His master’s praise restored Josiah’s spirits wonderfully, sweeping away his foreboding about the future. He hugged Sar and released him. His steps quickened as he spotted the rectangular bulk of the Mother’s Hall rising over Korisan’s rooftops. “I hope they’re making enough food. I’m starving! They brought us the midday meal at the mill, but that was a long time ago.”
Elkan’s grin brightened. “The Cooks’ Guild has risen to the occasion beyond all expectations. The masters from Korisan are determined to outdo those from Elathir, and vice versa. We get to enjoy the results of their competition.”
“I can’t wait.” Josiah lengthened his stride. He could smell the rich savory scent of the waiting meal drifting out to welcome them.
* * *
Elkan sped up to keep pace with Josiah, although if he’d been alone his steps would have dragged the way they had when he’d approached the erstwhile fulling mill. He’d braced himself to face Meira. Learning that he’d missed her had been a relief. Yet if she’d been there, the encounter he dreaded would be behind him instead of remaining to be endured.
At first the Cooks’ Guild had taken over the kitchen in the Mother’s Hall, but as refugees and volunteers continued to pour in they’d shifted operations to the plaza outside. He’d arranged for them to serve all who were displaced from their homes, with promises that the Council of Guildmasters would compensate them for their labor when the crisis was over. The food from Ramunna would last for some time yet, although a lot of it was still sitting in warehouses in Elathir. Maybe he should try to find traders with the skills to smuggle it out. He could offer amnesty for any past crimes in return.
Josiah scanned the masses waiting to file past the cauldrons and receive their bowls of soup. “There they are!” he exclaimed. He grabbed Elkan’s arm and dragged him across the plaza. Tobi bounded ahead to clear a path through the crowd. Folk scattered before the mountain cat.
Before he could prepare himself, she was in front of him. Meira glanced up from the cluster of strangers she was earnestly conversing with and met his eyes. The shock of the contact drove the breath from his lungs. Any faint hope he’d harbored that their time apart had muted his desire for her vanished, drowned beneath the wave of longing that swept over him. He wanted desperately to stride up to her, take her in his arms, and bend his head to press his lips against hers.
He did no such thing, of course. After a frozen instant he plastered a smile he hoped conveyed pleased friendliness across his face. “Meira. It’s good to see you again.”
She smiled and nodded at him, apparently no more affected by his presence than he was pretending to be by hers. “How long has it been? Two years?”
“Nearly.” Two years come fall. The leaves had blanketed the mountains around Shalinthan in red and gold as he walked away from her. “You don’t know how happy I was to get Josiah’s message and learn that you’ve been developing Master Noadiah’s blasting powder. We thought we’d have nothing but his notes to work from.”
She glanced at Josiah, who was beaming at them between longing looks toward the soup pots. “He told you what I want in return for letting you use it?”
“Yes. I don’t see any reason why there shouldn’t be a Blasters’ Guild, and I know you’ll make an excellent guildmaster.”
“You’ll support my rights to the blasting powder against the Miners’ Guild?” She watched him with wary eyes.
“Of course. Yours is clearly the better claim.” Actually, if under normal circumstances someone else had approached the Council of Guildmasters with her request, he would have reluctantly sided with the Miners’ Guild. A master miner had invented the powder, and another developed it. But as far as he was concerned, Meira’s willingness to devote her knowledge of the blasting powder to the defense of Tevenar had more than earned her the right to exclusive use of it once the war was over. “Assuming there’s still—” He broke off the dismal thought.
“Assuming there’s still a Miners’ Guild after the Ramunnans are through with us,” she finished for him, softly.
“And a Wizards’ Guild, and a Council of Guildmasters, and a Tevenar.” He returned her bleak smile. “I try not to dwell on the possibility there might not be.”
“But you never forget, either.” Before he could reply, she bent and scooped Ravid into her arms. “Ravid, this is Master Elkan. You don’t remember him, but he travelled with us from Darilla to Shalinthan when you were a baby.”
