He’d have to catch Josiah off guard. The boy wasn’t afraid of him. He didn’t know about the flint and flask of oil in Tenorran’s pouch. He thought he’d foiled a simple escape attempt, not a mission of destruction. Maybe Tenorran could win his trust enough to make him careless.
He made his voice rueful. “I thought I had the perfect opportunity to get away. Everyone was so busy celebrating no one noticed me leave.”
“Celebrating?” Josiah’s voice quickened. “What happened?”
“Apparently you won a great victory.” Tenorran didn’t try to hide his displeasure. “On the road east of town. Everyone kept bragging about how no one on either side was killed.”
“Hah! I knew Elkan could do it. Sorry, Tenorran, you’re going to have to get used to it. We’re going to send your Armada fleeing back to Ramunna whimpering, and there’s nothing you or your friends can do about it.” Josiah sounded as happy as Tenorran could have wished.
He disliked the thought of hurting the boy, but this was war. Josiah was nearly as old as Tenorran had been when he joined the Armada. In the first battle he’d destroyed an Armada ship, killing dozens of Tenorran’s comrades. He’d willingly assumed the risks that went with becoming a soldier.
And of course, he was far from defenseless. The Mother’s power was a formidable weapon. Tenorran would have to strike without warning and kill or disable the boy with a single blow. The beast would be no danger alone.
They’d walked less than half a mile when his chance came. A short path branched down to a pebbled beach at a curve in the river. Tenorran licked dry lips and cast a longing look at the water. “Please, can we stop for a drink?”
Josiah gestured for him to turn down the path. “Go ahead.”
Tenorran knelt to scoop up a handful of water. Beside him Josiah did the same. The donkey watched them both for a moment, then lowered his head, thrust his muzzle deep, and drank thirstily.
Tenorran snatched his knife from its sheath and hurled himself at Josiah. He threw an arm around the boy’s neck, jerked his head back, and slashed his throat.
Warm blood gushed over his hands. Josiah struggled in his grip, then went limp. Tenorran let the body slide to the ground. His legs were shaking. He’d never killed someone with his own hands before.
The donkey whirled, eyes wide and frantic, ears plastered back. Tenorran stumbled away. Instead of pursuing, the donkey dropped his wet nose to the boy’s gaping wound. Gold light exploded around them.
Tenorran stared. Josiah was clearly unconscious if not dead, but that wasn’t stopping the donkey. Before Tenorran’s unbelieving eyes, the boy’s wound closed.
He wrenched back control of his frozen limbs. He’d have to deal with the donkey, too. Now, while it was distracted.
The little knife was even more pitiful a weapon against the beast than against a man, but it would have to do. An eye would be vulnerable. He lunged for the donkey’s head.
Before the knife made contact, more light erupted. It enveloped him and froze him in place. Through the shimmering golden haze he watched the last few inches of the knife slash seal shut. Only a thin pink scar remained.
The donkey continued to work for a long time. At last the boy blinked. He took a few deep breaths. His hand rose to his neck and he traced the scar with trembling fingers.
“Dear Mother,” he whispered. He cleared his throat experimentally. “That was close.” He struggled to sit up and threw his arms around the donkey’s neck, burying his face in its neck. “Dear Mother. How many times have you saved my life now, Sar?”
They both seemed oblivious to Tenorran’s presence, but the light holding him prisoner never wavered. After a long silence, Josiah climbed shakily to his feet. He leaned on the donkey for support and panted for a while before he straightened and turned to face Tenorran.
An invisible force pried Tenorran’s fingers open and the bloody knife slipped from his grasp. It flew to Josiah’s hand. He stared at it for a long moment, then grimaced. “You don’t know how much I want to stick this in your throat right now. Or toss you in the river. Or have Sar rip a few arteries loose in your brain.”
Tenorran tensed, unable to flinch. Deep rage underlay the boy’s conversational tone. Tenorran tried to speak. His lips met resistance for a moment, then moved freely. “You should.” He swallowed hard, striving for the dignity of a soldier resigned to death. “I’ll try to kill you again if I get the chance. I can’t let the information you carry reach our enemies.”
