by R. K. Thorne
Devol spread his arms wide. “Indeed. Mastikos knows, it’s been too long.”
“The king tells us you were kidnapped,” Dyon said. “Is it true? By agents of Kavanar?”
Miara had come to stand by Aven’s side, just behind him, and she shifted uneasily.
“His Majesty didn’t see fit to tell us until just now that you’re safely returned,” Warden Asten added. Her icy blue eyes cast a sidelong glance at the king. She had cropped her blond hair even shorter since last he’d seen her. How long had it been, three months, five? She did not often travel this far west these days. “Welcome back, though. Well met.”
Murmurs of agreement followed her words. Aven gave her the same brotherly nod he’d given her a hundred times before when she’d bested him at bowstaff. The two of them had trained together since they were children, until she’d moved up in the ranks to her current position.
Aven cleared his throat. “It’s true, but I would not have us ride to war just yet.”
“Why not?” demanded Asten.
“Let me explain. I was kidnapped. And I was also rescued—”
“Hardly. You got free of them on your own,” Miara cut in.
“I could not have escaped alone. But no matter. I was held prisoner in a Kavanarian hold for two days. And I discovered a few things about our enemies you will all find interesting.”
For a moment he wasn’t even sure any of them had heard him. Their eyes had all shifted to Miara, Lord Beneral’s gaze especially icy.
“Who’s that?” Devol grunted. Aven smothered a laugh.
“My lords, ladies, and wardens, this is Miara Floren, mage of Kavanar. She was instrumental in my rescue.”
“Your escape,” she said.
“Fine, my escape. Miara, may I introduce you to most of the fine members of the Akarian Assembly. This is Warden Tana Asten, Lady and Assemblywoman from Shansaren Territory. Wardens are Akaria’s elite warriors, and Asten is one of our best.” Asten bowed, and Miara returned the gesture. The military elite of Shansaren had chosen Asten to represent them for a lengthy seven-year term.
He didn’t know how Asten managed to seem friendly and deathly serious at the same time; he knew no one else with such an air. She had always been that way, even as a young girl. Of course, she had already been an accomplished swordswoman by the time Aven had met her. Aven, on the other hand, had simply been thrust among the warden aspirants and told to shape up. His peers had choices: be good at a sword or do something else. As crown prince, he did not. With peers like her and a competitive streak, he’d mostly held his own.
Aven turned to Dyon to continue his introductions. “This is Lord Jax Dyon, Assemblyman of Liren and trusted steward of military organization and logistics. And Lord Ven Beneral, Assemblyman of Numaren in the south, talented merchant and steward of the White City.” The White City was another name for Panar. Beneral worked hard to keep his lovely towered city deserving of its reputation of beauty and plentiful free trade, so Aven tried to use the name as often as possible.
Bows were exchanged. Was she absorbing it all? How could anyone? He would go over it with her later.
“And this is Lady Vitig Toyl, Assemblywoman of Dramsren and expert trader.” Toyl was the one that Aven knew least. Like Alikar, she was just starting a shorter, four-year term. But she came across as far more practical and quite a bit wiser than Alikar, as well as two decades his senior. The lady bowed, her pale cloak of fine Dramsren wool contrasting with long brown hair that fell past her shoulders.
Aven pointed out several officers, nobles, and arms masters, more for the sake of acknowledging them than hoping Miara would remember them. “And this is Master of Arms Devol,” Aven added at last. Dev mumbled a nicety as he bowed and seemed pleased when she bowed in return. As master of arms, he was not exactly a noble according to some people’s estimation, but then again, neither was she.
“We are grateful for the part you played in Prince Aven’s return, Miara,” King Samul said as Aven finished the introductions. “You are welcome to stay in Akaria as one of our own for as long as you wish.”
“Thank you, my lord,” Miara said with yet another bow.
