The Wandering Mage (Convergence Book 2)

by Melissa McShane

  I nearly passed out, it hurt so badly. I wiped tears from my eyes, gritted my teeth, and did it again, and again. It took so many seconds to reorient between flits, and hurt so badly, that several times I thought about giving up and walking. Then, as I was bent over trying not to faint, I heard someone shout, “You! What are you doing out past curfew?” and I flitted again out of sheer panic, and kept going until I fetched up against the wall.

  My coat is a dark gray—the blood didn’t show in the darkness, not that anyone would have cared—and I was able to lean against the black stones of the wall and breathe deeply for a few seconds. I couldn’t believe how nice the cold stone felt against my face, when only an hour before I’d been complaining about freezing.

  The gate was about a hundred feet from where I stood, and the soldiers guarding it were alert but not active. Nobody there knew yet what had happened at Janeka Manor. Even so, they were unlikely to let me out no matter what I said. So I worked the walk-through-walls pouvra and went through the wall. Then I flitted once as far as I could go, not paying attention to my direction, just wanting to get away and out of sight.

  I collapsed when I landed and lay on the snowy ground, unable to move my legs. I could see nothing but the snow and a sliver of dark sky, and I remember thinking there was some great significance to the two things being lined up together like that, but I realize now I was hallucinating.

  Eventually I started to shiver, and I managed to push myself up and look around for the camp. I’d gone much too far, though at the time I was light-headed enough from blood loss I didn’t even know which direction I was facing, much less whether the cluster of lights I was aiming at was the right one. I think I figured I was probably going to die if I didn’t get help soon, and if I chose wrong, and they killed me, at least I’d made a decision. Then I flitted, and landed outside the eastern picket line of the Balaenic Army camp.

  I staggered forward until I found a soldier, then I collapsed on him and didn’t remember anything else until I woke up in the bed of a moving wagon, my back still aching but much less painful than it had been. The wagon’s jolting sent little spikes of pain through my back, but it was the sort of pain that’s easy to ignore because it reminds you you’re still alive.

  I lay there with my mind a white blur for a few seconds, then I tried to cry out for help, but succeeded only in making a faint croaking sound. I tried again and managed something louder that sounded like a cat’s meow, and tried to get up, but failed utterly.

  Moments later, the camp surgeon hopped into the wagon, followed closely, to my relief, by Cederic, who looked as if he hadn’t slept for days. I’d never seen him so unkempt. He crouched beside me and took my hands in his, and he looked so distraught I said, “I’m not dead, you know.”

  “That is because your God-given reserves of luck have not yet been drained,” he said. “You lost a great deal of blood, and you kept going insubstantial while the surgeon tried to stitch your wound. I am afraid you are going to have a very long, very crooked scar.”

  “I don’t mind as long as I’m alive,” I said.

  “Let’s check that wound,” the surgeon said, and I had to submit to being prodded for a bit, and it hurt, but, again, not as much as being stabbed had. He changed the dressing, said, “You should probably lie on your side, if you can manage it,” and left me alone with Cederic. He helped prop me up, and the pain diminished, though the little jolts kept on jabbing me. He made a seat for himself in the thick pile of bedding I rested on, and I held his hand while he stroked my hair with the other.

  We sat like that for a while, not speaking. I was trying to decide whether I should tell my story first, or ask him to tell his. Then he said, “I am going to assume that was not an unnecessary risk.”

  “It wasn’t,” I said, and explained what had happened. “I feel so stupid about letting that soldier creep up behind me,” I said. “I guess I was so intent on the God-Empress I wasn’t paying enough attention. At least it wasn’t a pouvra that betrayed me. I’m sorry I made you worry. It must have seemed to you as if I really had vanished.”

  “It did,” he said. “We were halfway out of the manor when I realized you were not with us, concealed or otherwise. General Tarallan had to force me to stay with our people and not go running after you where I would certainly have been killed. He is extremely sensible.”

