The Wizards' War

by Angela Holder

  Sar laid his ears back. You only get that look in your eyes when you’re about to do something reckless.

  Josiah looked away. I’m not going to be reckless. I’m going to think about this very carefully.

  Somehow that doesn’t reassure me. The donkey flicked one ear forward and back, swishing his tail.

  Josiah hunched his shoulders. The only strategies he could think of involved tricking one guild or the other. He was sure Sar would refuse to use the Mother’s power for deceit.

  At least, he would if he knew that’s what they were doing.

  Guilt washed over him at the thought, but he forced himself to straighten anyway, making his mental voice rueful and apologetic. Maybe you’re right. I’ll talk to Dari and see if he can think of anything. And we’ll see what happens tonight. Maybe one of the guilds will decide to do the right thing on their own, if we give them some time to think about it.

  I suppose it’s possible.

  If one does, we’ll be able to persuade the other. They both as much as said they’d go if the other did. Josiah did his best to sound optimistic. It wasn’t too hard. He really thought the plan that was falling into place in his mind had a good chance of working, as long as Sar didn’t get suspicious.

  That’s true.

  I suppose we should head back to the Mother’s Hall. Master Tamna offered us a room for—

  Josiah broke off at the hollow clatter of hooves on wood. He moved to where he could see the bridge that spanned the Jevtaro. A sweaty horse bearing two riders trotted across and turned down the main street. Smash it, Master Tian caught Rovia. He ducked between two buildings, pulling Sar with him. As the horse passed, Josiah saw Rovia sitting stiff and straight, gaze fixed ahead, behind the stern form of her uncle. I really hoped she’d get away. Now not even a single fighter from Jevtaran would reach Korisan. Elkan would be furious.

  No, worse. He would try to shield his apprentice from the bleak despair behind his eyes while he assured Josiah that he’d done the best he could. But Josiah would know he’d ruined their hopes. Tevenar would fall, and it would be his fault.

  Resolve clenched in his gut. He couldn’t let that happen. Even if it meant breaking the Law.

  When Master Tian and Rovia rode out of sight, he turned to Sar. Why don’t you head over to the Mother’s Hall and get settled in. I’ll go talk to Dari and join you in time for the evening meal.

  Sar acquiesced with a lazy flick of his ears. Don’t be late.

  I won’t. The donkey left their hiding place and made his way down the street. Josiah set off in the opposite direction. He kept his steps casual until he was certain he was beyond the range of Sar’s sensitive ears, then sped up and strode purposefully toward Master Kireh’s house.

  * * *

  Josiah waited behind a cluster of bushes outside the herder encampment. He tried to peer beyond the circle of light from his lantern, but even dimmed, its glare blinded him to what was taking place in the gloom.

  Finally, the bushes rustled and Dari slipped into the clearing, Rovia close behind him. “Nobody saw us,” he reported softly.

  “Did you explain our plan?” Josiah eyed Rovia, biting his lip. If she didn’t agree to participate, this would never work.

  “He did,” Rovia said. “I like it.” Her teeth gleamed in the lamplight. “It will serve Uncle Tian and Master Odmun and the others right to be tricked into doing what they should.”

  Dari nodded. “Mother and Master Ilman and the rest, too. If they’re too selfish and stubborn to help defend Tevenar for the right reasons, let’s give them some wrong ones.”

  “All right.” Josiah took a deep breath and passed Dari the lantern. “I’ll go over there out of sight, but I’ll be watching and listening to make sure everything seems convincing.”

  Dari grinned at him. “Don’t worry. I always wished there was a branch of the Players’ Guild in Jevtaran for me to join.”

  Rovia rolled her eyes. “By which he means he can lie like a trader.”

  Dari raised his eyebrows at her. “Who was able to convince my mother we were searching for a stray calf when she caught us down by the river?”

  Rovia blushed and looked away. “That was different.”

  “Use that same sincere tone now, and we’ll be set.” Dari nodded to Josiah and crouched behind the bushes. Josiah retreated into the darkness, beyond what a window would show. Rovia moved back toward the camp.

