Sar swiveled an ear in his direction. Elkan could almost hear the donkey’s voice in his head, making a barbed comment about Hanion’s deference to Elkan’s superior leadership skills.
He smiled at them, but held up a warning hand. “Let’s wait and see what he says when we talk to him.”
The ship nosed toward the dock. Sailors prepared to extend a plank across. Elkan’s mind was busy, trying to anticipate what he’d have to deal with at the Hall. Despite appearances, he doubted Hanion was completely resigned to the desperate plan Elkan had sketched in his note.
He was so distracted he didn’t hear the urgent summons from the watcher he’d put in charge of the Ramunnan prisoners until the man was nearly on top of them. “Master Elkan, please, you need to see this.” He tugged at Elkan’s sleeve, distress in his face.
Elkan’s heart sank, but he followed the watcher to the storage building near the bow. The smell of blood warned him what to expect, but it was still a shock when the watcher opened the door to reveal a scene of carnage. A dozen men sprawled on the floor, drenched in blood, their throats cut. The last man still had his hand on the dagger that had provided the means for their suicides.
“Why?” Elkan whispered, barely realizing he’d spoken aloud. What did they fear that was so terrible it drove them to do this? After we worked so hard to save at least a few from the death we brought their comrades?
Tobi pressed against his side, her voice for once sober. It was their free choice—
She broke off as a man huddled among the others, so still Elkan had taken him for one of the dead, raised his head. The eyes that met Elkan’s were so bleak he recoiled. “Their families are the Matriarch’s hostages. If she’d learned that they failed to carry out their final duty, she’d have considered them guilty of treason and executed the people they loved as punishment.”
Elkan reached for Tobi and had her send healing power over the man. He was unharmed save for hunger and stiff muscles and the lingering effects of nearly drowning. He couldn’t help but sweep the light over the rest of the prisoners as well, but only sensed what he knew he’d find. They’d been dead for hours.
He went to help the survivor up, seething with frustration. “We would have turned them over to your people. They didn’t have to—”
The man pulled away from his reaching hands and scrambled to his feet without help. “They heard you say that you know the Secret. That you plan to make your own weapons. The Matriarch would have been sure one of them had given it to you.”
Elkan frowned at him. “Won’t she still think that? How will she know they’re dead?”
The man waved a shaky hand at the bodies. “Leave them for the others to find. I’ll take care of the rest.” He drew himself up. “Don’t return me to the others. Brag to them that you’ve captured me. She can blame me for betraying the Secret.” He touched two fingers of his left hand to the back of his right wrist.
Elkan hated to believe anyone could be so ruthless as to slaughter innocent family members in retaliation for another’s crime. But he’d dealt with the Matriarch enough to know she’d do almost anything if she believed it was for the good of Ramunna. “What about your family?”
“I have only one living relative, and she’s in no danger.” The man squared his shoulders and met Elkan’s gaze arrogantly. “My name is Lieutenant Tenorran Fovarre. The Matriarch is my mother.”
* * *
The Mother’s Hall was deserted. Their footsteps echoed from the high ceiling as Elkan, Josiah, and the wizards from the other rearguard ships made their way across the dark, empty room. Elkan headed for the warm glow of lantern light coming from the Guildmaster’s office.
Hanion was seated behind the desk that had been Dabiel’s, Mavke in his lap, writing intently. He looked up from his work as Elkan entered. “Has anything changed?”
“No. We held the Armada off as long as we could, but they’re on their way now to occupy the city. Is the evacuation complete?” Elkan kept his gaze fixed on Hanion, but with his peripheral vision he saw that the hanging sculpture Dabiel had commissioned, that she’d hung from the ceiling to remind herself of the interconnected, uncontrollable nature of the Mother’s world, was gone. A rush of anger nearly choked him, but he shoved it down mercilessly to keep it out of his face and voice.
“For the most part. Some people insisted on remaining even after we warned them we couldn’t protect them. The watchers and volunteers who are staying were briefed and have scattered through the city according to your instructions. The rest are on their way to Korisan. Maps in all the guild headquarters, and as many others as we could locate, have been replaced. Poor Master Dorin nearly had a seizure when I told him what we needed, but he and his guild produced an amazing number of false maps that I can’t tell from the real ones. Everyone staying behind knows to search out and destroy any we missed.”
