The Wizards' War

by Angela Holder

  “Peace, daughter. The Lord of Justice guides our steps. He will provide as he wishes.”

  “He’d better.” Nirel bit back her bitter words too late. Her shoulders slumped. “Forgive me, Elder.”

  “Confess your impiety when you next visit the shrine.” They’d set up the draperies and lamps and scrolls in a dark corner of the hold. “I’ll make your penance light. I know you’re under a great deal of strain. As we all are.”

  Shame washed over Nirel. Everyone else seemed far better able than she to accept whatever fate awaited them with quiet resignation. Fears had tormented her the whole voyage, growing ever deeper and darker as they crawled across the ocean. No amount of prayer or study of the Ordinances had been sufficient to banish them. Seeing one of the worst appear, real and deadly, was almost more than she could bear. “Yes, Elder.”

  “Go below and tell Lena and the other women. They should continue preparations to disembark, but also be prepared to remain on board if necessary.”

  “Yes, Elder.” Nirel cast a loathing glance at the distant ships as she headed for the ladder.

  Several hours later, while she was tucking the last of the supplies from her little infirmary into their boxes, a boy ran up to her, panting. “Elder Davon wants you at the bow, right away!”

  Dread gripped Nirel’s heart. Whatever the reason for his summons, it couldn’t be good.

  When she emerged into the sunlight, she saw they had nearly reached the mouth of the river. The buildings of Elathir blanketed the shore to their left. The dense cluster of Armada ships bobbed to their right, leaving only a narrow lane between them and the shore. The Faithful fleet threaded single file through the gap, their ship in the lead.

  Elder Davon handed her the window-glass. “Observe the city, and use your knowledge of your homeland’s culture to interpret what you see.”

  She accepted it reluctantly. “I don’t know much about Elathir. The whole time I spent there I was in prison.”

  “Nevertheless.” His voice was kind but implacable.

  She raised the long metal tube to her eye, peered through the small lens, and adjusted the length until the image sharpened. She searched until she found a recognizable landmark, the three long docks extending into the river. They were crowded with ships. Closer examination showed that although a number of them were Armada vessels, more were Tevenaran.

  Between the ships she glimpsed heavy traffic on the piers, wagons, horses and donkeys, and people on foot. The activity focused on the Armada ships. Crates and barrels and boxes were being transferred to their decks.

  She reported as much to Elder Davon. “They must intend to return to Ramunna.”

  “That is what I concluded, also. What else do you see?”

  She swept the window-glass inland and stiffened. “Watchers. The people in red cloaks. They’re everywhere.”

  Elder Davon didn’t reply. Nirel studied the scene, sweeping the glowing circle back and forth. When she observed a silent confrontation, the participants’ waving arms and forceful motions testifying to raised voices much too far away to hear, she became certain of her conclusion. “They’re in charge. They’re supervising the loading of the ships. None of the Ramunnans are leaving the dock area. The watchers won’t let them.”

  “I suspected that was the case. What else?”

  “I see a lot of damage. Crews are busy repairing it.” Nirel swept the window-glass through the maze of streets. “There’s the Mother’s Hall. People are going in and out. Tevenarans, mainly, although I see a few Armada uniforms.” She continued scanning the area. “A few blocks away there’s a big ornate tent, with a Ramunnan flag flying from its peak, green on gold.”

  “The reversed colors are the Matriarch’s personal emblem.”

  Nirel lowered the instrument to stare at him. “She’s here?”

  “It seems so. Can you tell me anything else?”

  She looked again, roaming from place to place. “The market is busy. Again, mostly Tevenarans. There seem to be a lot of people coming into the city on the main roads. I can’t see very well because of all the trees, but there’s what looks like a big camp with lots of tents on the northeast side. The shipyard is busy. Is that a Ramunnan ship in the dry dock, being repaired? And… wait. The bridge is gone. I know there used to be a bridge across the Tarath, but it’s not there now. I see wreckage where a big street leads down to the shore. A lot of people are there, working. Builders, probably, and laborers. I guess—”

  She froze. Stones floated from the rubble, surrounded by a golden glow, faint in the sunlight but still visible. They lodged at the peak of a stubby pier rising from the edge of the muddy water. Workers with trowels mortared them in place.