  After a good long space of silence, Rovia hurried into the clearing. Josiah took careful note of the position of the nearly full moon above the eastern horizon. Rovia hissed, “Dari, is that you?”

  He lifted the lantern. “Rovia?”

  She threw her arms around him. “I came as soon as I could.”

  “I told you I’d wait for you.” He pulled back a little. “Let’s get moving. Even going cross country instead of by road, they’re going to catch us unless we get a long way before the sun comes up.”

  “Dari, no.” Rovia bit her lip, then glanced back toward the camp. “It’s not worth the risk.”

  “But—”

  “It’s all right. I won’t be alone this time. My uncle told me it’s all arranged. In the morning we’re going to pack up and pretend to head back to our ranches, but once we’re out of the farmers’ sight, we’re going to circle around and make for Korisan.” Her face took on an expression of hard satisfaction. “We’ll show the wizards that herders know our duty. The farmers will look like a bunch of cowards and traitors. We’ll see who the wizards favor then!”

  Dari pulled away. “That’s my guild you’re talking about.”

  “I didn’t mean it personally,” she said with a dismissive wave. “You’ve told me often enough how different you are.”

  “That doesn’t mean I’m willing to let the herders make fools of us!”

  Rovia caught her breath. “You can’t tell them. I only told you so you wouldn’t worry about me. Promise you won’t say anything.”

  Dari narrowed his eyes and studied her for a moment. Finally he shrugged. “I promise.”

  Rovia took the lantern from his hand, set it on the ground, and pulled him close. “And I promise I won’t even look at all the handsome boys in Korisan.” She grinned flirtatiously.

  “You’d better not,” he growled.

  Her grin widened and she twined her arms around his neck, pulling his mouth to hers. He met her with a fierce ardor that quenched her playfulness. For several minutes they kissed so intently Josiah feared they’d forgotten the roles they were supposed to be playing. He looked away, his face hot, and wondered whether he should interrupt and make them start over. But the scene had gone so well he hated to waste it.

  Finally they broke apart. Dari stepped back with such a convincing air of suppressed anguish Josiah thought he really could have made a career as a player. “Good-bye, Rovia. May the Mother be with you on your journey.”

  “I’ll be home before you know it.” Rovia gave him a crooked smile.

  “I hope so.” Dari picked up the lantern and watched as Rovia reluctantly walked back toward the camp. As soon as she was out of the clearing he turned and strode toward town.

  Josiah waited until they’d gone several dozen steps before he broke cover. “That was great, both of you.”

  They both turned around and met him in the clearing. “You don’t think we should do it again?” Rovia asked.

  “No, it was perfect.” When he and Sar showed this to the farmers in a window, they’d be convinced. And when the herders saw the farmers leave for Korisan, so would they. As long as he was careful to direct Sar to begin and end his window at the proper times, he’d never suspect a thing.

  If he messed up, though, and Sar caught a glimpse too early or late, enough to figure out it was a fabrication…

  Windows couldn’t lie. Nothing in the Law specifically forbade wizards to use them this way, to make people believe things that weren’t true, but Josiah knew Sar would consider it an abuse of his position as a wizard, a betr
ayal of the people’s trust. If anything less than the future of Tevenar and the Wizards’ Guild itself were at stake, so would Josiah. If tonight’s events ever came to light, Josiah might find himself on trial again. With a different outcome, this time. He’d deserve to have his bond broken for what he was about to do.

  He crushed his doubts. He wouldn’t burden Dari and Rovia with them. They’d agreed to help him because they believed in his cause. And because he was a wizard. They trusted that a wizard would never ask them to do something the Mother wouldn’t approve.

  He took a deep breath. “I’ll get Sar. Dari, meet me at Master Ilman’s house.”

  * * *

  Josiah slipped through the double doors, through the dark, eerily quiet cavern of the Mother’s Hall, and down a short corridor to the room Master Tamna had assigned them. He pushed open the door and stepped inside. Sar was asleep in one corner, the pile of hay the apprentices had brought for him half the size it had been.