Josiah scowled. “Unfortunately, the Mother won’t let us kill you unless you’re an immediate threat. Now that we’ve got you back under control, you’re not. But I certainly won’t let my guard down again.” He plucked at his blood-drenched tunic, screwing up his face in disgust. “Keep contact with me while I wash this out, Sar.”
Boy and donkey went through some awkward maneuvers while Josiah stripped off his tunic and rinsed it in the river, but they never broke contact and the golden light never weakened. When Josiah was dressed again the light plunged Tenorran’s bloody hands beneath the surface until they were clean.
The boy wound the fingers of one hand in the donkey’s mane and grabbed Tenorran’s upper arm with the other. The glow shifted until instead of springing from the point where donkey and boy touched, it emanated from Josiah’s hand gripping Tenorran’s arm. No one looking at them would ever guess that the donkey was capable of using the Mother’s power without the wizard’s help.
No, that wasn’t quite true. He’d needed Josiah’s touch. But not his conscious participation.
Tenorran gritted his teeth as the light compelled his legs into jerky motion. Resisting did no good, but he fought the implacable force anyway. As they neared Korisan he threw all his frantic terror into the effort, but nothing could stop their steady progress. The boy frowned and the donkey laid his ears back, but other than that they ignored his struggles. Finally, when the buildings of the town surrounded them, Tenorran gave up. He hung limp, letting the golden light of the Mother’s power manipulate his limbs like a puppet’s strings.
He’d failed. The blasting mill still stood. Josiah would inform the others of his lie. The Tevenarans would never allow him another opportunity to sabotage their efforts. When they turned him over to Commander Benarre, thinking they were being merciful, he’d be executed for betraying the Secret.
Twenty-Five
He’d been dead.
In the instant after Tenorran’s knife drew a line of fire across his throat, as warm wetness soaked his tunic and his vision darkened, Josiah had known beyond any doubt his life was over. There hadn’t been time for fear, or grief, or anger, or any other emotion, only certainty. Soon he’d stand before the Mother again. This time she wouldn’t send him back.
When he’d opened his eyes to see, not the Mother’s beautiful face, but Sar’s anxious brown eyes and whiskered muzzle, and felt the fading pain of his healed wound and the shaky weakness of blood loss instead of the warm contentment of the Mother’s presence, he’d been confused. When he’d realized in a rush of relief that Sar’s quick action had snatched him from the brink of death, he’d shoved that moment of knowledge to the back of his mind. He hadn’t really died. That’s all that mattered.
The danger had been so brief, the crisis so swiftly averted, that it might as well not have happened. It didn’t change anything important. He’d be weak until his body could replace the blood he’d lost, and he’d have to eat a lot of blood-fortifying foods over the next few days, because the Mother’s power could only speed the process if it had raw materials to work with. He’d carry the thin scar on his neck for the rest of his life. Those things were a small price to pay for preventing Tenorran’s escape. Once they turned him over to Elkan, Josiah could forget the whole incident. Everything would go back to normal.
Except it had happened, and nothing would ever be normal again. He’d been dead, and yet here he was walking and talking and breathing, when even the Mother’s power couldn’t bring the dead back to li
fe.
Sar’s neck was warm and comforting beneath his hand, his presence solid and sure in his mind, but Josiah shied away from sharing his turbulent emotions with his familiar. Sar wouldn’t understand. Death didn’t mean the same thing to animals as it did to people. The donkey thought of returning to the Mother as matter-of-factly as he did falling asleep at night. Maybe Josiah should too, since after seeing the Mother and talking to her he had a pretty good idea of what came next, but he didn’t. Death was hugely significant. Coming so close to it, far closer than he ever had before, overwhelmed him in ways he couldn’t understand or cope with. If anyone tried to dismiss it as if it didn’t matter, even his familiar, Josiah might lose his tenuous control. He wasn’t sure whether he’d explode into a raging tantrum or collapse in a sobbing heap. Either would interfere with his ability to finish the task that must be done. He kept a tight rein on his thoughts so Sar wouldn’t realize how upset he was.