Ravid eyed him distrustfully before burying his face in his mother’s shoulder and wrapping his arms around her neck. Meira laid her cheek against his head. “Today’s been pretty overwhelming for him, I’m afraid. So many people! He’s used to just our little group.”
“I understand,” Elkan assured her. He suppressed irrational jealousy as Meira nuzzled Ravid’s hair and kissed his forehead. “If you need to keep him with you until he settles in, it won’t be a problem. Josiah and Master Rada have got matters at the mill well in hand.”
The line shuffled toward the soup pots. Meira moved to keep pace with the eager Josiah and the rest of the group. “I might do that for a few days. But I’m sure he’ll be ready to enjoy playing with the other children at the Mother’s Hall before long. Zagan said that’s where they told him to take the boys? He stayed with them today, but he really wants to join the other cooks.”
“Yes. We’re asking anyone whose skills aren’t vital to take turns minding the children, so that parents whose skills we need can work full days without having to worry about arranging care for them. Like you.” He strove to keep his voice free of any trace of suspicion or hostility. “And… Zagan?”
“Where are my manners? Let me introduce you.” She laid her hand on the arm of one of the men in her group. “This is Master Zagan Brewerkin Cook. He feeds our camp, and he and I trade off half days with Ravid and Dobon.” She indicated the youngster pulling at Zagan’s hand. “Zagan, this is Master Elkan Farmerkin Wizard.”
Zagan clasped Elkan’s hand, eyeing him with as much wariness as Elkan felt. “Meira’s told me a lot about you.”
“Nothing bad, I hope.” Elkan kept his tone light and his smile friendly.
Zagan glanced at Meira with a protectiveness that hit Elkan like a punch in the gut. “She speaks very highly of you. And from what Josiah says, we have you to thank for saving Tevenar from famine.”
“Yes, well, I had a great deal of help. And I started this war in the process.”
Meira frowned at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s because of you we haven’t lost it already. Josiah says Ramunna would have attacked us eventually no matter what you did.”
“Probably,” Elkan admitted. “The factions in Ramunna were determined to set the Matriarch against us. They were bound to succeed sooner or later.”
“Thank the Mother you got here before the Armada did.” Zagan put his arm around Meira’s shoulders. “We’ll do everything in our power to help you defeat them.” Meira smiled up at Zagan and nodded in agreement.
“Thank you,” Elkan choked out. He tore his eyes away from them. “Um, if you’ll excuse me. I need—I’ll be back in a moment.” He strode off toward the Mother’s Hall.
What was wrong with him? If Meira had taken up with the cook, it was none of his business. He’d refused her, not the other way around. She had every right to move on. He should be glad she hadn’t spent the intervening years pining after him. He should be thanking the Mother for this evidence that he hadn’t hurt her as badly as he’d feared. Not fighting the urge to drag Zagan away from Meira and punch him in the face.
He pushed open the doors of the building. Thank the Mother, the big room was deserted, everyone outdoors enjoying the warm weather and good food. Tobi, come with me.
She tagged along at his heels. You want company in the privy?
No. His face burned. I need— Smash it, this was embarrassing. Sar had always picked up on what he wanted without complicated explanations, just as Elkan had understood and cooperated when the donkey
needed to moderate his unruly stallion’s urges. It was easy to temporarily lower the levels of the substances responsible with no long term effects. He sent Tobi a mental image of what he wanted her to do.
Tobi’s laughter echoed inside his skull. Really? She’s got you worked up like a randy tom? Why don’t you just—
It’s no different than when you went into heat last fall and we took care of it.
The reminder sobered her only a little. Believe me, if I’d been free to find a nice male instead of being stuck in the middle of the ocean, there’d have been no need. You didn’t smell the way she reacted when she saw you? I’d think even your puny nose would’ve picked it up.
Familiars never understood that relationships were more complicated for humans than for animals. It doesn’t matter. Please, just take care of it.
If you insist. She pressed her head into his hand and a warm glow washed over his body.