  “He is,” I agreed. “Tell me what happened.”

  (I was going to write this all as a conversation, but the truth is I was still fuddled and I only remember bits of Cederic’s exact words. Then I talked to Sovrin later and she told me more. So this next part is me combining the different stories so they make sense.)

  Once the fighting started, everything was total confusion. There were at least four different sides (“our” group, most of General Regates’ soldiers, the King’s guards, and my mages) and even though my mages didn’t do much, that was still a messy conflict. Eventually, the King’s guard called for reinforcements, and our people had to retreat or be overrun. My mages stepped in at that point to help cover their retreat, though I think most of them still didn’t understand what was going on.

  I hope Jeddan’s okay. I hope the King doesn’t retaliate against them.

  Our people fought their way free of the manor grounds, then had to run for it on foot because they didn’t have time to spare to get the horses. Mattiak’s furious about that, because he’s had his horse for years and they’re like old friends, which is the only bad thing I have to say about Mattiak’s character, that and trying to part me from my husband, but he’s given up on that.

  They separated to return to their respective armies. Mattiak told Cederic he was stupid to go where he might be captured, but Cederic said he wasn’t going to leave his mages to be hostages for the God-Empress, especially since she might decide to take out her wrath on the Darssan mages as proxies for Cederic.

  So Mattiak gave the command for the army to break camp and move out, even though it was almost ten o’clock at night, and Cederic and his mages went to the Castaviran army, which hadn’t yet gotten the word about Regates’ change of heart, rounded up the rest of the mages, told them to pack what they could carry, and brought all of them to the Balaenic camp just as it was beginning to move. They had to leave a lot behind, including the collennas, which I think Cederic regrets, but better that than being dead.

  I’d stumbled into camp twenty minutes before, but no one thought to inform Cederic of this because they were all busy saving my life, and at this point in the story I had to stop him and make him lift me so we could hold each other, because the look in his eyes as he described how it had felt to ride away from Venetry, thinking he’d left me behind, made me cry. But that was nearly the end of the story. The surgeon stitched me up, but I was restlessly unconscious for most of three days, waking long enough to drink some water now and then but otherwise looking as if I might not survive.

  The army traveled eastward that whole time, getting as far from Venetry as it could, but with no other plan in mind. Now we’re headed to Colosse, but not for long; it’s not a terribly defensible city, no walls or anything, and we need more troops. So we’re moving to Barrekel from there, where we hope to convince the Lord Governor of the rightness of our cause. From there…I don’t know. There’s going to be another meeting tonight when we camp, and I’m finally well enough I can attend. I can’t believe I’m looking forward to a meeting, of all things, but I’m so glad to be out of this bed anything seems exciting.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  3 Hantar, late

  I wish there were more pages left in this book. There’s so much I want to write, so many things I need to work out that I can’t talk to anyone about, not even Cederic. And I’m not well enough for lovemaking, which is awful because I think we could both use the comfort that comes with that kind of intimacy. In a few days, I hope things will look better, but right now the future is too difficult for me to contemplate.

  Cederic carried me to the meeting d
espite my protests that I was well enough to walk. Finally, he shushed me—I wonder if that will ever not work on me—and said, “My love, I sat beside you for three days during which I did not know if you would ever wake again. Let me indulge my need to keep you close,” and there wasn’t anything I could say to that.

  So he found me a chair someone padded with blankets, and sat next to me while we waited for Mattiak to arrive. There were a lot of people in the command tent, not only Mattiak’s general staff but Cederic’s trusted aides, including Sovrin and Audryn. Audryn’s still not doing well because no one knows what happened to Terrael, but we all know there’s a good chance the God-Empress had him killed. He’s close to Cederic, and even if he can’t work magic anymore he’s still a genius and might be able to thwart her plans. Not that anyone would say this out loud, and certainly not where Audryn could hear, but it’s left all of the Castaviran mages (and me, of course) feeling very low.

