The Mongrel Mage

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  “He said you could sense the Gallosians almost a kay away.”

  “That was because there weren’t any other people around. If there was a battle, I couldn’t tell who was who, just a lot of people. I don’t sense the people so much as the order and chaos they manifest.”

  “Can you recognize individuals that way?”

  “Only people I’ve met a few times and paid attention to.” Beltur wasn’t about to mention that he could pick out mages and healers from other people, even if he didn’t know them. That was volunteering too much and could easily lead where he really didn’t want to go, not after barely escaping Wyath and his supporters.

  In the end, Beltur spent almost a glass going over and back over what he could and could not do with his abilities before Gaermyn finally decided he’d learned all he could, or all that Beltur was able to tell him.

  Not long after that, just before fourth glass, when Beltur was thinking of leaving, he saw the captain striding toward him.

  “Just a moment, Beltur.”

  “Yes, ser?”

  “After what occurred today, you need to be with the company all the time from now on. You didn’t bring any gear today, did you?”

  “No, ser.”

  “Then … be here early tomorrow with your gear. You and Undercaptain Zandyr will share quarters.”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “I know it’s eightday, but if the Gallosians want to surprise us, it will likely be on an eightday. There aren’t likely to be any days off from here on.”

  “Yes, ser.” Beltur wasn’t totally surprised, but he would have liked to have spent a few glasses with Jessyla on eightday. But there’s no reason why you couldn’t stop by her house on the way home. “Is it all right if I leave now, then, so that I can get ready to be here early tomorrow.”

  “Go ahead. You did a good job today. I want you to know that.”

  “Thank you, ser. I did the best I could. I still have things to learn.”

  “We all do. The officers who keep learning are the ones who are most likely to survive and prosper.” Laugreth smiled. “You can go.”

  Beltur nodded politely, and then headed toward the south gate. From there, he made his way directly to Grenara’s house.

  Jessyla opened the door, smiling. “I knew it would be you.”

  “You did? How?”

  “I just did. You look handsome in that uniform.”

  “He does indeed,” added Margrena from behind her daughter. “Can you come in, Beltur?”

  “Just for a bit. I just got off duty and came here from there.”

  “I’m glad you did,” said Jessyla, stepping back and opening the door wider.

  Margrena looked at Beltur, almost puzzled. “You’re wearing what looks like an officer’s uniform.”

  “I am. I’m a mage undercaptain. All of the mages are officers. I’m about as junior as they come.”

  “Is that better or worse?” asked Jessyla.

  “Better. I’m afraid I’d make a terrible ranker. As a junior officer who doesn’t have to command anyone, I can’t make as many mistakes.”

  “You look a little worn, Beltur,” said Margrena. “Have you eaten?”

  “Not since breakfast.”

  “Just come into the kitchen. Grenara won’t mind.”

  “That’s because she’s not here,” added Jessyla.

  “I wouldn’t want to impose…”

  “Nonsense,” said Margrena. “We can get you a little something.”

  “If it wouldn’t be too much…”

  “Just go to the kitchen,” said Jessyla, closing the door.

  “There’s something I have to tell you,” Beltur began as he walked through the parlor toward the kitchen. “From now on, it looks like I’m going to be spending most, if not all, of my time with Second Recon. I’ve been ordered to report full-time tomorrow morning.”

  “Are the Gallosians that close?” asked Margrena.

  “I was riding a patrol with the captain and a squad today, and we ran across a company of Gallosians. They’d used a flatboat to cross to the east side of the river, and there were ten more flatboats on the west side where there were lots of tents. They were just short of the border with Spidlar. We also captured a spy. At least, the captain thought he was a spy.”

  “Did you?” asked Jessyla, motioning for him to sit down on the bench at one side of the kitchen table.

  “I’m afraid so. He tried to get away and broke his leg.”

  “How…”

  “It was my doing. I held him with a shield, and he fell off his horse and came down wrong on one leg. I did have them splint it, and I made sure there wasn’t any wound chaos.”