“May we all strive to such valiant deeds,” Warden Asten said. Asten didn’t mean it sarcastically, but Miara frowned ever so slightly. Hopefully he was the only one who’d noticed. “But this attack on Prince Aven is the real outrage. We must determine a swift, brutal response. And we should not be discussing that in front of anyone recently arrived from Kavanar.” She glanced at Aven. “Except you, of course, my lord.”
“Understandable.” Miara gave a quick bow. “I will take my leave—”
“Wait.” The king held up his palm.
Aven jumped in at the opportunity. “Miara was a slave in Kavanar. She feels far more ill will toward them than loyalty, I assure you.”
“Still,” Devol started, “do we really need word of this getting back to greedy Kavanarian—”
“I would like to ask her a few questions before she leaves us,” Samul said over the starts of other objections. “The mage is aware of the details of Aven’s journey, so we can discuss that without concern. Son, please illuminate us on these recent events.”
As briefly as he could, Aven described for them the slaves inside Mage Hall, the Masters, the knots, the brand, and all he’d seen in Mage Hall.
“How the hell did we not know of this before?” Lord Dyon’s hand had wandered to his sword pommel.
“At the very least, this reveals critical weaknesses in our information-gathering efforts,” said Lady Toyl.
“Agreed. We do have spies in Kavanar,” the king replied. “But they are carefully placed to alert us specifically to troop movements and military expansion. The few in the royal court rarely learn much and report on the courting of women and the imbibing of wine and not much else. Those seemed sufficient things to monitor, but clearly we missed this.”
“I had heard rumors,” said Lord Beneral, “but I never thought they could be true. And even if the rumors were true, no risk to Akaria had occurred to me.” Numaren’s borders met Kavanar in the southernmost part of Akaria, along the sea, so Beneral had more opportunity to hear such rumors—and more reason to be concerned. Beyond Alikar’s territory of Gilaren, only the Lanuken’s own Elaren Territory shared a border with Kavanar, and the mountains were far too dense for even difficult passage. None traveled there by choice, and Estun was as deep into the mountains as most were willing to go.
“Slavery. Those depraved bastards,” Warden Asten said. “I wish it surprised me, but their avarice knows no bounds. Gluttonous, corrupt scum, the whole lot of them.”
“I am determined to end the practice,” Aven said quickly before Asten could further berate their enemies—but also Miara. “We must free these enslaved mages. And I’d like to end those responsible for such evil in the first place while we’re at it.”
“Then we will respond to this insult with overwhelming force and crush them without hesitation,” Lord Dyon said. “And yet… you would not have us ride to war just yet. Why delay?”
“Indeed, I believe Devol is drooling at the smell of blood,” Asten said, smiling slightly.
Aven paused for a second, hoping he’d get this right. “Those enslaved mages aren’t servants,” he said. “They’re being trained for war. Kavanar is building an army of mages. Have any of you fought against such a force?”
“So these Masters call them evil to enslave them and then exploit their magic for war?” Beneral said, shaking his head in disgust. “Hypocrites.”
“We have martial superiority—” Dev started.
“How many mages are in our army, Master Devol?” Aven asked.
“Who says we need ’em?” Devol folded his arms across his chest.
“Our siege equipment can be bolstered relatively easily—” the artillery master piped up.
“Our archers—” started another.
“Miara,” Aven said over them, loudly but conversationally, “
can mages defend against archers, catapults, infantry?”
“My lord, air mages can fend off archers in a variety of ways,” she said as if reporting back reconnaissance. Yes, dispassionate and factual was good. The “my lord” made him wince a little, though. “Wind blows arrows astray. Fire can incinerate arrows, but it can also be used as an obstacle to push archers back and out of range, although that’s not a recommended approach. Energy costly and inefficient, I understand.” Asten’s eyebrows rose as she spoke, although Toyl and Dyon frowned, more skeptical. Was it Aven’s imagination, or was the blood draining from Devol’s face? Miara continued on, oblivious to their reactions. “The efficient, recommended technique in the books is smoke or fog to obscure the enemy’s view of their targets. And there’s always a combination of these, not to mention that an air mage’s offensive abilities would cause significantly more trouble than these defensive ones. You can’t shoot arrows when you’re on fire, in the path of a tornado, and the like.”