It helped, but he doubted the effect would last long if he spent much time around Meira. He’d either have to keep his distance or keep sneaking off with Tobi.
You know, if you want I could do something more perma—
No! He jerked his hand away as her laughter rang in his mind.
She swiped her rough tongue across his hand and bounded away, still laughing. He scowled after her, then continued on to the privy, just in case anyone happened to spot him and wonder what he was doing. When he went back out to the plaza the mountain cat took her place at his side as if she’d never dreamed of anything but perfect behavior.
For the rest of the evening it was easier to interact with Meira and the others normally, even when Zagan hovered around her the way courtiers hovered around the Matriarch, hanging on her every word. He was able to carry on a long, detailed conversation about her use of the blasting power to excavate her new mine, and her ideas about how to best utilize the weapons they’d be building. She listened, fascinated, to his descriptions of everything he could remember about the battle, what he’d observed through windows of the expert way the Ramunnans handled the explosive powder, and how the Ramunnan ships were designed to conceal the secret weapon even from their own sailors and officers.
She sobered at the tale of the Secrets officers’ suicides, but when he told her about Tenorran her eyes lit up. “I’ll have to talk to him. He’s got to know more about the weapons than you were able to see. If I can get him to tell me exactly how long the tubes are, how thick their walls are, what the interior is like, how they forge the projectiles…”
“Good luck with that.” Elkan grimaced. “He hasn’t uttered ten words together since he turned himself over.”
“Let me try. He might be more willing to speak to me than to you.” She grinned at him and playfully fluttered her lashes.
The feelings Tobi had numbed stirred back to life. Elkan forced himself to nod thoughtfully, although the thought of her flirting with Tenorran sickened him. “It’s worth a try.” The future of Tevenar was at stake. That was far more important than his personal feelings. If Meira could seduce a few vital details about the weapon out of Tenorran, it would be worth any anguish Elkan might suffer.
“First thing in the morning, then. Before I head out to the mill.”
“All right. Meet me here at sunrise and I’ll take you to the Watch headquarters.”
“Sounds good.” Meira yawned. “It’s getting late. Ravid’s sleepy, and I need to get to bed soon or I’ll be useless tomorrow.”
Elkan took her bowl and spoon, gathered more from the rest of the company, and carried them to where the dishwashers were hard at work. Though he tried not to, he couldn’t help but picture Meira tucked in among the blankets in her tent. Would it be only her and Ravid snuggled together? Or would Zagan curl around them the way Elkan longed to, keeping them warm and safe through the night?
With a silent curse Elkan banished the image. He stalked to where Josiah was regaling a group of wizard apprentices with the tale of their experiences in Ramunna. “Time to turn in.” He ignored the chorus of protest. “You’ll need all your energy in the morning.”
“But, master, I was just at the part where the Matriarch’s soldiers broke into our rooms and—”
“You can tell them the rest tomorrow.” He glared until the apprentices moved away, grumbling and muttering. At least Josiah knew better than to argue further. He called Sar and followed Elkan into the Hall, not even complaining about the thin pallet in the corner of the apprentice barracks that was the best Elkan had been able to reserve for him.
Elkan retired to the room he was sharing with three other wizards and their familiars. As soon as everyone had settled, he spoke silently to Tobi. Help me go to sleep, please.
What? Still antsy? You wouldn’t need my help if you gave that female of yours a good—
Just do it!
All right, all right. No need to snarl. Tobi rose from the corner where she had curled and padded to his bedside.
Remorse for treating his familiar badly joined the stew of frustration, anxiety, and regret seething in his stomach. But before he could apologize, she touched his cheek with her nose and sent the Mother’s power into his brain, forcing it to shift into the patterns of sleep.
Fourteen
Tenorran steeled himself for another miserable meal as the key rattled in the lock. But when the guard swung the door open, instead of the wizard, a woman came in.