Finally they made it to the plaza in front of the Mother’s Hall. Dozens of lamps shone in the fading twilight. Music drifted through the air. People thronged the space, laughing and chattering and stuffing themselves with delicious-smelling delicacies. Josiah’s stomach growled, but he ignored it. There’d be time enough to make up for days of travel rations later.
A watcher hurried up to him, eyeing the light around Tenorran. “Trouble?”
“Yeah. He tried to run off. Can you find Elkan and tell him I need him?”
The watcher nodded sharply. “Take him to the jail. I’ll send Master Elkan there.”
“Thanks.” Josiah trudged through the crowd, which parted to let them through. Curiosity lit every face, but he was far too tired to explain. Thank the Mother Sar had plenty of energy to keep her power flowing over their prisoner. If they had to keep this up much longer Josiah might have to ask the donkey to divert a little light to move his own legs. They turned down the street that led to the Watch headquarters, leaving the crowd behind.
As they reached the large stone building, Elkan hurried up, Tobi loping on one side, Meira striding on the other. Light poured from his master’s hand and helped maneuver Tenorran through the door. “Thank the Mother you’re safe. What happened?”
“It’s a long story.” Josiah gestured toward Tenorran. “I caught him north of town, trying to escape. He lied to us about the weapons. And he—” Josiah broke off. He couldn’t face Elkan’s reaction just yet. “After we get him locked up I’ll tell you everything. Can you take him? I’m exhausted.”
Elkan didn’t ask questions, only nodded grimly and assumed control of Tenorran. Josiah leaned on Sar and panted while his master and the watchers on duty searched Tenorran and locked in the same cell he’d occupied before giving his parole.
Meira pressed a small pie into his hands. “Eat. You’ll feel better.”
Josiah accepted eagerly and bit into the pastry. It was stuffed with ground beef seasoned with savory spices. Josiah hadn’t tasted anything so good in weeks.
Master Ralshan stormed up. “What’s going on?”
Josiah swallowed the bite of pie, trying to think of what to say. But before he could speak, Elkan’s hand fell on his shoulder. “Tenorran tried to escape. Josiah intercepted him and brought him back here.” He displayed a fire starting kit and a flask of oil. “He was carrying these. I suspect he intended to set fire to the blasting powder mill.”
Ralshan’s eyes widened. “I told you not to trust him!”
“You were right. He’s safely locked up again.” Elkan drew Josiah forward, nodding to Ralshan. “Keep him under guard from now on.”
“I need every watcher I’ve got to keep some semblance of order in the chaos you’ve brought to Korisan. You dumped three hundred Ramunnan prisoners in my lap today and told me to figure out what to do with them. Now you expect me to deal with your mistake?” Ralshan took a threatening step toward Elkan.
Josiah flinched, but Elkan didn’t budge. “I’ve admitted I was wrong.”
“Are you going to be eating breakfast with him every day, like before? And sending folks to cozy up to him and try to make friends?” Ralshan’s voice dripped with scorn.
Elkan’s shoulders slumped. “I’m afraid Tenorran’s proven any attempts to befriend him are useless. Just keep him contained until we have a chance to return him to his people.”
Ralshan scowled. “At least he’s out of my house!” He swept past Elkan and Josiah into the headquarters building. The door crashed shut behind him.
Elkan shook his head and sighed. “Josiah, let’s go to the Mother’s Hall and sit down. I want you to tell me everything you’ve been up to. Meira, you should go back to the plaza. I’d hate for you to miss the celebration, and I know you want to get back to Ravid.”
“No, she needs to hear, too. I found out what’s wrong with our weapon,” he told Meira urgently.
Her eyes widened. “Ravid’s fine with Zagan for a while. We can grab more food on our way through.”
Elkan had no choice but to agree. Josiah started giving an account of his trip to Elathir as they walked through the dark streets back to the bright, noisy square. He broke off as they waded through the crowds to obtain heaping plates. Elkan led them into the Mother’s Hall, through the dim quiet space of the main room, and into the office he’d borrowed from Korisan’s guildmaster. He seated himself behind the desk, gathered the papers scattered across its surface, and gestured for Josiah and Meira to take the facing chairs. Tobi sprawled at his feet; Sar stationed himself at Josiah’s back. “Go on.”