At this, Devol’s mouth dropped open, which brought a smile to Asten’s face, but only for a moment. They all sobered as Miara continued.
“Catapults would be more challenging, but if stone is the projectile, a group of earth mages can attempt to take control of the projectile or redirect it. The battle abilities of earth mages are fewer than the other types, but many would likely be available. Aside from earthquakes, they don’t have as many practical uses as air or creature mages do.”
“Earthquakes?” Toyl blurted, finally showing a bit of concern.
Miara continued, her eyes still trained only on Aven. “As for infantry, well, there are options. A creature mage can cause a number of ailments that would delay or incapacitate troops. They could transform the enemy into whatever they wished, although again, that is expensive and inefficient. Greater damage can be done by transforming oneself or by coaxing local animals to attack, such as wolves, bears, panthers. Even something as small as a raccoon could be used to spoil or poison supplies—” At this moment, Miara happened to glance away from Aven’s face at the group and faltered. Their faces wore a mixture of horror, shock, and discomfort. She blushed. “Perhaps this is too much detail. Suffice to say a mage in war is very destructive, depending on type, ability, size of the force, and training.”
Samul cleared his throat. “And let me remind you… Kavanar is building an army of them.” He paused to let that sink in.
“And we know basically nothing about what it can do,” Aven continued, “nor how to defend against it. What Miara has just told us is a hundred times more than we all knew ten minutes ago. We’ve let overconfidence and piety blind us. We have to develop some way to defend ourselves.” Aven tried to keep from scowling, but he was pretty sure he was failing.
“You mean—use magic ourselves? I am not sure I’m comfortable with such tactics,” started Lady Toyl.
“Get comfortable with it,” Samul boomed. “Whether you would condone the use of magic or not is irrelevant when it is being used against us.”
He paused, glaring around from face to face. Aven knew this move well—each moment he stared at them, he pushed them back from a challenge. It was not Aven’s place to act like that most of the time—at least not yet. But he watched the reactions carefully for who was a problem waiting to explode. Dyon and Beneral were nodding as Dev continued to stroke his beard. Asten didn’t meet the king’s stare. Toyl scowled back at him, unafraid.
“If it is being used against us,” Samul continued, “it is our responsibility as protectors of this land to defend the people from it. That means understanding it at least well enough to defend ourselves and acting accordingly. Whether we use magic against them may be something we wish to deliberate at length about. We will not decide that here, tonight. But whether or not we understand what magic they can use against us and how to stop them is not up for discussion.”
The silence after his words was tenser than Aven had expected. His father put up a rational argument. It only made sense to understand your enemy. None of them had seen what Aven had, though. They had to take him at his word, and that might make this news harder to believe. How could he prove the danger to them?
Samul looked to Miara. “What more can you tell us of Kavanar’s abilities?”
“You said something about… earthquakes?” Devol said. “In this damned cave, that’s a frightening thing if I ever heard one.”
Miara regarded the Master of Arms as if he were declaring the sky blue. “If it’s frightening, it only proves Aven’s point. Your Great Stone is most prudent, but this is exactly why you should have your own earth mages for defense and watching for attacks.”
“Why do you mention the Stone?” asked Toyl. Of course, Aven’s parents knew of the Stone’s ability to suppress magic, but most did not understand it had any purpose beyond decoration.
Miara stared in surprise for a moment before answering. “Your Great Stone is a magic-suppression tool. It makes working spells more difficult, if not impossible, and thus protects the hold somewhat from magical attacks. The closer you get to it, the stronger the effect. It has a limited range and doesn’t reach far outside Estun itself, however.”
Murmurs flitted through the crowd.
“How does it work? And where did such a thing come from?” Asten asked.
“And was it here since it was built? Who would have—” started Toyl.
“Where did they find such a thing?” said Beneral.
Samul raised a hand to quiet them. “Please, let’s focus on the matter at hand.”
