The Mongrel Mage

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “Yes, ser,” replied the undercaptains, close to simultaneously.

  When Laugreth motioned, Beltur followed.

  “Our scouts haven’t sighted Gallosians on this side of the border, but several herders have reported that they’ve seen horsemen they didn’t recognize over the last day or two. That suggests they’re sending spies across the border.”

  Spies? Beltur had to think about that for a moment. “They’re scouts if they’re in uniform and spies if they’re not? Why wouldn’t they be in uniform?”

  “Because, if they’re discovered in uniform, that’s an act of war, and the Council could order an attack on the Gallosians before they’re fully established without our being considered the ones who started the war. If they’re spies, that doesn’t constitute an act of war, but once war is declared or under way, spies on our lands can be killed immediately.”

  On the one hand, Beltur could see a certain logic in what the captain said, but on the other, it almost seemed like splitting hairs.

  “I’ll be bringing maps and taking notes. So if you notice anything of worth, please feel free to bring it to my attention. Now … go get saddled up. We’ll form up to the east of the barracks building, as you’ve been doing.”

  That was the first time Beltur had heard the warehouse referred to as the barracks building, although that was certainly what it had become. “Yes, ser.”

  Despite his efforts to saddle up quickly, prolonged by the fact that he almost forgot the blanket and ground cloth, he was among the last to join First Squad, although the captain wasn’t there yet. Part of that was the time it took him to clean out his water bottles and get them refilled. He did use a bit of order to make sure there wasn’t any chaos in the water.

  As soon as Beltur rode to the waiting squad and reined up, Vaertaag immediately reported, “First Squad present and ready, ser.”

  Beltur hesitated only a moment before saying, “Thank you, Squad Leader.”

  Moments later, Captain Laugreth reined up and Vaertaag glanced meaningfully at Beltur.

  “First Squad present and ready, Captain.” Beltur didn’t hesitate that long.

  “Very good, Undercaptain.”

  While Beltur was thankful he had arrived just before the captain, that might have been because Laugreth had delayed his arrival so that he wouldn’t seem to be waiting on a junior undercaptain. Which is most likely.

  Laugreth looked to Vaertaag. “We’ll be taking the old east road south to the border. Have your men keep an eye out for anything unusual.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Laugreth turned his mount, motioning for Beltur to move up beside him. “First Squad, forward!”

  As they rode away from the barracks, Beltur noticed the end of what looked to be a rolled section of paper sticking out of a leather pouch fastened to a tie on the front of the captain’s saddle pommel and realized that it had to be a map.

  “If there are Gallosian armsmen and skirmishers out ahead of us,” said Laugreth, “they’ll either withdraw or immediately loose arrows in hopes of forcing us back or weakening us enough that they can attack successfully. Can you shield us quickly enough to prevent casualties?”

  “If I have a few moments’ warning and know from what direction the shafts are coming,” replied Beltur. “I can’t maintain a large shield all the time, though.”

  “That’s understandable. Most shield walls can only be held for a while.” The captain turned in the saddle. “Did you hear that, Vaertaag?”

  “Yes, ser. The undercaptain needs to know that shafts have been loosed and where they’re coming from.”

  The captain set a steady pace, not quite a fast walk, but definitely not a slow one, for the first glass, until the squad was probably within two kays of the border. At that point, he ordered out scouts to ride on the higher ground on each side of the road so that they could report on whether they saw any Gallosians or others on or near the river or the rolling ground to the east of the road.

  After the squad had covered another half kay, the scout on the river side called down from the rise where he rode, “Ser, it looks like there are flatboats ahead on the south side of the river.”

  “Beltur, ride up there with me.”

  While Beltur had no idea what he might be able to add, he immediately replied, “Yes, ser,” and followed the captain off the road and up the low rise to the top, little more than two or three yards above the road, but high enough to provide a clear view of the River Gallos. He reined up beside the captain and looked south where, close to a kay away, right about where Beltur thought the border might be, it was obvious that flatboats were pulled halfway onto the west shore.

  “I count ten flatboats there,” said Laugreth. “How many do you see?”

  Beltur counted twice before replying. “Ten, ser.” His eyes drifted back toward the east shore. After a moment, he frowned. He squinted, then concentrated, confirming with his senses what he’d seen—partly—with his eyes. He was about to speak when the captain did.

  “They could cross with anywhere from five hundred to a thousand armsmen. There are tents, it looks like, beyond the west bank of the river.”

  “There’s one other thing, ser,” ventured Beltur. “There’s a flatboat on this side of the river, maybe a hundred yards north of the ones on the west side. It’s almost hidden behind those rocks sticking up.”

  After several moments, the captain murmured, “I see it. Can you tell if there are any armsmen anywhere nearby?”

  Beltur tried to sense whether there were men near the half-concealed flatboat. “There are a few men with the boat. Three … maybe four. Not any more than that.”

  “That means the men they carried across have moved away from the river. They can’t have come north, or we would have seen them or their tracks. There’s no reason for them to head south. They likely moved east and then north, most likely along the border.” Laugreth turned to the scout. “Keep your eyes open for any sign of the Gallosians.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  The captain turned his mount toward the road and the waiting squad and headed down the rise. Beltur followed.

