And yet, none of it would work. Despite every effort he’d made to protect himself, he was vulnerable. If Meira died tomorrow—
He caught his breath, ice stabbing his chest. Even the thought was unbearable. Facing the reality would destroy him.
He loved her. He always had. Denying it couldn’t save him, because he was already lost.
A shadow fell across the tent flap. At the soft sliding sound of the ties coming loose he tensed and sat up. His visitor pulled the flap aside and paused a moment, haloed in silver like the Mother stepping into the world on a beam of moonlight.
No. He wasn’t going to make that mistake again. Meira was herself, real and solid and human, not some idealized vision of perfection. Unlike with Liand, he’d never had any difficulty seeing that.
“Elkan?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”
“Yes.” He swallowed, heart racing. “Come in.”
She let the flap fall and turned to refasten it. Crouching so her head wouldn’t bump the poles overhead, she came to his pallet. He scooted over and patted the space beside him.
She sat down but held herself a little away. In the darkness he couldn’t see her expression clearly, but he could sense the tension in her posture as she turned to face him.
“Please,” Meira said, her voice low. “We need to talk.”
“We do.” He felt the warmth radiating from her, smelled the sharp odor of blasting powder overlaying the rich scent of woman. His body responded, aching to put aside words and act as the Mother had designed it to do.
“Will you listen to what I have to say without interrupting me?”
“All right.” He took a deep breath and fixed his attention on her.
She looked down. “I have to ask, one more time. Even though I know you’re probably going to turn me down again. But this is our last chance. I’m so scared about tomorrow. I’m afraid you’ll do something noble and heroic and stupid and win the battle by getting yourself killed. Because that’s who you are, and I love you for it, and I wouldn’t want you to be any other way. But I hate the thought of losing you when I’ve never really had you.” She drew a deep breath. “I don’t want to die without ever making love to you. At least once. It’s not enough, it can’t be, but it would be so much better than nothing. So please, just for tonight. For me. Even if you don’t really want it for yourself…” Her voice choked into a sob.
“Dear Mother, Meira.” He reached for her and folded her to his chest. She pressed her face against him as he stroked her hair. “You have no idea how much I want you.”
“Then why do you keep pushing me away?” She pulled back to glare at him.
“I don’t know.” She frowned and opened her mouth, but he shook his head and touched his fingers to her lips, a jolt of desire shooting through him at their softness. “Truly, I don’t. I have reasons, of course, but right now none of them seem to matter.” He indulged himself by cupping her cheek in his palm. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t.” She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch. “Not in any way you have control over.”
“It’s the things outside my control I’m worried about.”
She rubbed her face against his hand and sighed, a mix of pleasure and exasperation in her tone. “If they’re beyond your control, worrying won’t help. You’re not the Mother. It’s not your job to make sure everything in the world works out right.”
Elkan flinched. “I never claimed I was.”
“Then stop acting like you think you are.” She kissed his palm to soften her words. “You’ve done amazing things. It’s enough. For tonight, at least, please, forget about the war and the Ramunnans and your responsibilities and follow your heart.”
He pulled her close and wrapped his arms around her. “I want to. So very much. But—” He swallowed. Forcing out the words was nearly impossible, and yet it felt so good to confess his weakness to her. “I’m afraid. What if, tomorrow, you—or I—” He couldn’t say the rest.
She spoke into his chest. “I won’t lie to you. It’s awful. It’s the worst thing in the world. But I’m not sorry I loved Ravid, and I’ll never be sorry I loved you. Even if I lose you.”
He cursed his thoughtlessness. How could he have forgotten that she’d already lost one man she loved? “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
She shushed him with fingertips to his lips. “I’m afraid, too. Terrified. But you know what? I don’t care. Let’s love each other while we can, and blast whatever comes.”
She removed her fingers and replaced them with her lips. The sensation burned through Elkan like a shot from one of her weapons, destroying the last remnants of his resistance. She was right. Blast whatever might come. He surrendered to her kiss, returning it tenderly at first, then with growing urgency as his long restrained desire burst from its bonds.