  Mattiak came in a few minutes after everyone was there. The tent was uncomfortably warm with all those people bundled together and me near the center, enough that the cold air that blew in with Mattiak felt good against my face.

  Mattiak looked grim. He stood where everyone could see him and said, “About the only good thing I can tell you all is we moved quickly enough to put ourselves beyond the reach of the Castaviran Army. Our scouts report they have not moved from their position surrounding Venetry other than to combine their two camps. It seems those in the army in opposition to the former Empress were not able to overcome her supporters, if in fact they tried.”

  “Renatha Torenz is held in reverence by many people, even those who were part of our opposition forces,” Cederic said. “They followed our banner primarily out of loyalty to their officers. If those officers chose to follow General Regates’ example, their men and women would do the same. Even so, there are enough officers whose loyalty will not revert that I predict the Castaviran Army will be torn by factionalism and internal strife, which is no doubt the reason they have remained near Venetry. Their conflict can only benefit us.” He didn’t point out the obvious, which was that anyone who remained loyal to us would no doubt be killed.

  Mattiak nodded agreement. “Our supply train has been cut off, so the first thing we need to do is find a place to wait the winter out, somewhere southerly. They won’t field an army while the snow flies.” He pointed to a map of Balaen that had had Castaviran cities added to it. “Lirilla is far south, and it’s a port city with a strong economy. They should be able to support us for the winter. It’s nearly four weeks away, so we’ll need to stop somewhere to resupply, probably Barrekel—”

  “I agree with your assessment, General Tarallan,” Cederic said. “But we have more urgent matters than supporting the army, which is still, for the moment, well supplied.”

  “What matters are those, Aleynten?” Mattiak said. He didn’t look upset about being contradicted. In fact, he wasn’t displaying any emotion at all, and that surprised me, because Mattiak’s a very open person.

  Cederic stood and went to the map, and flicked his finger at Colosse, lying nearly at the center of the map. “Colosse is not a defensible city,” he said, “and occupying it would be disastrous for us. But it is the heart of the Castaviran Empire and carries much symbolic weight. We must go there first so I can anoint a new Emperor, or Empress, in whose name we can raise the country. The Castaviran people have suffered under Renatha Torenz’s reign and will be, for the most part, happy to see it ended. But they are more likely to oppose her if they have a new ruler to give their allegiance to.”

  “How does that affect Balaen?” Kalanik said. “Are we going to ask Balaenics to support a foreign ruler over their own King? Granted that nobody really respects him, but if you ask them to accept a new ruler, they’d want it to be a Balaenic.”

  “I haven’t lost sight of that, Wyoth, but Aleynten has a point. Who will you choose as Emperor?” Mattiak said.

  Cederic sighed. “Dugan Lerongis is currently King of Helviran, which gives him as good a claim to the throne as anyone,” he said. “Helviran has been part of the Castaviran Empire for centuries, which would make him acceptable to everyone. But Lelaena Osther of Endellavir is a stronger personality and would, I think, make a better Empress if it were not for her nationality. Endellavir has maintained its cultural traditions to the point that many feel it is not sufficiently Castaviran.

  “Sai Veneta Amaleten has been head of the Firtha thanest for decades; she would have been most high priestess had Renatha Torenz not warped the priesthood to her own ends. Her ecclesiastical rank makes her a natural candidate to transition the Empire from the rule of a woman who claimed a divine mandate, but Sai Amaleten has a tendency to privilege the needs of mages over those of the secular community.

  “And Moerton Taissatus, as consul of Colosse, has shown great leadership skills in serving as chief consul of the Castaviran Empire. My concern, however, is that he is perhaps not ruthless enough to provide the leadership we will need in the coming years, and I fear he would not be even-handed in his treatment of Balaenic citizens. But we have several days still until we reach Colosse, time enough for me to consider the candidates and make a decision.”