  Once they were back on the road, the captain called out to the scout riding along the road to the east, “Keep an eye out for Gallosians.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Beltur doubted that he’d ridden more than a hundred yards when he began to sense riders, although it was hard to determine too much. After another hundred yards, he finally said, “Captain … there are riders about half a kay to the southeast of us. They’re moving back toward the river.”

  “How many?”

  “That’s hard to tell. At least twice as many as we’ve got. Maybe more.”

  “Is there anyone closer? Outriders? Scouts?”

  “Not that I can tell.”

  “Are they on our side of the border?”

  “I can’t tell that. They’re close to the border, as well as I can sense.”

  “We’ll keep moving. Can you let me know if those riders move north?”

  “Yes, ser. They’re still moving west toward the river.”

  After riding about a fifth of a glass longer, at the top of a gentle rise in the road, Beltur could see the border cairns. Just beyond the cairns was a force of armsmen in dark gray uniforms. Beltur frowned. The gate guards in Fenard had worn black and black leathers, and Pacek and the armsmen that had accompanied Beltur and his uncle to Analeria had worn faded light gray. Had they just been wearing their uniforms so long that they’d faded from dark gray to light gray? Beltur almost shook his head and returned his attention to the Gallosians.

  One group was positioned on the road facing the border. The remainder seemed to be riding westward toward the river.

  “Squad! Halt!”

  For several moments, the captain said nothing. Finally, he spoke. “So far, it looks like they’re staying on their side of the border. Do you know anything different, Beltur?”

  “I can’t sense anyone nearby that’s acros
s the border. There’s another rider much farther east, but I can’t tell from here which side of the border he’s on.”

  “How much farther east?

  “About a kay. It could be a little less. There are a lot of trees there. It’s hard to tell.” Beltur paused. “There’s also what seems to be a path or a road heading east, and one heading north, maybe a little northeast.”

  “We’ll stay here and watch for a while. Keep track of that rider if you can.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “Squad! Stand down.”

  As Beltur and the squad watched the Gallosians, they moved back to the west and the riverbank, where they began to drag the flatboat upstream. For a moment, Beltur wondered why, but almost immediately recognized that was so that the Gallosians wouldn’t cross into Spidlarian territory on the return to the west side of the river.

  Almost a glass passed before the first contingent entered the flatboat and headed for the western bank of the river. During that time, Beltur continued to sense the presence of the single rider, who had not moved all that much.

  At that point, Laugreth turned to the squad leader. “Vaertaag, select four men to remain and watch the Gallosians. They’ll be relieved in three glasses. If there’s any movement across the border, one is to report immediately, the others to withdraw slowly and keep watching.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “There’s no point in the entire squad waiting and watching.”

  Less than a tenth of a glass later, the rest of the squad was riding back north along the narrow road. So, Beltur realized, was the rider he’d been sensing, and the rider was slowly getting closer to the squad, along the path that did not quite parallel the old east road on which the squad was riding.

  Beltur extended his senses again. Finally, he turned in the saddle. “Ser, that rider? He’s moving north and getting closer to us.”

  “You can tell that?”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “Maybe we should see if we can trap him. Let me know if he gets closer.”

  Beltur took that to mean when the rider was much closer, since he was still more than half a kay east of the squad.

  By the time half a glass had passed, the distance had closed considerably. “Ser, I think he must be on a path that’s nearing the road. He’s maybe only three hundred yards east of us, over that low ridge there.”

  “Vaertaag … send three men back and over the ridge. Make certain they’re quiet and that they get behind the rider. He might just be a weary traveler, but I have my doubts. Just have them keep well back of him for now.”

  “Yes, ser. Until we’re in a position to confront him?”

  Laugreth nodded. “If the path he’s on is the one I think it is, it will join the main road in less than a kay. We’ll pick up our pace just a little so that we arrive first.”

  While Beltur hadn’t even noticed where the path joined the road, before long it was clear that Laugreth had been right.

  As they neared the junction, the captain asked, “Can you conceal the squad while we wait for this traveler? It would make it easier.”

  “I can if you don’t mind being in the darkness for a while. Everyone will have to be quiet. The concealment won’t hide sounds or voices.”

  “Recon troopers are good at that. Where is he?”

  “Just about a hundred yards up and around a bend.”

  “We need to get into position.”

  “How close do you want him before I lift the concealment?”

  “As close as possible … or when he suspects something and tries to get away.”

  Beltur nodded.

  Laugreth set up the squad facing the path and spread so that the rider couldn’t spur his mount and ride around the Spidlarian force.

  Then Beltur raised the concealment.

  Almost a third of a glass passed before the single rider neared the hidden Spidlarian force. He was less than twenty yards away when he reined up.

  Beltur decided not to wait, and dropped the concealment. The slender man wore faded grays and a battered gray leather jacket.

  “Welcome to Gallos, stranger,” said Laugreth.

  The rider turned his mount and started back up the path, but when he saw the three troopers coming down, he turned toward the trees on the slope to the east.

