Wild Sorceress

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Wild Sorceress Page 13

by Margaret L. Carter


  "Well, it worked for the general. Well, that and the wine. Besides, I told him he owed you one."

  "Owed me one?” Aetria asked with a puzzled frown.

  Sonja tossed her the spent bullet, which Aetria did an admirable job of snatching out of the air with her right hand.

  "Told him you took that bullet for him. He was impressed."

  Aetria put her left hand to her head and felt the lump. “So that's what hit me."

  "Would have killed you also, if you had not been wearing that helmet."

  Aetria looked at the bullet in her hand, noticing the hole drilled through it. “Why is there a hole in it?"

  Sonja wearily sat back down in her chair. “Serves two purposes. One, it stacks nicely on a rod, easily pulled off for rapid fire from the sling. Two, it whistles in flight and terrorizes the troops."

  "I didn't hear anything."

  "You wouldn't. You're the one that got hit. I heard it just before it hit you."

  Aetria's puzzled look increased. “Why would bandits use a weapon that is noisy?"

  "A bandit wouldn't, but a Hermanian Assassin trooper would."

  "Assassin trooper! Those weren't bandits then?"

  "No, they were dressed in disguise to keep their movement as inconspicuous as we were trying to be. It appears they were trying to take the general alive, but got scared off by your phantom cavalry squadron. Nice touch."

  "Thank you, but terribly expensive."

  "And revealing, I'll unhappily add, Sorceress. That display of magic clearly showed the presence of an adept class wizard—where one shouldn't be."

  "Adept class? I'd say Mage level, at least. It cost me every bit of Power, burned out my grid."

  "Grid burnout? I thought that was fatal?"

  Aetria walked over to her saddlebags stowed neatly in a cupboard. She pulled a leather thong from the bag and threaded the strand through the hole in the bullet, then tied it around her throat like a necklace. “It usually is for Aggressors."

  The image of Recanlin's shattered forehead entered her mind and brought the pain of his death washing over her again. She halted for a moment, swallowing hard to keep from crying out. Sergeant Borlock stood watching her, puzzlement in her eyes.

  "Someone you know died that way, Sorceress?"

  "One of my Novices, a month ago. He gave his life for us."

  "Sounds like an interesting tale. Happened a month ago? Wasn't much fighting going on a month ago."

  Moving away from the bed and towards a nearby chair, Aetria sat slowly down. “Commander Pleates and I were bringing in a recruit company of sorcerers from Inhestia. We came upon a similar company of Hermanian sorcerers. The commander decided to attack them and take their source. He wanted to try out his new weapon, so he ordered us into battle. I told him it was not safe. The Novice Aggressors were untried and not ready. He overruled me. During the attack, his new weapons exploded, killing four Novices.

  "I had a Novice Aggressor with me who was creating a diversion. When the Hermanian reserve rushed our position, he countered with a fireball, which he lost control of, and he suffered grid burnout. The backlash killed him, but he stopped the charge.” Aetria paused to wipe the tears from her eyes.

  Sonja had listened very attentively to her story. When Aetria stopped, the sergeant bluntly said, “According to Adept Pleates’ report, you were attacked by a superior sorcerer force. He said nothing about a new weapon."

  "He told me that was what he was going to report,” Aetria said, grimacing. “I told him I disagreed with his belief the attack was by veteran enemy sorcerers. They were a small company of Novices like us. He insisted, but said I could make my case in my own report. Which I did, and which he sent forward with his."

  "Sorry, Sorceress, but I do the general's paper shuffling, and there was only his and a bunch of Novices’ reports. He said he was misinformed by his guard lieutenant's inaccurate estimation of the Hermanians’ order of battle, but he took the blame because he was the commander in the field. What new weapon was he working on?"

  Aetria did not want to answer that question, but Sonja seemed adamant. Aetria opted for letting Crusher explain his own way out of that mess. She had already disobeyed him by mentioning the weapon to the sergeant at all. “I think you had better ask him that question, Sergeant. He did not allow anyone but the Aggressors to have any knowledge of what he was doing. I am sorry if I am less than helpful in answering your question."