  “That sounds like a good solution,” Mattiak said. “But I have a better one.”

  Cederic raised his eyebrow at Mattiak. “You do?” he said. “I was not aware you knew anything of Castaviran politics.”

  Mattiak ignored the humorous jab. “I don’t,” he said. “But I think we have a better candidate much closer to hand.”

  Cederic’s brow furrowed. Then his impassivity cracked. “That’s impossible,” he said, sounding appalled.

  “As I said, I don’t know much about Castaviran politics,” Mattiak said. He was as expressionless as Cederic was not. “But I know there’s no precedent for choosing an Emperor outside the Torenz line. Nothing says he has to be of noble rank. What he does have to be is someone the Castavirans respect utterly. Someone who has demonstrated the ability to lead. Someone who has committed himself entirely to defending the Empire.”

  He flicked a glance at me. “And, if he wants to rule both countries, someone fair-minded enough to treat Balaenic and Castaviran citizens equally before the law...and someone who has a Balaenic wife.”

  That was when I realized what Mattiak was getting at. “What?” I shouted, incautiously standing up from my chair and then having to drop rapidly back into it as pain stabbed through my side. “Mattiak, are you out of your mind?”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “I say Cederic Aleynten is the best choice to rule a unified Balaen and Castavir.”

  The tent erupted into noise, men and women talking loudly over each other, some of them addressing Cederic, others shouting at Mattiak. I grabbed Cederic’s hand and made him sit down and look at me, bringing him out of the stunned reverie Mattiak’s words had sent him into. “It’s impossible,” I said, echoing his earlier words. “You can’t be Emperor. I can’t be Empress, or whatever it is you call the Emperor’s wife. I’m a thief! You’re a scholar! The whole point of this was to turn power over to someone else!”

  He looked impassive again, but his eyes were wide and still stunned. “He’s right,” he said. “There isn’t anyone else. God help me, there isn’t anyone else.”

  “You just listed four other people who could rule!” I said.

  “None of whom will ever be entirely acceptable to the other three,” he said. “I—” His grip on my hand tightened. “I never even considered this possibility. I saw myself as bringing order to two countries and never thought what it implied that I had the will and the ability to do so.”

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said.

  “I think it is possible I do,” he told me. He laid his hand gently along my cheek. “I have spent my life in the service of Castavir,” he said. “And I think—God help me, Sesskia—I think that life has been leading me here all along. Am I too arrogant, to think myself the best choice to rule both our cou
ntries?”

  He sounded calm now, but his hand was trembling, and I put my other hand over our joined ones. “Not arrogant,” I said. “Never that. But it isn’t what either of us wanted.”

  “I know,” he said. “You married an academic, not an Emperor, and I…will understand if it changes how you feel about being my wife. I should…offer to release you from your wedding promise.”

  That made me feel sick as well as horrified. “I would want to be your wife if you were nothing but an out-of-work collenna master,” I said. “How fickle do you think I am?”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and put his arms around me; reflexively I hugged him back, ignoring the pain. “I cannot bear this alone,” he said. “If you tell me this is impossible for you, I will decline the honor, and we will find another way.”

  “Don’t you dare put this burden on me,” I whispered into his ear. “I’m not making that decision for you. If this is what you think will save both our countries, then we’ll face it together. I am your foundation, and you are mine. Don’t you forget that.”

  He nodded, and released me, smiling sadly. Then he stood, and took a few steps to stand at the front of the crowd, which went silent immediately. “This is not the future I planned for myself,” he said, “but it is the only future that makes sense. With your consent, I will accept the throne of a combined Balaen and Castavir, and we will bring our two countries to a peaceful union.”

  The shouting began again, but it was cheering, and approval, and a lot of unregal saluting. I’m still not sure whether everyone is supposed to address Cederic as Emperor when he hasn’t been crowned, or even if they have to do it at all—it seems like