  In his mind, Josiah went over the details of what he needed to do and say one last time. If he was going to fool Sar, his story had to be perfect.

  He put a firm hand on the donkey’s shoulder. Sar, wake up!

  Sar’s grumpy voice, groggy with sleep, sounded in his head. What now?

  It’s Dari. He came to tell me that Rovia snuck out of the camp and spoke with him. When the herders leave Jevtaran tomorrow, they’re going to pretend they’re going back to their homes, but really they’re going to turn around and go to Korisan instead.

  Sar blinked at him. That’s good.

  Dari thinks that if we tell the farmers what the herders are planning, they’ll agree to go to Korisan, too. You know Master Ilman said they would. But Dari’s afraid they won’t believe him if it’s only his word. He wants us to show them his conversation with Rovia as proof.

  Sar thrust his head out and shook it, the motion continuing down his body in a shudder of skin, ending with a flick of his tail. All right. But couldn’t it have waited until morning?

  Dari wants plenty of time to persuade them. Plus, he thinks the farmers should have as long to get ready as possible. Josiah forced his hands to hang still. Sar would surely realize something was up if he twisted them.

  The donkey plodded to his side. Let’s get this done so I can go back to sleep.

  Josiah nodded, his throat dry. It was working. Sar had accepted his lie without question. All he had to do was keep up the pretense, and his familiar would never know he’d been deceived. The farmers would leave for Korisan. Rovia would take a few herders to spy on them as they went. She’d spin the agreed-upon tale: Dari had come to her and told her the farmers were going to Korisan to prove to the wizards that they were obedient while the herders were rebellious. That the wizards were right to favor the Farmers’ Guild and should do so even more in the future. Rovia had promised that would get the herders moving, intent on reaching Korisan in time to foil the farmer’s plan.

  He led the way across the silent Mother’s Hall. Moonlight slanted down from the many small windows just below the ceiling. Josiah could picture the Mother walking down the beams of light into the world, the way the First History described her coming to Gurion Thricebound, the way Kevessa had wanted to see her coming to Master Dabiel. He swallowed. If she appeared now, it wouldn’t be in answer to his summons. It would be to stop him from committing an act that would breach the people of Tevenar’s trust in the Wizards’ Guild.

  She wouldn’t, though. Whether or not to do so was his choice, a matter for his free will. She never took that away. She only made people face the consequences of their choices.

  His steps got heavier and slower as they crossed the hall and approached the doors. Sar clopped along at his side like always, suspecting nothing. He passed through the door Josiah held open for him and turned his nose toward the street that led to Master Ilman’s house.

  Josiah would stand before the Mother again someday, at the end of his life if not sooner. Even if Sar never found out how Josiah had tricked him into misusing the Mother’s power, she would know. She was watching him right now.

  Would she be angry? Maybe, but he thought not. She’d be disappointed and hurt. That would be far harder to face than anger. Somehow when she looked at you, she could make you understand to the depths of your soul exactly why what you’d done was wrong. Her pain and grief would become his own. He would be forced to confront the wrong he’d done those he’d deceived. How he’d deprived them of the free will that was the Mother’s most sacred gift. How in his arrogance he’d placed himself above them, scorning the truth of their equal worth before the Mother. How he’d violated the trust the Mother had placed in him when she’d offered him the opportunity to become a wizard.

  Josiah let go of the door. It swung closed behind him with an echoing thud.

  He couldn’t do this. It was wrong. He didn’t have to wait for her to show him someday. He knew now.

  He stopped and swallowed hard. Sar?

  What? The donkey swung around impatiently.

  I—This isn’t—I can’t—

  He couldn’t find the words to confess. Instead, he put one hand on Sar’s back and stuck the other out palm up. There’s something you ought to see.

  Sar eyed him wordlessly, then created a window over Josiah’s open hand. Miserably Josiah directed him to the moment Dari and Rovia had first come to the clearing to meet him. Sar watched without comment as they discussed the artificiality of the scene they were about to play and kept watching as Josiah hid and they played it out. Only after it was over, Josiah approved their acting, and they all went their separate ways did he let the window collapse.

