Elkan shook his head, patted Tobi, and headed toward the building. Meira winced, but he was appropriately cautious, approaching slowly and carefully. He used a window to check each shell in turn, making sure all the fuses were well clear of the shells and completely extinguished. Only then did he enter. He studied the shells for a moment, then used the Mother’s power to lift one and float it out the door. Meira wished there were some way she could suggest they keep the shells and find a way to transport them safely. She could think of a half-dozen ways to turn them against the Ramunnans.
Tobi jerked her head up. Elkan stiffened and sent a window sweeping the surrounding area. It zoomed in on the Ramunnans, who were cautiously making their way back toward the building.
“Where are the other wizards?” Meira demanded. The boy and his wolf pulled their window’s viewpoint back. A dozen mounted fighters cantered toward the building, wizards perched behind them, but the Ramunnans would reach it long before they did.
“Go back to the Ramunnans.” Meira quickened her steps to keep up with the young wizard’s long stride. “Move in close.”
He obeyed. The Ramunnans were wary as they approached the building. None were speaking. From the confident way they’d handled the shells, she suspected these were some of the Secrets officers Tenorran had mentioned, with many years of experience working with blasting powder. The grim, determined expressions on their faces told her they understood exactly how much danger they faced.
She’d felt that same grim determination the time a charge in the mine shaft had failed to explode. After waiting more than an hour past when it should have detonated, Meira had screwed up her courage and walked down the dim tunnel, pulse hammering in her ears, knowing that at any moment the charge might go off and shatter her along with the rocks. She’d found the place where the flame had gone out, detached the half-burnt fuse from the charge, laid a new one and lit it, then walked out of the mine as steadily as always. But only when she’d finally felt and heard the blast had the fear left her.
One of the Ramunnans hung back, his steps dragging until he fell to the rear of the group. But when the others stopped to study the building through narrowed eyes, he clenched his fists, raised his chin, and strode forward. Meira caught her breath, a shock of recognition jolting through her.
It was Tenorran.
* * *
Tenorran took a deep breath. “Commander Sarrellim, I volunteer to go inside and identify the problem.”
Sarrellim eyed him up and down. “That’s a dangerous task, Lieutenant. I’d rather someone with more experience handle it.”
It would be so easy to defer to the commander’s decision. But Tenorran was sick of the suspicion and loathing with which his fellow officers regarded him. He had to demonstrate his loyalty. Merely making the offer wasn’t enough. Even risking his life might not be sufficient. Only his actual death in Ramunna’s service would prove he remained true.
“Sir, when he gave me this assignment, Commodore Benarre reminded me that I owe Ramunna a debt.” He touched his wrist.
Sarrellim’s expression softened. “In that case, Lieutenant, the task is yours.” He stepped back, gesturing toward the door.
Tenorran swallowed hard and squared his shoulders. But before he could take a step, the others gasped and jerked back, pointing with a mix of muffled curses and wondering exclamations. A cloud of golden light emerged from the door of the building. In its midst floated one of the explosive shells. The iron sphere settled gently onto a patch of grass beside the street, and the light winked out.
Tenorran gestured urgently for silence. “There’s a wizard in there,” he hissed. “Be quiet and stay out of sight.” Without waiting for permission he slipped up to the building and peered around the edge of the door.
Across the room, a familiar tall figure labored with his back to the door, his hand pressed into the back of the mountain cat at his side. Golden light spilled from his hand and surrounded another shell, which rose and drifted toward Tenorran.
He jerked back. As silently as he could he hurried to join the others, who’d taken cover in a hidden spot between the next two buildings.
Sarrellim frowned at him. “Well?”
Tenorran forced out the words. “I was right. And I recognize him. It’s their leader, Master Elkan.”
Sarrellim’s eyes widened. “He’s alone?”
“Yes.” Tenorran sucked in a deep breath. He hated what he must say. The wizard had never been anything but kind and generous to him. But he had no choice. This was his chance to win the war for Ramunna. If he didn’t seize it, he really would be a traitor. “If we kill him, it will cripple their resistance. He holds them together, drives and inspires them. Without him they’ll be demoralized. They’ll lose their will to fight.”