“Good.” Elkan nodded at the papers. “That’s the surrender document?”
“It’s almost finished.” Hanion dipped his pen in the inkwell and carefully inscribed a few more words. “Although I’m concerned it won’t accomplish what you want.”
Josiah made a sound of protest. Elkan felt much the same way, but he waved his apprentice to silence. He and Hanion might often disagree on matters of the Mother’s will, but the Guildmaster was intelligent, devoted to the Wizards’ Guild, and much more experienced than Elkan. He might well have seen something the rest of them had missed. “Why not?”
Hanion put down his pen. “As I understand your plan, you intend to turn over Elathir to the Ramunnans. The watchers and other volunteers who are staying behind will attempt to make it appear as if a substantial population remains in residence and prevent the Ramunnans from learning that actually most have fled. They’ll keep the Ramunnans busy subduing the city and mislead them about the number of Tevenarans who live elsewhere. Meanwhile you’ll gather and train an army in Korisan, complete with these weapons you hope to build. In a few months you’ll return and drive them out.”
“That’s right.”
“I think it can work, but not as you’ve outlined.” He waved at the paper in front of him. “They’re going to be suspicious if all the wizards flee. The best document in the world won’t convince them we’ve surrendered.”
Elkan clenched his fists. “You may be right, but I don’t see any other way to do it. They’re going to torture and kill any wizard they capture. I won’t ask anyone to take that risk.”
“You don’t have to ask. I’m offering.” Hanion settled his hand on Mavke’s head and met Elkan’s gaze steadily.
Elkan gaped at him. Before he could collect himself enough to speak, Hanion went on. “I can make them believe our surrender is genuine. I was ready to do so in truth; it will be easy for me to explain what we’ve done and why in terms they’ll accept. I’ll tell them I sent the rest of the wizards away for their own safety.” His voice took on greater urgency. “I swear before the Mother I can act the role well enough to fool them.”
Elkan swallowed. “I’m sure you can. But I don’t think it’s necc—”
“The people staying behind need someone to lead them. I’ve already told them what I plan, and warned them not to believe anything I say to the Ramunnans. I’ll be able to coordinate their activities. I can gather information and make regular reports of everything I learn. Someone can view them through a window from a safe distance. Once I convince the Ramunnans I’m honest in my desire to collaborate with them, I can feed them misinformation.”
Josiah murmured, “Master, he’s right. He’d be a huge help.”
Elkan could see that was true. He just didn’t want to admit it. He pointed to the bulldog, not trying to soften the brutality of his words. “They’ll separate you from Mavke. They’ll probably kill him.”
Hanion didn’t flinch. “That’s why you’ve got to take him with you.”
Shocked, Elkan blurted, “You can’t mean that. No wizard—”
“I do mean it!” Hanion rose, eyes
blazing. “I’d tell him to break our bond, except I’d be useless unconscious. But I won’t let him fall into their hands.”
Mavke whined and stared up at Hanion, clearly deeply distressed. Hanion stroked him, but didn’t drop his gaze. His voice returned to softly persuasive tones. “It will only be for a few months. Appearing helpless will be an advantage; they’ll discount me.” He scooped up Mavke and came around the desk. “I trust you to take care of him.” He thrust the bulldog into Elkan’s arms.
Elkan accepted the warm, heavy weight. “You agree to this, Mavke?”
Hanion flashed a lopsided smile. “He doesn’t like it, but I made him see why it’s got to be this way.” He gave the dog a final rough caress and turned toward the door. “Come. You need to get on the road to Korisan. I’m going to meet the Ramunnans at the dock.”
Elkan had no choice but to follow. He put Mavke down so he could rejoin his bondmate if he chose, but the dog stuck close to his feet.