  Not wanting the man to escape, Beltur threw a containment around the fleeing rider, but also recalling what had happened in Analeria when he’d used shields against a charging horse, Beltur kept the containment just around the upper part of the rider’s body. Even so, Beltur was almost yanked out of his saddle for a moment. When he regained his balance and seat, he was relieved to see that the rider was stretched on the ground. He was less relieved when he saw that one leg was at an angle that it should not have been.

  “How did you do that?” asked the captain.

  “I just used part of a shield. I couldn’t have held the shield long against a galloping horse. I didn’t do him any favors from the way his leg looks.”

  “It was likely easier on him than the troopers would have been,” replied Laugreth, urging his mount forward.

  By the time Beltur and Laugreth reached the fallen rider, Beltur saw that the three trailing rankers had captured the rider’s mount and were leading it back down the path. Beltur looked down at the figure in nondescript gray. “Can someone splint his leg?”

  “Tiegan can,” offered Vaertaag. “Is it worth it?”

  Beltur looked to Laugreth.

  “He’s likely a spy, and spies in wartime…”

  “Are we at war yet?” asked Beltur.

  “You’d better have Tiegan splint it,” said Laugreth before turning back to Beltur.

  Beltur dismounted, handing Slowpoke’s reins to a ranker who had eased his mount forward, and walked toward the suspected Gallosian. He let his senses run over the leg, then waited while Tiegan straightened and splinted the leg. When the ranker moved away, Beltur eased slight bits of order into the places where there was wound chaos. “Try not to move it much. I think it will heal.”

  “Does it matter?” The man’s voice was bitter.

  “It might,” said Beltur, stepping back and then remounting.

  Two rankers helped the captive back onto his mount, but not before removing a blade from the pack behind the saddle, and handing it to the captain.

  Laugreth looked over the weapon and then nodded to Beltur. “You might be right. They were careful.” He handed the blade to Vaertaag. “That’s a Suthyan bravo’s blade.” He looked at the captive. “We know better, but it’s best to stick to the letter of the military code, especially since we’re not at war. Yet.”

  Once the squad was headed back toward Elparta, Beltur glanced back. Two rankers rode beside the injured man, and one held the reins to his mount. “You think he’s a spy?”

  “Don’t you?”

  “It’s likely.”

  “If he hadn’t tried to run, he’d have ended up in the same place, but without a broken leg.” Laugreth paused, then asked, “Are you a healer, too?”

  “No, ser. I know a little about it. I don’t know how to splint a leg and set a bone the way Tiegan did. What I did might make healing easier.” Beltur wasn’t about to mention that he’d been reading about healing. Reading wasn’t the same as actually healing. “Why did he try to ride away from us?”

  “Because someone told him we’d kill him on sight. We wouldn’t have. Not without trying to find out what he knows.”

  “I doubt he knows much more than we do,” suggested Beltur.

  “You’re probably right. He was sent out to find out what he could.”

  “Just as we’ve sent out scouts?”

  “Of course. Ours have been more careful and discreet. So far, they’ve all returned. But then, they’ve had more training and experience. That’s one advantage we’ll have when the fighting really starts.”

  “If I might ask, where are we at a disadvantage?”

  “They have more troopers, and they have chaos-mag
es.”

  “What about siege engines?”

  “If it comes to that, we’ll likely be hard-pressed.”

  “Because for the Gallosians to use them, they’ll have to have surrounded the city?”

  “More or less.”

  That was what Beltur had already thought.

  Once they returned to the barracks, sometime after second glass, the captive and presumptive scout was escorted to see Majer Jenklaar, the battalion commander, and Beltur groomed and stabled Slowpoke. As he finished, he turned to see one of the battalion ostlers standing outside the stall. “Yes?”

  “Have you had any trouble with him, ser?”

  “Outside of a little stubbornness the first day, no, I haven’t. Why?”

  “I just wondered, ser.”

  “Has he been a problem in the past?”

  “He hasn’t been that good in responding to the bridle, ser.”

  Beltur had the feeling there was more than that. “Is there anything more I should know?”

  “Oh, no, ser. Not so long as he does what you need.”

  Beltur couldn’t help but be curious, but saw no point in pressing the matter since the ostler wasn’t about to say much more, if anything, than he’d already said.

  He patted Slowpoke on the shoulder, saying, “I’ll see you later,” and then closed the stall door and headed for the barracks side of the company spaces.

  He wasn’t sure what he should be doing, or where he should go, but he figured that if he happened to be in plain sight, either the captain or Gaermyn would find him.

  In only moments, the senior undercaptain appeared. “Beltur, the captain said that you had captured a spy from more than thirty yards away with your magery.”

  “Shields, ser. I just put a shield around him so he couldn’t go anywhere. The rankers actually captured him and escorted him back. And it was only about twenty yards. I don’t know that I could have done it at thirty yards.”

  “That’s still a good piece of work.”

  “Thank you, ser.”

  “What else can you do?”

  “You and the captain have seen just about everything. Mostly, it’s just using shields in some way or another. A concealment’s really just a different kind of shield.”