has wicked bad farts.”

  “Major Halyss said that?”

  “Not the bit about the horse. Found that out on my own from a guy in transport.”

  With the Duchies of Pyrahn and Traiton now the Imperial Provinces of Pyrahn and Traiton and Imperial governors installed in both Ducal Seats, trade had begun to pick up again. Reiter thought of what he’d said to the young corporal in the square about how people just wanted order made out of chaos. The armies of both duchies, the nobility, the stupidly patriotic had retreated to make a stand in Aydori. Most people—well, not the people who’d been living where the empire wanted to put a garrison, but most people—had just got on with their lives as best they could. After generations of conquest, most people had acquired a certain fatalistic opinion about the empire’s advance. Practice allowed Imperial bureaucracy to get things up and running with terrifying efficiency. As Chard passed an enormous wagonload of brick pulled by four huge black horses with feet like dinner plates and feathered ankles—Were there ankles on a horse?—he wondered if trade had even bothered to stop. He did know there were piss-all privately owned horses now in either province since both sides had been drafting them as theirs were shot. Any horse in Pyrahn or Traiton currently either worked for the army or for Imperial interests.