Eventually they separated, breathing hard. Meira raised a hand and slipped her fingers into his hair. She ran them down its full length, letting the strands slide between them. She sighed, pure pleasure this time. “I’ve wanted to do that for so very, very long.” She tilted her head and regarded him, her eyes deep pools of darkness in the dim moonlight that filtered through the canvas. “Well? Do you want me to stay?”
Sending her away would have been worse than when Sar had broken their bond and torn a thousand tendrils of connection out of his mind and heart in a blaze of burning agony. Yet he would have done it, if he’d believed that was the right choice.
But looking into her eyes, he knew. He loved Meira, now and forever. He was committed to her, body, mind, and soul.
Happiness bubbled through him. Doubt and fear fell away, leaving him light and free, floating in a shining space of joy and wonder and breathless anticipation. He buried his fingers deep in the springy waves of her hair and drew her to him, bending to whisper his answer into her ear. “Yes. Please. Stay.”
Thirty-Three
Josiah stood beside Master Ferin and peered at the outskirts of the city ahead, trying to spot movement in the early dawn grayness. He couldn’t see anything. The window Pounce held open over Master Ferin’s palm showed little more. Six Ramunnan guards stood at the point where the main road passed between the first buildings, but they didn’t seem very alert. Three were staring blankly into space, one had his eyes closed, and two were quietly conversing.
Pounce sent the window in closer and Ferin gestured for Josiah to translate. He made a face. “They’re planning a card game for after their shift ends. They suspect one of their friends has been cheating and they’re trying to come up with ways to stop him without letting on that they know.” For a moment Josiah considered the problem, coming up with a couple potential solutions before wrenching his attention back to the matter at hand. “I don’t hear anything to suggest they’ve seen us.”
“Good.” Master Rosir, the watcher that Master Edniel had assigned to lead the northern force, turned to study the ranks of fighters behind them. Everyone looked ready and eager to Josiah. The rest of the wizards clustered behind the leaders, the two big weapons and their crews next, followed by the archers and alternating groups of foot and mounted fighters. The way they continued past the spot where the main road emerged from the forest really did give the impression that massive numbers waited to pour out and engage the enemy. The Ramunnans would never guess that only a handful besides those who were visible remained in reserve.
“All right.” Rosir turned to the waiting group leaders. “Ferin, I want your wizards to go first. Incapacitate any Ramunnans you see. Helma, take your archers right behind them. Cut down any enemies the wizards can’t handle. Clear the road down to the bridge. Sachiel and Aphron, take your weapons and set up as close to the bank of the river as you can get. If any ships are in range, target them. Otherwise pick one or two warehouses on the far bank to shoot at. We don’t want to destroy our own buildings if we can avoid it, but we’ve got to get the Ramunnan’s attention. When they start sending troops across the bridge, fire over their heads
. The goal is to have as many Ramunnans as possible on the bridge when Savir sets it off.”
The two weapon leaders nodded grimly. Josiah didn’t much like Master Edniel’s modification of Savir’s original plan, but he had to admit it was a better strategy than letting the Ramunnans cross and destroying the bridge while it was empty. The more Ramunnans they killed, the fewer they’d have to fight later.
“Foot fighters, get into block formation and fill in behind the weapons. Start across the bridge if you get the chance, but be ready to retreat when I give the command. Fall on the Ramunnans as they come off. Mounted fighters, range around the outside of the foot, watching for any Ramunnans that escape the wizards and archers. When the bridge goes, surround the Ramunnans on this side and keep them from making a break for the road.”
All the leaders acknowledged their orders. Rosir surveyed their forces and the city ahead one more time. “All right. Advance.”
Ferin strode forward. Josiah wound his fingers in Sar’s mane and they hurried at her side. The rest of the wizards clustered around them, their familiars pressed close. On Ferin’s shoulder, Pounce bared his teeth and chittered defiance.