“They don’t have anyone who can take his place?” Sarrellim asked skeptically.
“Master Edniel will try, but she’s not a wizard. Believe me, sir, the key to our victory just fell into our hands.”
“It won’t be easy.” Sarrellim fingered his sword hilt. “We’ll never get close enough before he and that beast of his turn their power against us. I’ve heard it can kill in an instant from a thousand feet away. Even if we all rush him at once we probably won’t get through.”
“I can.” He knew what to say to catch and hold Elkan’s attention. All he needed to do was get close. “Give me one of the shells and three minutes worth of fuse.”
Sarrellim looked at Tenorran with new respect. “Are you sure?”
“It’s my duty.” Numb calm blanketed Tenorran, smothering the terror that pulsed in his gut. He’d fled from death as long as he could, but it had finally caught him.
“So it is.” Sarrellim rested a hand on Tenorran’s shoulder for a moment, then stepped back. “How are you going to conceal it?”
“I think my pack will work, if we empty out some of my gear.”
Sarrellim and the others helped him. Shells continued to float out the door at intervals, showing that Elkan remained unaware of their presence.
Soon shell and fuse were tucked into the pack he wore on his back and his gear distributed in a way that gave the fuse air while holding its length away from the thin iron shell. Elkan wouldn’t notice anything amiss until far too late.
Sarrellim nodded to Tenorran. “I’ll give the Matriarch a full report of your actions, Lieutenant Fovarre.”
“Thank you.” Maybe his mother would finally be proud of him.
He turned his back. Sarrellim lit the end of the fuse and tucked it into the pack. He and Tenorran saluted each other. The commander and the others retreated down the street. Tenorran walked to the door of the building, silently counting down the seconds.
Tenorran stepped through the door. “Master Elkan,” he called.
Elkan swiveled to face him. His hand was pressed tight to Tobi’s back. “Tenorran? What are you—” His gaze took in Tenorran’s Armada uniform.
Tenorran spread his hands. “I told Commodore Benarre your forces were too strong for us to defeat and we should negotiate a truce. He refused, but now that he’s seen for himself I was right, I think he’ll be willing. I can take you to him.” He took a step forward. The shell held less Secret than they used to fire the weapons, and his body would block some of the force of the blast. He needed to get close to be sure the explosion would do its job.
Elkan didn’t move. “I don’t need to negotiate a truce. We’re winning. By nightfall Elathir will be ours. You and your countrymen will be aboard your ships, retreating, if you’re wise. Our prisoners, if you’re not.”
Tenorran took two more steps. A minute and a half had passed. “Maybe, but at what cost? Benarre is sending the bulk of our strength against one column at a time. They’ve probably already seized one of your weapons, and they’ll have another soon.”
The wizard’s eyebrows rose. “A clever strategy.”
Good. Tenorran had surprised him. Now to keep him distracted just a little longer. He walked forward w
hile he talked. “How many people will die if you keep fighting, even if you do defeat us in the end? How many wizards? What about your apprentice, Josiah, and that donkey of his? Will they survive? And Master Meira, I expect she’s with you. Do you want to get her killed?”
Elkan’s expression didn’t change, but his skin paled and his breath quickened. A jolt of bitterly amused understanding hit Tenorran. So that’s how it was. Tenorran had been immune to Meira’s seduction, but Elkan hadn’t.
Ruthlessly he used his new knowledge. “You can still save her. Let me take you to the Mother’s Hall. Benarre is ready to negotiate.”
Elkan’s hand tightened, clutching a fold of Tobi’s skin. “How do I know this isn’t a trap? If I go with you, what assurance do I have that Benarre won’t lock me up or kill me?”
Tenorran took one more step, which brought him within arm’s reach of Elkan. “I swear he won’t harm you.”
“You expect me to trust your word after you broke the oath you swore in the Mother’s name? You tried to kill my apprentice. I doubt you’d hesitate to kill me.”