Josiah resumed his tale. He passed on every detail he could remember. Any one of them, even the most trivial-seeming, might prove important when Elkan led the army to recapture the city. Elkan listened intently and jotted frequent notes.
When he got to the main part, Josiah retrieved his sketches from Sar’s saddlebags. He spread them on the desk. “When we used the Mother’s power to light up the inside of the weapon, this is what we saw.”
Meira leaned close and studied the spiraling lines. “So these grooves make the ball spin? I suppose that might make it fly farther.”
“It’s got to be the missing factor. Everything else about our weapon matches theirs. I checked very carefully. This is the only thing we couldn’t observe before. And Tenorran lied about it. He must have known a smooth bore would give ours a shorter range.”
“True.” Meira sat back, frowning. “Unless it’s only part of the problem. Our blasting powder might still be weaker than theirs.”
Josiah grinned. He pulled one of the sacks of powder from Sar’s pack and dropped it in the middle of the desk. “We can check.”
Meira straightened with an exclamation of pleasure. Elkan raised his eyebrows. “How did you get that? Or do I want to know?”
While Meira opened the sack and examined a pinch of the dark gray powder, rolling it between her fingers, sniffing it, even touching a grain to her tongue, Josiah poured out the story. Elkan winced when Josiah described disabling the trap in the door, but he listened intently to the details of Savir’s plan.
He pulled out a map and a box of round wooden markers. Josiah watched him pile the little disks on the outlines of Korisan and Elathir and push them back and forth down both sides of the blue line of the Tarath. “It could work.” With a scowl he removed three of the disks marked “R” from Elathir and put them next to Korisan, diverting a disk marked “T-F” to join them. “If I take Meira’s suggestion and have the captured Ramunnans build their own prison, one group of foot fighters will be enough to guard them. That still leaves fewer defenders for Korisan than I like. I wasn’t planning on splitting up the fighters.”
“You’ll have to leave some in Korisan even if you do attack down the main road. The Ramunnans could send a group up the far side of the river and get behind you.” Josiah pushed disks around to demonstrate what he meant.
“True.” Elkan studied the map for several more minutes before leaning back in his chair with a sigh and returning his attention to Josiah. “I take it
that’s what you did?”
“Yeah. I went up to Barlith and took the ferry across.” The smaller town was about five miles upriver from Korisan. “Everything was going fine until I ran into Tenorran.”
Elkan shook his head. “Thank the Mother you stopped him from reaching the mill.”
Josiah shivered. They’d moved some of the blasting powder they’d ground to a storage shed near the army camp, but many pounds of it were still at the mill. All their hard work would have blown up if Tenorran had succeeded it setting the building on fire.
His master grinned at Josiah. “You realize, between what you accomplished in Elathir and keeping Tenorran from destroying the mill, you’ve made it impossible for me to be angry at you for running off against my express orders. And you came through it unscathed. If you’d been here for the battle, you might not have been so lucky.”
Josiah looked away. “Actually…” He wished he could skip this part of the story, but Elkan was bound to find out eventually. Better to get it in the open now. “We had a little trouble with Tenorran. I probably should have taken his knife away, but it was so small I didn’t bother. We stopped to get a drink from the river, and I guess I quit paying attention for a minute. He grabbed me and yanked my head back…” Josiah’s hand rose involuntarily to brush the scar on his throat.
Elkan’s eyes followed his gesture, and he stiffened. “Dear Mother!” He grabbed for Tobi and sent golden light spilling over Josiah. “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”
Josiah shrugged, squirming in embarrassment. “I’m fine. Sar got to me in time.”
“Barely, from how low on blood you are.” Elkan let the light die and came around the desk. He traced the scar with expert fingers. “It looks like he only got one artery. Otherwise even Sar couldn’t have healed you fast enough.” His arms went around Josiah in a fierce hug. “Blast it, Josiah, you’re not allowed to get yourself killed.”
The Wizards' War Page 37