  Nirel fought to keep the window-glass steady despite her trembling hands. She examined the crowd of workers until she found the one she sought. A woman with a dog at her side stretched a hand toward the hovering rocks. Nirel couldn’t see the thread of gold light springing from her fingers, but she knew it was there.

  She lowered the window-glass with a curse, in Tevenaran so Davon wouldn’t realize how foul the word was. “The wizards are still there.”

  “You saw one?”

  “Working to rebuild the bridge.” She thought about what that must mean. “They’d never spend their energy on something like that unless the more important things like healing people were already taken care of. So that means there must be a lot more of them working in the Mother’s Hall.” She stared at the stone rectangle presiding over the peaceful, busy city. “Which means they won. The wizards defeated the Armada. They’re in control of Elathir, and all of Tevenar.” Her voice rose. “We can’t go there! We’ll be in danger from the Lady’s power.”

  “In Ramunna they respected our right to refuse their healing. Will that change here?”

  “No, but that only applies to adults. Not to children they consider too young to decide for themselves, if they’re in a lot of pain or at risk of dying.” Nirel thought about the patients she’d been treating. “Shura is very weak, and her diarrhea isn’t getting any better. They’d probably insist on healing her. Brill, too; he screams every time you touch his foot, even though it’s been weeks since he broke it.” Nirel suspected the hot red swelling meant it had become infected. Nalini would have dosed him with sweet vitriol and amputated it. She’d wondered, queasy at the thought, if she’d have the courage to do so. “And that’s just the ones on this ship.”

  “We’ll move them to another vessel. The rest of the fleet can remain at sea, but I must dock and speak with their leader. If they were willing to treat with the Matriarch, as it seems they have, perhaps they can be persuaded to bargain with us as well.”

  Dozens of arguments sprang to Nirel’s mind, but she forced herself not to voice them. They really didn’t have any other choice. The vast ocean lay between them and any other source of aid. Elder Davon wouldn’t try to deal with the wizards unless he was confident he could get what he wanted from them. Undoubtedly he’d anticipated this possibility and planned for it.

  The thought comforted her. “Yes, Elder. Do you want me to prepare the children to be transferred? There are a few others who might be in danger as well. And some adults who shouldn’t be exposed to temptation. Not everyone’s faith is as strong as Mila’s.”

  “A good thought. But others can carry out those tasks. I want you to stay by my side. Despite your best efforts, my fluency in Tevenaran is still lacking. I need you to clarify any nuances of your native tongue I might miss.”

  “Yes, Elder.” Actually, Davon had picked up the language as quickly as she could teach him, but she wasn’t about to argue. At last he again needed her skills for an important, exciting task. She was eager to participate in the negotiations, even if only as translator.

  As their ship changed course to sail upriver, Davon sent runners scurrying over the ship. A boatful of the sick and injured was dispatched to the next ship back. Signal flags carried orders to the captains of the rest of the fleet. They
would continue up the coast until they were well clear of the Armada, then anchor and wait for further instructions.

  As their ship approached the dock, a boat with many rowers came to meet them. The master dockworker in charge spoke to Elder Davon. When they reached an agreement, Faithful sailors tossed ropes to the boat and it towed them to one of the few empty berths.

  Nirel clung to Davon’s heels as he strode across the plank. Master Elkan waited for them, Tobi at his side, a dozen watchers at his back. A little behind him stood Josiah, his hand on Sar’s withers.

  Nirel sucked in a deep breath and released it with a shudder. Josiah was alive. She hadn’t realized just how much she’d feared he was dead. Her heart thudded in relief.