  “Was he armed?”

  “He had a sword hidden in his duffel.”

  “That sounds like a spy,” declared Jessyla.

  “Here you go,” said Margrena, setting a mug of cider before him, along with a small wedge of cheese and a chunk of bread.

  “Thank you.” Beltur took a swallow of the warmish cider. It still tasted good. “Are you two still healing for the Council?”

  “For the moment,” replied Margrena. “Once the fighting starts, though…”

  “How soon will that be?” asked Jessyla.

  “I don’t know. The captain thinks it will be any time.”

  “You will take care of yourself, won’t you?”

  Beltur could hear and sense the concern. “I’ll do my best.” He paused, then added, “That is … if you don’t overdo it on the healing.” He looked to Margrena. “Both of you.”

  Jessyla grinned, then said to Beltur, “Thank you.”

  Margrena merely shook her head.

  “What’s it like, being an officer?”

  “It’s not much different, in some ways, from being a City Patrol mage. It’s a matter of watching and using shields, and listening to someone who knows more than I do. And trying not to make mistakes. And coaxing a stubborn horse into doing what he’s supposed to…” In describing some of what he did, in between bites of cheese and bread, and swallows of cider, Beltur tried to keep what he said cheerful, worried as he was, after having seen so many Gallosians.

  When he finished, he smiled. “I suppose I should go. I’ve got to get my gear together, and tell Athaal and Meldryn.”

  “They don’t know?” asked Margrena.

  “I just found out this afternoon, and I came here first…” Beltur tried not to flush. “I didn’t know if you’d be here, but I wanted to tell you myself.”

  “I can see where—” began Margrena.

  “Mother,” said Jessyla firmly.

  Beltur eased to his feet. “Thank you both, again.”

  “We were glad to see you,” said Margrena.

  “Since you do have to go,” Jessyla took Beltur’s arm, “I’ll see you out.”

  They walked to the front door. Jessyla did not open it, but took Beltur’s hand. “Please, please, be careful.”

  “If you will.”

  They just stood there holding hands.

  “Food is getting expensive, isn’t it?” he finally asked.

  “It’s not…” Jessyla smiled. “There’s no point in trying to hide that from you … or anything. Yes, it is. We’ve worried.”

  “I thought so.” He fumbled in his wallet with his free hand, then slipped her three silvers. “It’s not much, but I’ll get fed. No one’s going out of their way to feed you and your mother, I think.”

  “You don’t have to…”

  “I want to. You and your mother saved my life. This is little enough compared to that, and it’s something I can do. It’s something I want to do.” His eyes caught hers, and neither one of them moved.

  Finally, Jessyla murmured, “I never thought…”

  “There’s lots we never thought,” he said gently. “I’d better go.” Before I do something very improper.

  “I know. I do know.”

  Beltur did blush, and saw that she had as well, but he stepped back, not wan
ting to, but knowing that some things couldn’t be rushed.

  LV

  On eightday morning, Beltur left Meldryn and Athaal’s house carrying a small duffel he had borrowed from Meldryn. In the duffel were spare smallclothes, his razor, a small towel and a blanket, both also borrowed, and his oldest trousers, along with some soap chips and a few other items. As he walked through the cool and gray early morning, along an almost deserted Bakers Lane, he realized that it was the last day of harvest and that tomorrow would be the first day of fall.

  In less than half a season, his entire life had changed. He’d gone from being a marginally competent white mage to a largely black mage with stronger, if limited, capabilities, from living in Fenard with his uncle to living in Elparta with men he hadn’t even known two seasons before, and from, in effect, serving the Prefect of Gallos to becoming a mage undercaptain opposing him. And those were just the largest changes.

  When he reached the warehouse barracks, well before sixth glass, he made his way to the small cubby that held the duty squad leader and a messenger.

  “Yes, ser?” asked Nobryn, a junior squad leader whose name Beltur struggled to recall.

  “The captain told me to report here permanently. I just thought I’d let you know.”