“Well, at least the Great Stone will prevent these Kavanarian mages from cooking up an earthquake and killing us all in one fell swoop,” Dyon grumbled.
“Not exactly, my lord,” Miara said gently. “Enough mages working together could overcome the Stone’s power. They probably haven’t tried before because transporting enough mages here would not be easy or stealthy.”
Dyon scowled. “It just gets better and better, doesn’t it? How many would they need?”
“Well, they don’t know how large this fortress is or how far underground it burrows. They would need perhaps twenty earth mages for a large dwelling if they can be incapacitated after the spell. Forty, if they need to be able to run. But not knowing the size of the fortress would make the number required to level the entire place impossible to estimate, although with time one or two scouts nearby could figure it out. Also, most earth mages have never worked in unison before, so ideally sixty or more would be better. Not a small number of mages to move without anyone noticing, let alone through a mountain range. But I would point out that this task will grow infinitely easier in the chaos of war. There could be other reasons they have not yet tried to attack this place too. Perhaps you have something the Masters or the Kavanarian monarchy wants?”
“These Masters, how much power do they hold?” asked Warden Asten.
“They are the nobles who rule over the enslaved. And the craftsmen of these fine scars that I’ve acquired,” Aven said, indicating his shoulder with a sarcastic grin. To her credit, Asten didn’t gape, but Devol did.
“How do we know we can trust this information?” Dyon said.
Miara scowled but said nothing.
“We have our own Akarian mages,” said the queen. “I sent for Elder Wunik when we sent for all of you. He is due to arrive here shortly. Unfortunately, two of our other mage elders could not be reached. Riders should return tomorrow from checking on them.”
“How many mages?” Samul said brusquely. His father looked older than Aven remembered. It had only been a few days.
“My lord, my tasks as a spy revolved around eavesdropping and theft. These battle tactics are taught to us from books. Best practices for if we need them later. I did not train with the warriors myself, so I can’t report on exact numbers. With a trained air mage’s help, we may be able to get a better count. I can say that Mage Hall houses hundreds of mages. Perhaps five hundred would be forced into battle? All are bound to act however the Masters will
them to, without question.”
Another murmur swept through the group, one Aven did not understand.
“And these Masters answer to the king of Kavanar?” his father asked.
She thought for a moment. “They didn’t seem to answer to him very well, honestly. They do, but I am not sure how loyal they are. They may have more power than him in many ways.”
Samul frowned, thinking that over. “Perhaps this is why our courtly spies had nothing to report. The impetus comes from elsewhere.”
Daes. The Dark Master, of course.
Before Aven could decide if he should mention the man or not, Miara continued, “There are warrior mages, more every day. But I was not allowed to be one. Had too much zest for battle, I was told.”
“Too much zest? Isn’t that exactly why you should become one?” Devol grumbled.
“Anything that comes naturally to me I have been told is quite evil, Master Devol. I’ve chosen not to believe that, but your opinion is up to you, of course.” That earned more than a few grins, including Dyon’s. Beneral’s expression was thoughtful.
“Then you were just a spy?”
“Just?” Miara raised an elegant eyebrow, and Devol blustered an apology. “I’m sorry I don’t know more. Most of the time, I was—am—a healer.”
“Also an important wartime skill,” Aven added. Miara looked like she wanted to point out she’d mostly been charged with healing horses, so he jumped in before she could undercut her expertise again. “And that is exactly why our first response must be to free more mages before we ride to war,” Aven said.
Nearly everyone, including Miara, looked at him in surprise.
“Starting with warrior mages,” he said. “We will bring them here, and they will tell us of their training and capabilities. Together, we’ll figure out what the Masters are planning.” Miara’s half smile and the glint of amusement in her eyes were more than enough reward for the idea, even if the rest of them didn’t go for it.
“I believe—as we’ve discussed—we should discuss our plans for response without any foreigners or spies present,” said Dyon. “That is, of course, if your questions are answered, my lord.” Samul nodded.