  She shouldn’t care. He was one of the Lady’s servants. There could never be anything between them. If he’d died, it would have been because she’d told the Matriarch the lie that had put him and the rest of the wizards in danger.

  And yet she was very glad he’d survived.

  Elkan eyed Elder Davon coldly. “Vigorre told us you’d be coming.”

  “Yoran said he’d left the Purifiers. How is the young Keeper?”

  “Quite well.” Elkan’s voice didn’t soften. “I understand we have you to thank for the attack that drove us from our homes and nearly destroyed our country. We’re still counting the dead, but it’s a very large number. I have no desire to listen to anything you have to say.”

  Davon spread his hands. “I understand.”

  “So I suggest you turn around, go back aboard your ship, and sail out of Tevenar. The waters between the boundary stones are closed to everyone from Ravanetha. If necessary, we will defend our borders with the same weapons we used to defeat the Armada.”

  Davon stepped forward and lowered his voice. “The threat would be more convincing if I did not know you serve the Lady of Mercy. Will she approve if you turn your weapons against ships full of women and children? Innocents who took no part in any plan to harm you? Who are weary from their long journey, with insufficient food and water to sustain them for more than a few days?”

  Elkan laughed without humor. “The Mother’s nature encompasses justice as well as mercy. But you’re at least partially right. For the sake of those you dragged from their homes, I’ll offer you the same terms I gave the Matriarch. You may dock for as long as it takes to resupply your ships. You may deal with our merchants to purchase food and water, and I’ll make sure they charge you reasonable prices. As soon as that is accomplished, you’ll leave Tevenar and never return.”

  “We cannot go back to Ramunna. Marvanna controls it now. They would have expelled us by force had we not fled first. They will turn us away with fire and sword if we try to return.”

  “That’s not my concern. You gambled that we would fall to the Armada, and you lost. Where you go now is up to you. I don’t care, as long as it’s not within the borders of Tevenar.”

  Davon looked at him keenly. “These boundary stones you speak of. We noted the one south of here when we passed. There’s another like it to the north?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You do not claim the portion of the coast outside those boundaries?”

  For the first time Elkan looked uncertain. “No.”

  “Nor the islands in the archipelago to the south?”

  “They’re not part of Tevenar.”

  “And how far inland does your country extend? Nirel tells me no Tevenarans dwell beyond the range of mountains where she lived as a child. She says the western portion of this continent is uninhabited.”

  Elkan shifted his gaze to Nirel. She clenched her fists and met his eyes boldly. After a moment he grimaced and turned back to Davon. “That’s correct.”

  “You will not oppose us if we choose some small portion of a region not under your jurisdiction to settle?”

  Elkan looked at the ship, and past it. Nirel suspected he was evaluating the size of the Faithful fleet that was visible past the mouth of the river. Finally he turned back to Davon. “As long as you stay far away from where our people live. But I warn you, carving a new settlement out of the wilderness is a monumental task. I’m not sure it’s possible without the Mother’s power. Our records tell of a group of Faithful who traveled here with our founders. Most of them died of disease or starvation before they could establish a viable community.”

  Elder Davon spread his hands. “I’m sure your estimation of the difficulties involved is accurate. Nevertheless, we are now committed to that course. In anticipation that it might become necessary, we stocked our ships with seeds and tools. However, we would be willing to pay handsomely to purchase livestock for breeding purposes. Also to hire knowledgeable Tevenarans to instruct us in the skills needed to become self-sufficient. In due time, both our peoples could benefit from regular trade between us.”

  “Livestock, yes. Speak to the Herders’ Guild. The rest, no. No one from Tevenar is allowed to leave. You’ll have to make do with whatever you can learn in the short time you’re here. Some of the guilds might be willing to sell you copies of their lore, if you offer a high enough price.”

  Davon inclined his head. “Very well. We will abide by your decrees. The Lord of Justice will hold you accountable for the lives lost as a result.”