Josiah put out his palm. Sar, a window?
Shouldn’t we save our energy?
Just a small one. Please?
The donkey heaved a sigh, but a spark of gold appeared over Josiah’s hand. Sar kept the window apple-sized. Josiah watched the five guards, apparently still oblivious as the Tevenarans advanced toward them.
The drowsing guard stiffened and snapped his eyes open. “What’s that?”
One of the blankly staring guards looked confused. The other frowned. “What?”
“I thought I heard—” The guard stepped to the middle of the road and peered down it. His face went pale for a moment, then flushed red. “Smash it!” He snatched a horn from his belt and blew a blast. It blared from the window. A second later Josiah heard it from ahead, fainter and more distant, but equally strident.
The other guards drew their weapons and fell into formation across the road. Ramunnan soldiers poured from the surrounding buildings. Some of them were still pulling on uniform tunics, strapping on belts, or stringing bows, but there was much less confusion and panic than Josiah had hoped.
More than a hundred Ramunnans formed disciplined lines across the road. Clusters of soldiers trotted up every moment as horns scattered throughout the city repeated the alarm. Josiah swallowed. By the time they came within range of the Ramunnans, the enemy would nearly equal the Tevenarans in numbers.
“Master Ferin, look.” Josiah held the window up for her to see.
She glanced at it, then cursed. “We’ll have our work cut out for us.” She looked ahead. “Tell me if they start to advance. But drop the window when we get close enough to see them. You’ll need that energy later.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Josiah kept his eyes fixed on the window between quick glances to guide his feet, but the Ramunnans held their position. As they drew near, Sar let it die. Josiah chose one of the Ramunnans and pointed him out to Sar. As soon as the Mother’s power can reach, dislocate his hip.
Part of their training had focused on doing so as efficiently as possible. At the edge of their range it required an intense burst of energy, but nothing else disabled an enemy as effectively with as little permanent harm. Sar conveyed his assent.
Ferin barked, “Now!”
All the wizards thrust out their hands. Twenty threads of gold light shot toward the Ramunnans. Josiah staggered as Sar pulled strength from his muscles to force their thread to the maximum extent of its range. It jabbed their target and wound around his hip. The wrench as Sar popped the bone from its socket nearly knocked Josiah off his feet.
Their opponent collapsed, along with nineteen others. The remaining Ramunnans stepped over and between their fallen comrades to close the gaps in their ranks. Arrows sprang from bows. Josiah and Sar were forced to concentrate on blocking their flight. They came so thick and fast Josiah didn’t dare divert his attention to breaking the archers’ bows, or even their strings.
The rest of the wizards were likewise occupied. The Tevenaran archers returned fire, but the Ramunnans in front raised shields to protect themselves and the archers behind them. Rosir cursed and shouted, “Sachiel, give them something they can’t block.”
Josiah knew from watching the weapon crews drill that Sachiel’s team could get the horses unhitched and out of the way, the weapon braced and aimed, and the powder and shot loaded in less than five minutes. But for what seemed like ten times that long he and Sar grabbed arrows from the sky, with a few quick forays to wrench a bow away or snap a bowstring. Finally Sachiel’s bellow of warning sent them dodging to the side of the road. Josiah threw his hands over his ears just in time to block the worst of the tremendous boom. As always, Sachiel’s aim was perfect. The ball ripped down the center of the street, leaving shattered, bleeding Ramunnans in its wake.
Josiah’s stomach lurched with the brutality of the destruction. The Ramunnans didn’t react the way he’d hoped, either. They barely seemed surprised to be faced with their own Secret. While Sachiel’s team was reloading the weapon, they withdrew into the shelter of the buildings on either side. His second shot passed harmlessly through empty space. The archers kept shooting with barely a break.
Rosir cursed more colorfully this time. “Foot, advance!”
The groups of foot fighters poured around Sachiel’s weapon. Josiah and the other wizards fought to keep them shielded from the arrows that continued to rain down.