  "The general may have some more questions of you after I brief him on this. For now, back to this ‘grid burnout.’ You said it is usually fatal to Aggressors."

  Warily, Aetria took up her explanation. She worried she might be saying too much about sorcerer operations to a non-sorcerer, but it was too late for that now. “For my specialty, illusion, it rarely happens. It isn't normal to expend that much energy for disguising magic. I..I have a slight problem of control.” Aetria stood looking down at the bullet, a rosy flush coloring her face and neck.

  "You've had this problem before, I take it.” Sonja was looking intently at her.

  "Once before. Five years ago, right after our order first joined the king's army. We were participating in the battle against Saphradea, who had taken the opportunistic chance to come in on the side of Hermania and were threatening our eastern flank. I was a Novice sorceress, tasked to cover a feint being made against the center of the Saphradean line by the 23rd Kelrossian Lancers—"

  The Sergeant slowly nodded her head. “So you were the one. I was there. As the Lancers started toward the line through an intervening section of trees, they suddenly took on the visage of a company of elephant-mounted Royal Guard. A novel idea of yours, by the way. We were experimenting with that very idea and had imported a dozen elephants. They were not fielded yet, so it came as quite a surprise to all of us, including the Saphradeans, who thought they had pretty good intelligence on us."

  Sheepishly, Aetria said, “They weren't supposed to appear to be mounted on elephants. I think that came about because I had been studying those huge beasts for weeks prior to the battle, hoping to use their image and movement to develop other monsters to terrorize the Hermanians with. In my enthusiasm to make the Lancers look like the Royal Guard, I added too much detail, and—"

  "Whatever you did, it worked. As ‘The Guard’ charged out of the wood on their raging elephants, the enemy's center broke before the charging Lancers, with their soldiers fleeing to either side of the charge. The line rolled up the flanks, and the real Guard suddenly found themselves attacking in the face of twice as many enemy, an enemy already panicked and desperate. An enemy who now found themselves caught between a rock and a hard place. The Guard in front of them was less terrifying than the one behind them, and the Saphradeans attacked.

  "The real Guard was rapidly being cut to pieces and we would have lost the day if it had not been for the Sub-commander of the Lancers. The Sub-commander saw the line had broken ahead of them, and led the Lancers straight into the Heir Apparent's entourage. The Lancers captured the Heir, and the Saphradean generals had to surrender."

  Sergeant Borlock's eyes were now locked onto Alenso's sleeping form in the bed beside Aetria. “The Sub-commander of the Lancers was promoted and made a rapid rise through the ranks."

  "You mean, my loss of control led to the general..."

  "Yes, ironic isn't it?"

  Sonja looked back at Aetria, her eyes narrowing slightly. “After the battle, our field commanders asked the commanding general about the ‘elephant’ charge. He said the Adept commander of the sorcerer regiment had decided to change the deception from what had been planned to what had been executed, and the Sorcerer Corps took the credit for your ‘accident.’ Since no one knew any better about your operations, we believed him. You people are too secretive about what you do! But enough on that, what happened to you?"

  "I was packed off to our training lodge at Inhestia to learn control. I was only recently allowed to join my regiment."

  "Well, your wild mag
ic has saved the general. But what is this cost you spoke of? Is this something the general needs to know?"

  "The Power I expended on the spell was all I had stored up. I am Powerless now. I can restore my Power, because my Adept gave me a source, but..."

  Sonja sat up straight and looked hard at Aetria. “But?"

  "It would take most of a day. I can't be moving around, and, well—"

  "First a but, now a well. Spit it out, Sorceress!"

  "Exposing myself to an uncovered Power source re-energizes me, but it also exposes the location of the source to any sorcerer in the area."