  Josiah stepped back and rubbed both hands against his thighs, then stuck them in the pockets of his breeches, growing more and more uncomfortable as Sar let the silence stretch.

  Finally the donkey’s voice sounded in his mind. You intended to keep this a secret? You planned to have me show Master Ilman and the others only the false portion, without revealing to me that it was a deception?

  Josiah hunched his shoulders and ducked his head. Yeah.

  But you changed your mind. Why? Sar’s voice wasn’t angry or judgmental, just curious.

  Because I realized it would be wrong to fool you like that. Because it would be a misuse of the Mother’s power, one you’d have to break our bond for if you ever found out. Josiah chewed on his lip. If I have to, I’ll tell Dari to attempt to persuade the other farmers on his word alone, but he doesn’t think that will work.

  He knew it was hopeless, but he had to try anyway. So please, can we help him? Will you agree, in full knowledge of what we’re doing, to use a window to trick them? I believe the good to be gained by both guilds going to Korisan outweighs the wrong of lying to them. He hesitated a moment, then rushed on. If at some point this becomes an issue, if what we’ve done becomes known and it damages the trust the people of Tevenar have in the Wizards’ Guild, then you can blame everything on me and break our bond.

  Sar blinked his long-lashed eyelids several times. Josiah reflected ruefully that he’d never managed to strike his familiar speechless before. Finally Sar spoke, his mental voice gentle but implacable. I’m sorry. What you ask is against—

  Sar stopped, all his muscles tensing. His ears stood straight up and his eyes stared at something Josiah couldn’t see.

  It was Josiah’s turn to blink, confused. He wanted to ask what was happening, but he didn’t dare.

  After a moment Sar relaxed. His ears came forward, and he returned his gaze to Josiah. The Mother has instructed me to comply with your request.

  Josiah was so startled he spoke aloud. “What?”

  She considers the situation dire enough, and your scheme sufficiently within her will, to allow me to do as you ask. She warns you, however, that she will hold you to your offer if it should become necessary.

  She can. I meant it. Josiah shook his head, dazed. She really spoke to you?

  Yes. Sar flicked his ears and shuddered his skin. Please a
void the need for such direct intervention in the future. It’s not comfortable. He turned, a twitch of his tail sending its wiry strands to smack Josiah’s legs. And each time the Mother must touch the world, chaos increases.

  I will, I swear. Josiah remembered the way the hanging sculpture had swung wildly when Master Dabiel explained the concept to him.

  He shook off the memory, still amazed that the Mother had agreed to let him proceed with his plan. I guess we’d better get going. Dari will be wondering where we are.

  He hurried through the dark streets, Sar at his side.

  * * *

  Master Kireh watched Dari and Rovia’s conversation play out in the window. As Dari had requested, Josiah had Sar skip past most of their kiss. When they parted and the window closed, she frowned and looked at the circle of master farmers gathered around them. “You’re all in agreement?”

  At their murmured affirmatives, she shrugged. “All right. We leave at first light, just as we intended before my son and the herder girl disrupted our plans.”

  Josiah let out the breath he’d been holding. Dari had suggested they approach his mother last, saying that she’d go along with whatever consensus the others reached, even if she privately disagreed. He’d been right—Kireh had a vertical crease between her brows, but nodded as sharply as if she’d wanted this outcome all along.

  She pointed to Dari. “But you’re not coming with us! The council’s age limit hasn’t changed. And don’t even think of running off with that girl again where there are no wizards to save you from one of your attacks.”

  Dari bowed his head. “Yes, Mother,” he said, sounding suitably unhappy. Josiah suppressed a grin. He really should have joined the Players’ Guild. No one would ever guess they’d found a way to get Dari safely to Korisan.

  Rovia would be going directly there, as soon as she’d alerted the herders to the farmers’ departure and made sure they were following. Dari would be traveling with Josiah and Sar by way of Shalinthan. Josiah would be glad to have a companion on the road, and Dari was delighted to be able to contribute to the defense of Tevenar without risking death from his asthma.