He eyed her warily as she seated herself in the other chair and a servant placed bowls of porridge on the table between them. It unnerved him to see women dressed in the Tevenaran fashion, breeches and tunics indistinguishable from what the men wore. You might encounter a woman going about any task, no matter how inappropriate to her sex. A good half of the guards in this prison were female. The small barred windows in his cell had allowed him to observe women working at the docks, driving carts through the streets, and drilling with weapons in the fields next to the men. A disturbingly large number of the people he saw had faces, body shapes, and hairstyles so ambiguous he couldn’t be sure which sex they were.
That wasn’t an issue with his visitor. Her closely tailored tunic revealed distinctly feminine curves. She extended a hand. “My name is Meira Smithkin Miner. You’re Tenorran Fovarre?”
Tenorran clasped her hand in the Tevenaran manner, releasing it as soon as her grip loosened. “That’s right.” This must be another attempt to get information. He supposed he should be glad they hadn’t tortured him, but these attempts to befriend him were almost harder to endure. It would be so easy to surrender to their kindness, to trust one of them for a moment. Just long enough for a little human contact, a few unguarded words, a shared laugh, a slight unnoticed slip of the tongue…
Her smile invited such rapport. “Elkan tells me you worked with the secret weapons. I’m helping develop ours. I already know how to manufacture the blasting powder, but I need—
Tenorran’s surprise was too great to remain silent. “You’re the one who discovered the Secret?”
“My master, Noadiah, invented it. He spent years perfecting the formula. When he died, I inherited his notes, and I’ve been working with it ever since.”
“But the Secret’s dangerous!”
Judging by her annoyed frown, he wasn’t the first person to raise that objection. “So are picks and hammers and the rest of a miner’s tools. Or fire and a cook’s knives, for that matter. Sailors can fall overboard, a herder’s animals can bite her, a carpenter can slice off a finger with her own saw. My mother’s burned herself dozens of times while melting gold. No craft is without risks.”
Tenorran felt disoriented. “Women are permitted to do those things?”
“Permitted?” Her puzzlement seemed genuine. “Who would forbid us? I don’t see why you’re so surprised. Elkan tells me your own mother is the Matriarch of Ramunna.”
“That’s different.” All his conflicting feelings regarding his parentage rushed to the surface. “Tradition—”
“Never mind. That’s not what I came to
discuss.” The woman—Meira, she’d said her name was—waved her hand. “I’ve only used the blasting powder for mining. The weapons the wizards saw are very different. Anything you can tell me will be a great help. I promise we’ll make it worth your while.” She toyed with a strand of her hair. “I’m sure you’d like to get out of this cramped little cell, for a start.”
Longing for the open air nearly swamped Tenorran. He looked away. “I won’t betray Ramunna.”
“We’ve seen your weapons. We know how they work. We’ll make our own, with your help or without it.” She leaned closer, giving him a view down her neckline, though it was cut too high to reveal much. Her voice dropped in pitch and volume. “But if you help me, I could make your stay with us much more… comfortable.”
Tenorran froze, his heart pounding. Her meaning was unmistakable. So that’s why they’d sent a woman this time.
How should he respond? How would other men? She was the enemy; surely that was excuse enough to reject her offer. No Secrets officer would betray his oath so lightly, no matter how tempted he felt.
But the Tevenarans didn’t know that. Here was his opportunity to sabotage their efforts. They wouldn’t have tried this tactic if they didn’t believe lust could overcome a man’s loyalty. If he pretended to be swayed by Meira’s charms, they’d find his change of heart plausible.
It was a dangerous strategy. If they realized his interest was feigned… He swallowed.
But this was the best chance he was likely to get.
He dropped his gaze to her cleavage. “Tell me more.”
“If you tell me everything you know about the weapons, I’ll be very grateful. I’ll arrange for them to move you to more pleasant lodgings, with a big soft bed instead of that little cot. I might even persuade Elkan to let you out occasionally, if you behave yourself.” The sultry tone of her voice filled the words with innuendo. “And eventually, after we’ve used our weapons so you can’t spoil the surprise, we’ll let you return to your people.” She batted her eyelashes. “If you want to.”
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