He was already getting tired, and the battle had barely begun. Sar, we’ve got to get closer.
Yes.
They fell in among the foot fighters and pressed toward the buildings. Behind him Josiah heard a thunk as an arrow got through the defense and struck someone. But he couldn’t spare even a moment to check on the victim, lest more arrows slip past and find targets.
Josiah ducked into the lee of the first building, crowding over to make room for Sar. The enemies’ arrows couldn’t reach them here. Open a window and find their archers.
Sar complied. Josiah concentrated, refining their technique as he saw what worked. He discovered that the best time to strike was when an archer had his bow fully drawn, an instant before he released the arrow. A few extra pounds of pressure on each end could bend the bow until it snapped.
More wizards joined them. The foot fighters pressed down the road, grappling with Ramunnans on either side. As the rain of arrows lessened, the mounted fighters surged forward, their long spears giving them an advantage against the Ramunnan’s swords. The Ramunnans retreated before the Tevenarans, fighting for every inch they yielded.
Sar and Josiah pursued the fleeing archers from building to building. Josiah couldn’t figure out how arrows continued to fly, until he saw one of the disarmed archers duck into a building far down the street and emerge with an armful of intact bows that he distributed to his fellows.
A window showed stacks of bows inside, along with massive numbers of arrows, swords, shields, and spears. Josiah stared, despairing. Even if we get within range, we can’t destroy all those. We could exhaust ourselves breaking bows and there’d still be piles of them left.
Another Ramunnan dashed in, seized an armful of bows, and ran out. Josiah clenched his fists. The building was at the frustrating distance where they could see what was happening but couldn’t do anything about it. Can Sachiel blast the building down?
Sar zoomed the window outside the building and sent the viewpoint to hover above. The weapons are too far down the street to strike more than a glancing blow. By the time they get close enough, many hundreds of bows could be brought out.
Josiah agreed with Sar’s assessment. The foot fighters couldn’t clear the street until the rain of arrows let up. The wizards were spending almost all their energy blocking arrows. Once freed of that necessity, they could concentrate on disabling Ramunnan soldiers instead. And healing the wounded that lay scattered among the
dead.
All right. We burn it. Josiah led Sar down the narrow space between buildings until they reached the next street. They circled around the fighting until they were close enough for the Mother’s power to reach the weapon storehouse. He swept a hand to indicate the buildings around it. Find a fire, or a lantern, or even a flint and steel.
Sar sent the window diving into house after house. Soon Josiah spotted what he wanted. A group of Tevenarans clustered in a kitchen, devouring porridge from a kettle that bubbled over a fire, urgently discussing how they might best help the invading army. There. Scoop up a handful of coals.
Josiah wished he could send Nirre to the volunteers with a message about what they were doing. But he’d dispatched the eagle to Elkan with a report when they’d reached the city and were about to attack, and she hadn’t yet returned. He’d just have to hope they figured it out.
Sar made the tendril of light that marked the path of the Mother’s power thick and bright. The Tevenarans exclaimed in surprise and delight when they saw it. When the golden glow plunged into the fire and a ball of glowing embers floated out, they backed up to make room for it to pass. One ran to open the door. Another opened a cupboard and hefted a large jug. “Wizard! Do you need oil, too?”
“Yes, thank you!” Josiah said aloud, before he remembered the woman wouldn’t be able to hear him. Sar, get it.
The strain on his energy increased as Sar enveloped the jug in light, sent it drifting behind the fire to the armory, and opened the door to send them inside. At Josiah’s direction he pulled the stopper from the jug and poured oil liberally over the stacks of bows and arrows. They broke a dozen arrows into kindling, stacked bows around them like a campfire, soaked everything with oil, and dropped the coals in their midst. A gentle breeze set the wood burning, and a vigorous gust drove the flames higher. The seasoned wood of the bows made excellent fuel. A Ramunnan opened the door, gaped at the inferno raging within, and ran to inform the others of the disaster.
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