  "You mean every time you sorcerers restore your energy you are telling the enemy where you are? By the gods, doesn't your Order understand the military significance of that small piece of information? Couldn't they have at least shared that?"

  Chagrined, Aetria shrugged her shoulders. “We do, but the less you know of our weaknesses, the more secure we are. In six years of fighting this war by your side, we have learned much about the craft of fighting wars. We have never advised you falsely about what we can or cannot do."

  Sonja burst out with a sharp, short laugh. “That's true, because you don't tell us anything. Well, that certainly explains why you sorcerers insist on being so heavily protected all the time. At what range can your sources be detected?"

  Aetria found she had no desire or wish to keep information from Sergeant Borlock. She trusted the woman who was trying to keep the general and her alive.

  "Depends on the skill level of the sorcerer, but nominally a day's march."

  "So you can't restore your energy. That means we have now lost our sorceress."

  "I suppose I should tell you all the rest of the bad news."

  "There is more?” Clearly, Sonja was getting upset.

  "The spell I cast? Expenditure of that much Power can be detected."

  The sergeant let out a string of curse words that were certainly much cruder than Aetria could ever have hoped to duplicate. “In other words, you lit off a huge bonfire and every sorcerer in the country knows we're here."

  "Not quite that bad, Sergeant. Just those within about a day's march. Which I expect aren't that many."

  "We only need one Hermanian sorcerer to bring doom down on us, and you can believe that those Assassins were attached to one. Get dressed and pack up! We've been here far too long already. They could be on us any moment. Move it, woman."

  Aetria stood transfixed under the glare of the angry sergeant. Sonja was about to slap her to get her moving, when Aetria put up a warding hand.

  "If ‘they’ are traveling with a sorcerer, then ‘they’ are not anywhere near."

  "And how do you know this?"

  "I am not completely useless as you supposed! Just because I can't cast spells doesn't mean I can't do anything. Being Powerless, I am very sensitive to the presence of Power. Any Powered sorcerer is like an exposed Power source to me. I can sense them."

  "Another sorcerer secret exposed, Sorceress. Something else your Order has failed to tell the general and his staff!” Sonja muttered something about being kept in the dark, and sank down slowly into a chair.

  "A secret, yes, Sergeant, but not the Order's—mine. As far as I know, I am the only one who can do it. If the Order ever knew what I could do, I would be brought before the Council and banned from the Order forever! Please don't tell anyone, Sergeant."

  Sonja shook her head. “No, the general has to know, but nobody else. I promise. I think this skill of yours can work for us. How far can you sense another sorcerer?"

  "Maybe a half-day's march, less if I am tired or too distracted."

  "Sorry about the outburst. Please search again to the maximum range you can. I need to know how much time we have."

  Aetria lowered herself into a slight trance again and started another sensing search. “I feel a faint presence to the north."

  "That's in the direction we were originally headed. Our mission has been severely jeopardized! They obviously know our destination and are maneuvering to cut us off. They will probably send back the Assassins who attacked us with a lot more support troops this time. They will begin tracking us from where the skirmish took place. That will lead them here to this inn, south of the point of attack. The innkeeper will certainly remember seeing a soldier draped across her horse."

  A blush flushed over Aetria's face and she thought of how undignified she must have looked in that pose.

  Sonja continued to think aloud. “Now they know we have a sorceress. They think she is a very powerful one, but also know you're under-powered now. It follows that you won't use a source, or they would sense it. I just bet they will expect us to run for home since we have been discovered and our strength drained."

  "Then we go east toward our troops and give up this mission."

  "That's for the general to decide. Now go pack the horses. I'll wake and brief him on what has happened, and get an answer."

  * * * *

  Aetria sat slumped in her saddle, staring numbly at Sonja. It had been three days since she had awakened from the after-effects of the burnout, and she felt she had not slept since. The intervening time was one long, interminable horse ride interspersed with forced marches afoot, meals in the saddle, and infrequent periods of unconsciousness which she could not really call sleep. And always being driven ever onward by Sergeant Borlock. Aetria craved sleep. Fatigue had dulled her mind to the point where she basically fainted in place when given the chance. The constant drain of scanning for the essence of Power was tasking her the worst.