  If his words stung, Elkan gave no sign. “You and your people may move freely around Elathir to conduct your business. Those suffering from the stress of the voyage may come ashore. Few residences are available, with the city so full of people, but you may contract for temporary lodgings if you can find them.” His eyes narrowed. “Any of your people who wish may seek healing or whatever other help they might need from the Wizards’ Guild.”

  Nirel winced at the barbed politeness of his tone. Elder Davon’s voice remained bland. “Thank you for your consideration. I believe that concludes our discussion? With your permission, my subordinates and I will begin making arrangements to purchase what we need.”

  “Go ahead. My apprentice will be your guide. Josiah, show them to the market and the various guild headquarters and wherever else they need to go.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Come back to the Hall in time for the evening meal.” Elkan waved to dismiss the watchers and strode away.

  Josiah shot Nirel a wary look as he turned to Elder Davon. “Where would you like to go first?”

  “Where we might find merchants capable of delivering large quantities of food to our ships,” Davon told him.

  “The Traders’ Guild, then,” Josiah said. He waited while Davon summoned a group of Elders and Faithful businessmen from the ship. When all had made their way across the plank, Josiah led them down the dock and onto a busy street. “This way. It’s not far. Their headquarters are midway between the dock and the market. I have to warn you, there might not be much food available to buy. The only stores we had were what the Matriarch sent in payment for us going to Ramunna, and the Ramunnans have bought a lot of that back. It will be another month or two before this year’s harvest starts coming to market.”

  “I’m sure we’ll be able to come to a suitable arrangement,” Elder Davon assured him.

  Nirel hoped he was right. Faithful traders were the best in the world. Their skills put Ozor’s to shame. But you couldn’t buy what didn’t exist, no matter how clever and persuasive your bargaining.

  Josiah led them to a large, nondescript building. Inside, Elder Davon and the others were soon deep in conversation with a number of master traders. Nirel hung back. Davon was having no trouble conversing in Tevenaran, so she wasn’t really needed.

  Josiah cleared his throat. “You seem to be doing all right.”

  She raised her chin. “Elder Davon has taken me into his household. He considers me his daughter.”

  He looked away. “That was a pretty nasty thing you did. Telling the Matriarch we were Marvannan agents and that we’d lied about the baby.”

  She swallowed. “I had no choice. It was the only way to make her send the Armada against Tev
enar.”

  “Look how that turned out.” Josiah’s voice was hard. “Thousands of people dead, for nothing. Now your precious Faithful are stuck without a home. You would have been better off if you’d never schemed to take Tevenar for yourselves.”

  Nirel clenched her fists. “No, we wouldn’t. Anything is better than continuing to endure the way they treated us in Ramunna. We’re still going to have our own country. It’s just going to be a little harder than we thought.”

  “A little? You haven’t read the First History, have you? Even with the Mother’s power the first few years after people came to Tevenar were rough. Farming is different here than in Ravanetha. The weather is colder and wetter. People who’re hungry and cold get sick easily, especially children. How many people are going to die so you can walk around behind Davon with your head down without people calling you names?”

  “Whatever it takes will be worth it,” she said stiffly.

  He shook his head. “And it’s not just the Faithful who’re going to suffer because of what you did. Elkan’s decided to reinstitute the Law of Isolation. Which means Ramunna and the rest of Ravanetha aren’t going to get the Mother’s power after all. You saw how many lives we saved while we were there. You saw how desperate people were for our help. Now they’ll never get it.”

  “Good.” She glared at him. “They won’t be corrupted by the Lady’s evil.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Oh, come on. I know that’s what they say, but you can’t really believe it. Did it corrupt you, when Elkan—”

  “Hush!” She looked frantically around, but no one was paying attention to them. “Please, you can’t ever tell anyone about that.”

  “What, would you get in trouble?” He huffed. “Serve you right.”

  “I would be cast out of the Faithful. It’s the one thing that can’t be forgiven.”