The words stung, even though they were true. “This is different. I broke my parole to serve Ramunna. I can best serve Ramunna by keeping this promise.” Tenorran extended his hand. Five seconds. Was he close enough?
His back prickled. The wizard looked at him, considering. Four seconds. Three…
Elkan reached to clasp his hand. Tenorran’s fingers clamped around Elkan’s and he yanked himself against the wizard’s body.
The world exploded into white-hot light and deafening sound.
Thirty-Six
Josiah surveyed the little sailboat critically. It might hold two people, if they crowded in tight. “I guess it will do, if there’s nothing better.”
Master Omir scowled at him. “We had no warning when the Ramunnans confiscated our boats. I only kept them from finding this one because I had it in for repairs, and it was small enough to throw a tarp over.”
Josiah nodded acknowledgement to the sailor as they each lifted one end of the tiny craft and carried it out of the workshop. “I wonder why they did that?”
Master Omir nodded across the river at the docks. “It was right after that ship of theirs blew up. I think they were afraid we’d sneak out to where they anchored the others and do the same.”
“That makes sense.” They carried the boat to the edge of the river where the Tevenaran fighters were gathered around the two weapons. A lot of the volunteers who’d stayed in Elathir had joined them. They’d brought out food, which everyone was eagerly devouring.
Josiah studied the far shore, counting the plumes of smoke drifting skyward. “That’s all eight.” The attack was going forward as planned. Maybe Elkan didn’t need the fighters from this side of the river, but it couldn’t hurt to give him greater numbers. “Zenta, still no reply from Master Bransa?”
The journeyman scowled at the magpie on her wrist. “Sassy keeps dropping the notes, but if anyone picks one up, they just read it and tuck it away. She hasn’t seen anyone matching the description you gave.”
“Smash it.” Josiah couldn’t figure out why the sailors on Master Bransa’s ship weren’t responding. Even if she wasn’t there, they should be eager to help. “I’m going to have to go over there myself. Master Bransa knows me, and I think most of her crew saw me when I was working with her. They’ll trust me.”
“Sorry,” Zenta said, and headed toward where the food was being distributed.
Josiah wanted to follow, but his mission was too urgent. He walked over to where Sar was grazing. I found a boat, but it’s too small to hold you. Master Omir’s agreed to sail me to Master Bransa’s ship.
Sar lifted his head to look where Josiah was pointing. Much too small. He butted his head into Josiah’s side. Be careful, and hurry back.
I will. Sar’s acceptance eased Josiah’s mind. If the donkey wasn’t trying to argue him out of such a long separation in such dangerous circumstances, he must agree that the venture was worth the risk. He fondled Sar’s ears. You be careful, too.
I always am. Sar nudged him affectionately, then dropped his head and tore up another mouthful of grass.
Josiah swallowed hard and returned to where Master Omir had the boat rigged and ready to launch. He helped push it into the water and climbed aboard. Just as they were about to set out, a volunteer ran up with a sack and thrust it into Josiah’s hands. While Master Omir expertly adjusted the single triangular sail, Josiah opened the sack to find several loaves of bread, a round cheese, and an assortment of fruit. As the gentle breeze pushed them across the river, he and Omir shared the food.
A full stomach did wonders for Josiah’s mood. He was more impatient than ever to contribute to the battle that continued to pepper the air with weapon fire and stain the sky with smoke.
As they approached the docks, Josiah nervously studied the ship he’d picked out. Maybe from so far away he’d mistaken some other ship for Master Bransa’s. Tevenarans didn’t name their ships the way Ramunnans did, so there was nothing painted on the hull to make the identification certain. But he was sure he recognized the distinct way the ship was shaped. His brother Yered, who was a journeyman shipbuilder, had told him that his craft prided itself on never repeating a design.
Yered and his wife Kefira had volunteered to stay behind in Elathir. Josiah hoped they were all right. As soon as the battle was over he’d have to check on them.
They pulled alongside the ship. Master Omir waved to a woman on deck and called, “Let down a ladder.”
She leaned over the rail. “I can’t. Master Bransa’s orders.”