  "Anything, my wrung-out Sorceress?"

  Aetria blinked several times and refocused. “As I said earlier, nothing. I'm not sure I could read a sorcerer across the clearing from us right now."

  "It has been a half day since you last sensed anything, and we have been riding hard away from the source. Isn't it likely that we have outdistanced them?"

  "As much as I want to believe that, I can't trust my readings. I told you fatigue affects my ability to sense. But if we rest to improve my range, they may get too close before I can detect them. I counsel moving on."

  Sonja nodded in agreement. “Forgive my insistence, Aetria, but you were quite sure that your last sensing was to the south?"

  Aetria sighed, more from frustration with her own loss of confidence than with the sergeant's lack of faith. “I'm reasonably sure of the direction; it is the range I can't trust."

  Sonja let a small smile escape through the strain on her face. “Good. Then we may have escaped their noose. The general believed that by riding west until you lost contact with that northern group, which he believed was a picket or scouting force, then turning north until sensing them again, we would eventually scribe a circle around the patrol, putting them behind us."

  "Why wouldn't they continue to track north from their first location until they came within a safe distance from making contact with the king's troops, yet still be between us and the king?"

  "They would have, except the general's second ruse probably convinced them we were retreating back to the south. They had to search the area in between. When the northern patrol failed to detect you, the Hermanians would believe we were between their northern patrol and their intercepting force searching southward. The northern patrol would remain in place in case we evaded the main force, or until we had been located and attacked."

  Aetria rubbed her face hard, trying to stay awake and focus on Sergeant Borlock's words. “Just why is it so important to get the general to the king, if a lowly sorceress might know?"

  "No, you may not!"

  "And this second ruse?"

  "Can't tell you that right now."

  "Why do I feel like I am not a trusted asset to this party?"

  Sergeant Borlock took a moment to stretch her stiffening muscles, then turned toward the sorceress. “The less you know, the less you reveal if we get captured. The general and I will probably get killed in another attempt. He'll die because he is the reason for their searc
h. As for me, well, it is my job to protect him. You, on the other hand, can be easily overcome and made to talk."

  "What makes you think I can't defend myself? I am expert with a throwing knife and fairly capable with a sword!"

  "You are dead on your feet, Sorceress. And I have seen your prowess with the sword. Now let's get moving. My guess is we are only a day's march to safety."

  * * * *

  Sergeant Borlock stopped their march as darkness fell. She was tempted to push on and end their journey at the king's stronghold, but the prospect of another night's trek through the dark and cold was too uninviting. They were within the patrol area of the king's army, and Aetria still sensed nothing. Their refuge for this night was an inn nestled up against a windbreak of pine trees. The party tied up their horses at the hitching post, noting the absence of other mounts.

  Aetria scanned the clean-swept common room, as Sonja taught her. No other patrons occupied the scattered tables or the benches that ran around the edge of the room. An open window in the east wall overlooked the road. A maidservant tended the fireplace on the northern wall. The landlord scurried from the kitchen door in the west wall with an effusive welcome, shouting over his shoulder at his wife, whom Aetria glimpsed through the open door.

  Aetria dragged her aching body to a small table near the kitchen entrance and sat down. The general positioned himself beside her with his back to the kitchen, facing the center of the room. He ordered a round of drinks and the house's finest fare in a loud voice and grinned at his female escort.

  Aetria was spared conversation by the arrival of the serving girl, who slapped three tankards of ale down on the table and filled the remaining space with bread, cheese, butter, and empty bowls for a stew that the wife carried in. The general wrapped his huge hand around the handle of a tankard and downed its entire contents in one gulp. He banged it down on the table, the tankard's iron rim clashing on the hard wood, and roared for another. Aetria wearily pushed hers over to him and contented herself with a handful of bread.

 

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