Elkan could barely comprehend the courage and determination required for the course Hanion had chosen. He’d never be able to bear being apart from his familiar for even a few days, let alone months. They’d be much too far away for Mavke to hear Hanion or talk to him. Neither would even know if the other was killed. Bonds weren’t meant for such abuse. But Mavke had accepted the situation without breaking their bond, so it must be within the Mother’s will. He looked at Hanion’s straight back and decisive stride with new respect.
In the plaza outside the Hall they joined the cluster of watchers who’d accompanied them from the ships. Hanion halted, staring at the bound Tenorran in their midst. “What’s this? Why do you have a prisoner?”
Elkan ran a hand through his hair. He’d like nothing better than to rid himself of responsibility for the young Ramunnan, but he couldn’t see how. “We pulled him out of the water after we sank his ship. We left the others we rescued locked in a warehouse near the dock for the Ramunnans to find, but this one learned about Master Noadiah’s blasting powder and our plans to build our own version of the Armada’s secret weapon. It’s vital the Ramunnans don’t find out, so we’ve got to take him with us.”
He’d thought he was through with the arrogant, cruel, constantly scheming Matriarch. Leaving her behind had been one of the few good things about fleeing Ramunna with so much left undone. Now he was stuck with her son. Judging by his haughty bearing and the way he intently watched and listened to everything around him, he was going to be just as difficult to deal with as his mother.
Hanion studied Tenorran for another long moment, then shrugged. “Don’t let him make trouble.”
“I won’t.” When they got to Korisan, Elkan would find somewhere to lock the Ramunnan out of the way.
Hanion turned to go, but Elkan stopped him, reaching to grasp his hand. “Thank you, Hanion. I don’t think Master Dabiel could have done what you’re doing. I know I couldn’t. We’re lucky to have you as Guildmaster.”
Hanion returned his grip. “That’s high praise indeed, coming from you. I’ll do my best to live up to it.” His hand tightened on Elkan’s arm. “If anything happens to me, I name you my successor.” He looked around at the other wizards. “You’ll witness to that, if a window can’t?”
They murmured their assent, Josiah’s voice distinctly loud and enthusiastic among the rest. Elkan swallowed hard against the tightness in his throat. “I’m honored.” He released Hanion and stepped back. “May the Mother be with you in your task.”
“And with you in yours,” Hanion said seriously. He nodded to everyone, gave Mavke a long, searching glance, then strode downhill toward the docks.
Elkan took a deep breath and turned to the other wizards. “Someone will have to stay behind in hiding and use windows to watch Hanion’s reports. Maybe spy on the Ramunnans as well, learn what they plan, send messengers to Korisan with what you find…” The Law strictly limited how wizards were allowed to use windows, but surely the Mother would permit sufficient latitude in this instance.
Savir nodded sharply. “Music and I will.” The gray-blue speckled hound at his side wagged his tail in agreement. “We don’t mind living rough. And there are enough dogs in Elathir we won’t be conspicuous.”
“Thank you.” Elkan furrowed his brow. “You’ll have to make contact with the watchers, set up times for reports, places you can get within a mile of without being caught—”
“We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry.” Savir waved away his concerns.
Elkan clasped Savir’s hand, trying to convey his gratitude in the grip. Savir was a year younger than he was, newly made master, but they’d been close friends since they were apprentices, and Elkan had confidence in his abilities. He only wished he didn’t have to expose so many of the people he cared about to danger.
Savir waved farewell and slipped off down a side street that led to some wooded land by the river, Music loping at his heels. When they were out of sight, Elkan beckoned for the rest of the party to follow him in the opposite direction. “Let’s go.”
The main road to Korisan ran along the north side of the Tarath. That was the route he’d taken two years ago on his masterwork journey. But if they tried to cross the bridge they’d be in full sight of the docking ships. And the road would be packed with refugees who’d slow their progress.
It was possible to get to Korisan on this side of the river, crossing at the ford just downstream of where the Deorga flowed into the Tarath. But the way was much less direct, consisting of a network of smaller roads that served the many farms in the area. Luckily he’d traveled most of it the previous spring while working to heal the wheat blight. The maps he’d spent so much time poring over were graven in his memory.