  “Yes, ser. Undercaptain Gaermyn told me to expect you, ser. He said you’re sharing quarters with Undercaptain Zandyr. Do you know where they are?”

  “I can find them, thank you.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Beltur only made one wrong turn in getting to his “quarters,” which consisted of two narrow pallet beds formed of planks and set in a space two and a half yards long, and perhaps two wide with crude plank walls on two sides, the rear being the original wall. There was no door, just a canvas drop cloth, rolled up and tied for the moment.

  Zandyr stood as Beltur entered, duffel in hand.

  “Good morning,” offered Beltur.

  Zandyr nodded. “The quarters aren’t much, except they’re dry, and we’re not sleeping in the mud.”

  “There’s something to be said for that.” Beltur slid his duffel under the bed. “Have you heard anything new since yesterday?”

  “The main Gallosian force is supposedly two days away. I’m not sure how accurate that is, but that’s what Senior Undercaptain Gaermyn said.”

  “He likely knows as much as anyone,” replied Beltur, adding quickly, “Did your brother get off all right?”

  “My brother?”

  “The one you said was going off to serve on one of your father’s ships.”

  “Oh, Alastyn. He left on fourday. He’ll be in Kleth by now.”

  “Where will his ship be going?”

  “Swartheld. That’s in Hamor.”

  Beltur ignored the condescension of the unnecessary explanation. “Will he get to Cigoerne? I understand that’s the city founded by the heirs to Cyador.”

  “It is? What do they trade?”

  “Except for shimmersilk, I don’t know.” Beltur wouldn’t even have known that, except for his occasional forays into the market squares in Fenard, trips that seemed so very long ago.

  “Couldn’t be that much. Father hasn’t mentioned Cigoerne.” Zandyr bent over and picked up his visor cap. He smoothed his not-quite-too-long blond hair and then carefully put on the cap. “We might as well go out while the rankers form up for muster.”

  Beltur nodded, then walked beside Zandyr in the direction of the wide warehouse doors that served Second Recon.

  Once more, after muster, the officers met around the circular table in Laugreth’s makeshift study. The captain cleared his throat, then began.

  “There haven’t been any more Gallosians coming down the river. There’s still a company of foot on the east side of the river. The scout we caught yesterday denies that he’s Gallosian. He’d do that either way. He hasn’t said very much. He admitted seeing the Gallosians, but he claims the reason he was on the side path was because he wanted to avoid them.”

  “Is it possible he’s not?” asked Zandyr.

  “About as possible as the river freezing over tonight. That’s not our problem. Today, I’ll be taking Beltur and Second Squad back toward the border to see what else we can find out.”

  “If we already have scouts…?”

  Beltur could see Zandyr’s confusion.

  “Because the scouts have trouble seeing what they can’t see,” replied Laugreth. “Undercaptain Beltur can use magery to find what’s hidden. The only problem is that there’s only one of him.”

  Zandyr seemed only slightly less confused.

  Laugreth gave a quick look to Gaermyn and continued. “Undercaptain Zandyr, you’ll be working with Undercaptain Gaermyn today. Are there any questions? Good. Dismissed.”

  Less than half a glass later, Beltur was riding to join Second Squad.

  Chaeryn, Second Squad leader, reported as Beltur reined up. “Second Squad ready, ser.”

  “Very good, Chaeryn.” Beltur smiled. “Did Vaertaag let you know what I can and can’t do?”

  “He told all of the other squad leaders what you’ve done so far, ser.”

  “I don’t know if we’ll be doing any of that today, have you and your men been briefed on what happens if I raise a concealment—that they’ll be in total darkness and that a concealment doesn’t hide sounds or smells?”

  “Yes, ser.”

  “Good. I just wanted to make sure.” Beltur paused, then asked, “Is there anything I should have heard, and didn’t?”

  Chaeryn offered a faint smile. “I wouldn’t know that, ser.”

  Beltur smiled back. “You can’t blame a very new officer for trying.”

  “How are you doing with Slowpoke, ser?”