Josiah stood up, setting the boat rocking wildly. He grabbed the mast. “I know Master Bransa. Let me talk to her.”
“She’s ashore.” The woman frowned at them. “Master Docham said she was very emphatic that we let no one on board. Anyone could be a Ramunnan spy.”
Master Omir laughed. “Do I look like a Ramunnan spy, journeyman? I’m a member of the Sailors’ Guild just like you. And Josiah’s a wizard.”
The sailor hesitated. “If he can actually show us the Mother’s power…”
Josiah scowled. “My familiar’s a donkey. There wasn’t room for him on the boat.”
“A likely excuse.” A heavyset man leaned over the rail, waving the journeyman away. “I’m Master Docham Sailorkin Sailor, first mate of this ship. Captain Bransa left me in charge. We’ve had a trained starling fluttering around the ship all morning, pretending to be a familiar and dropping fake messages, but I know better than to fall for Ramunnan tricks.”
“It’s not a trick. Sassy really is a familiar.” That would be a clever deception, though. Even ordinary magpies were smart; you probably could train one.
Josiah forced his mind back to the matter at hand. “I was aboard your ship once, about three weeks ago. I helped you steal the blasting powder from the Ramunnan ship. Don’t you remember me?”
Docham squinted at Josiah. “It was dark. You could be that boy, but I can’t be sure.”
“Smash it, Docham, we’re not Ramunnans. Every one of them’s got an accent so thick you can barely understand what they’re saying.” Omir glared up at Docham.
“You could be Tevenaran collaborators. Ramunnan gold talks louder every day.”
Omir rolled his eyes. “Forget it. We’ll go to one of the other ships. Their captains must have more sense than you.” He glanced at Josiah for approval.
Josiah shrugged and nodded. Any Tevenaran captain should be willing to ferry the fighters across. He didn’t know why Docham was so suspicious. “You’ll be sorry. Master Bransa’s going to be furious when she finds out you wouldn’t help us.”
Docham glanced down the dock to where other Tevenaran ships bobbed. “All right,” he said with bad grace. “Come aboard and tell me what you want. I’ll send a messenger to try and find Bransa.”
Omir grinned and winked at Josiah. After a long wait, a rope ladder snaked down the side of the ship. “Go on, boy. I’ll
stay with my ship, small as it is.”
Josiah clambered up the ladder. Docham was waiting for him, hands on his hips. “Start explaining. Beginning with why an apprentice is giving orders to masters.”
Josiah drew himself up to his full height, only an inch or so shorter than Docham. “I’m Josiah Potterkin Wizard. My master is Elkan Farmerkin Wizard, who Guildmaster Hanion put in charge of fighting the Ramunnans. He’s leading the attack out there right now.” He gestured toward the pillars of smoke rising from various points across the city and put all the persuasiveness he could into his voice. “There are more than five hundred fighters on the north side of the river who could join him if we had a way across. This ship could easily carry a hundred or more at a time. With only a couple hours of work you could help win this war for Tevenar. Elkan will make sure you’re generously rewarded.”
Docham studied him, frowning. He turned and looked at the city, where the smoke and intermittent rumbles were still the only evidence that a battle was raging. His gaze lingered on the Mother’s Hall. Then he turned and looked out to sea, where the cluster of Armada ships was visible near the horizon. He moved on to study the northern shore and the wreckage of the bridge, and completed his revolution to face Josiah again. “There’s nowhere to dock on that side. And I can’t pull in too close, not with all that debris from the bridge in the water.”
“You’ve got small boats, right?” Josiah pointed at the rear of the ship where a pretty big boat was clearly visible on the deck. “Bigger than our sailboat, I mean. We can bring people out in them.”
Docham tilted his head. “It would be possible,” he allowed. His eyes raked Josiah up and down in a way that made him feel distinctly uncomfortable. Finally Docham nodded decisively. “All right. Just stay out of the crew’s way.”
“Thank you!” Josiah ran to lean over the rail and shout the good news to Omir. “Go tell them to get ready. We’ll be right behind you.”
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