He led them northwest out of the city. Josiah kept lagging behind when he took his eyes off the road to peer into a small window over his palm. They’d traveled about half a mile when Josiah said, “Wait! Look.” He thrust out his hand and the window swelled large enough for everyone to see.
“We don’t have time—” Elkan started, then broke off as he saw Hanion stride onto the dock. The gold edges of the Guildmaster’s cloak glittered in the light of the lantern he held. The first of the Ramunnan ships reached the dock, and sailors leapt over the rail to make it fast.
Elkan fretted at the delay, but he wanted as badly as everyone else to see what happened. The outcome of this encounter was important, he rationalized. He needed to know whether Hanion was able to accomplish the task he’d set himself in order to make the correct decisions in the coming days.
After a few minutes a cluster of what were clearly high-ranking Armada officers descended from the ship and approached Hanion. The one in the center wore an elaborately decorated uniform and a large hat. He eyed Hanion warily. “Who are you?”
Hanion bowed to him, shadows dancing wildly as the lantern swung in his hand. “I’m Master Hanion Watchkin Wizard, Guildmaster of the Wizards’ Guild and head of the Council of Guildmasters. I’ve come to offer you Tevenar’s surrender.”
One of the officers sniggered. “I told you they’d roll over and play dead once they got a taste of the Secret.”
“Quiet, Lieutenant.” The leader inclined his head condescendingly to Hanion. “I’m Commodore Tonden Benarre. I accept your surrender, wizard.” His eyes narrowed. “Where’s your beast?”
Hanion’s shoulders drooped. “Mavke was killed when your weapon struck the ship we were defending.”
Elkan admired how convincingly he lied, with just the right undercurrents of anguish and anger. He glanced down at where Mavke had his eyes fixed on the window along with everyone else. The dog’s tail wagged furiously.
In the window, Hanion held out a rolled sheet of paper and continued. “Here are the terms of our surrender. The people of Tevenar relinquish all claim to independence and agree to pledge our unreserved loyalty to the Matriarch. We only ask that you remember we’re a peaceful people, unaccustomed to war. Most of the folk of Elathir fled in fear when they saw you approaching. I ask y
ou to allow them to return to their homes, and not pursue those too terrified to come back immediately. We’ll provide you with whatever you require to the best of our ability, but we humbly request that you refrain from destroying our means of livelihood.”
The lieutenant spit on the ground. “Cowards and peasants, Commodore. This one belongs in the Beggar’s Quarter, the way he whines.” He prepared to spit again, this time on Hanion, but a curt gesture from the commodore stopped him.
Benarre accepted the scroll. “We agree to your terms, on the condition that all wizards and their beasts be turned over to us immediately.”
Hanion spread his hands. “Many died aboard the defending ships. The few who made it back fled.” He clamped his lips shut and flicked his eyes to one side.
Commodore Benarre stepped forward threateningly. “Where did they go?”
“I don’t know!” Hanion insisted, but his voice lacked conviction.
Benarre motioned to the disdainful lieutenant. A swift stride took him behind Hanion, and he grabbed the Guildmaster’s arms. “I think you’re lying, wizard. Maybe this will teach you to be more truthful.” He wrenched one arm up behind Hanion’s back.
Mavke yelped. Elkan’s face went cold. In the window, Hanion’s face crumpled and he writhed in the lieutenant’s grasp. “North!” he cried. “They took the fastest ship and sailed north. There’s an outpost, Gemgeda, two weeks’ journey from here. Please, that’s all I know—” He cried out as the lieutenant applied more pressure to his arm.
“Enough, Mirlen,” Benarre said. “Let him go.”
Lieutenant Mirlen gave Hanion’s arm a final yank and released him with a cruel laugh. “There’s plenty more where that came from, old man.”
Benarre grimaced in disgust but didn’t reprimand him. “Send the Tenalla north after them. Wizard, where does this Mother-forsaken backwater of yours keep whatever sorry excuse for a government it’s got?”
Hanion cowered, shooting Mirlen a fearful glance. “The Council of Guildmasters meets at the Mother’s Hall.” He pointed.
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