  “He was a little stubborn the first day. Since then, he’s been fine. He just needed a little gentle convincing.” Beltur wasn’t about to say more. He’d just been fortunate that what he’d tried had worked. It just as easily might not have.

  Laugreth rode up, a good fifth of a glass later.

  Although it was well past the time Beltur had expected, he simply reported, “Second Squad ready, Captain.”

  “Thank you, Undercaptain, Squad Leader. Let’s head out.”

  Beltur got the impression that Laugreth was less than perfectly pleased, both from the not-quite-preoccupied tone of his voice and from a hint of chaos swirling around the captain.

  After they had ridden almost a kay, Laugreth turned in the saddle and asked in a quiet voice, “How are you getting along?”

  “With Recon Two, ser? You and Undercaptain Gaermyn, and the squad leaders would know better than I do. I’m just trying to do what you need and not make any terrible mistakes.”

  Laugreth laughed. “Your best characteristic is that you know you don’t know much about Recon Two or regular armsmen. It takes some junior undercaptains a while to learn that. Some never do.”

  Those words told Beltur why the captain had been preoccupied, and the way Laugreth had broached the subject also indicated that Laugreth wanted to let Beltur know without mentioning Zandyr’s name. “I’ve never had either the burden or privilege of position, ser, and I barely escaped the wrath of the Prefect. I try to be very aware of what I don’t know.” Beltur grinned. “That’s not too hard, because there’s a great deal I don’t know.”

  “You’ll learn.” Laugreth nodded.

  When they had ridden another two kays or so, the captain asked, “Can you tell if there are any Gallosians ahead of us?”

  Beltur concentrated. After a time, he said, “There are horses and men near the border, but it’s too far for me to tell where exactly they are.”

  Beltur judged that he’d ridden another half kay before he could get a much better sense of the armsmen. “I think there’s about a company right near the river, and most of them are very close together. There are also three men just about on the border, from what I can tell, on a hill just back from the river.”

  Laugreth smiled. “Those are our scouts. Are there any
others to the east of the Gallosians by the river?”

  “There aren’t any that I can sense, ser. But I wouldn’t know if they’re more than two kays away, maybe three. Should I be looking for anything besides men or horses?”

  “They’re likely only to bring across mounted or foot units.”

  What else could they bring? That was Beltur’s first thought, but he realized that there were supply wagons and, of course, the siege engines. “Because the road is too narrow, ser?”

  “Partly. Also it’s too hilly and steep in places for supply wagons, but especially for the wagons carrying parts of the siege engines. I don’t think they try to bring those across until they’ve crossed the border and have set up a post on the flatter ground closer to Elparta. That’s something the marshal will want to stop before they can bring in too many armsmen. But the Gallosian marshal will probably try to stage as many troopers as they can on their side of the border. Then they’ll quickly move one force to the east side and march down the east road here as quickly as possible while their main force advances on the west side. Their goal would be to take and hold the flatter land south of the piers on both sides of the river.”

  “If they don’t want us to know, they could do that well before dawn in the morning, couldn’t they?” asked Beltur.

  “That’s why we have scouts from Fifth Squad posted here all the time. If it looks like they’re starting to ferry lots of men or men and mounts, they’ll report, and the marshal will decide what forces to use against them. Even if they used ten flatboats, it would take more than a glass, possibly two, to get everyone across, and they’d still be bunched together on the road.”

  “But so would we, wouldn’t we?”

  “We don’t have to go anywhere. We just have to stop them, and that’s easier in rocky and hilly ground. On wide open ground, it’s the other way around.”

  After another kay of riding, as they came around a gentle curve, Beltur could see the stone cairns on the road marking the border, perhaps three hundred yards ahead. He could also sense someone approaching.

  “One of the scouts is headed this way, ser. Well, toward the road. That’s if those three are our scouts.”

  “How close is he?”

  “About a hundred yards ahead, coming down that slope on the west side of the road with the single small juniper by the clump of bushes.”