The Wizards' War

by Angela Holder

  Elkan was proud of how steady she kept her voice. “It’s gone, nugget.”

  “Will it come back?”

  “No, nugget, it won’t come back. It got burned up. Remember when Dobon dropped his stuffed dog in the fire? Like that.”

  Ravid’s brow creased. “Does it hurt?”

  Meira swallowed. “It did, but not anymore. Master Elkan and Tobi used the Mother’s power to heal it.”

  He frowned, then swiveled to glare accusingly at Elkan. “You didn’t fix it right.”

  Elkan nodded, his heart heavy. “I know. I’m sorry. We did the best we could.”

  Ravid gave a little huff, then turned back to his mother. He held up his hands, fingers spread. “Will my hand get burned up?”

  “No. That’s why I don’t let you put wood on the fire or touch the pots when Zagan takes them off. So your hands will be safe.”

  He made a face. His gaze returned to her stump. Meira said, “It’s all right. You can touch it.”

  Cautiously at first, then with more confidence, Ravid’s fingers poked and prodded the scar tissue. When he was satisfied, he patted her wrist gently. “All better.”

  “Yes, nugget,” Meira whispered.

  Ravid scrambled into her lap. “Can we go home now?”

  She stroked his hair with her left hand, hesitating. Finally, she said, “We’re going to have a new home soon. I’m a guildmaster now, so we’re going to live in Elathir. Right now the city is very crowded, so Master Elkan has been letting me sleep in his room. You can stay with me there for a while. But pretty soon we’ll go look for a house to live in. Would you like to help me pick out a nice one? You can even have your very own room if you want.”

  Ravid perked up. “Can I have a puppy? You said there wasn’t room for a puppy in a tent, only a house.”

  She laughed. “Maybe, after a while. We’ll make sure to choose one with a yard for you and a puppy to play in.”

  He bounced eagerly. “I want a black puppy with white paws, just like Bara’s.”

  “We’ll see. Right now it’s time for you to settle down and start getting ready for bed.”

  “I’m not tired,” he insisted, sitting up straight and opening his eyes very wide.

  “Of course not,” Meira agreed with a smile. “I guess you don’t want a bedtime story, then.”

  “I want a story! Tell me The Lost Donkey.”

  Meira sighed with mock reluctance. “All right. Dobon, would you like to listen, too?”

  Zagan’s son hurried over to sit beside her. Meira launched into the tale. Elkan didn’t recognize it, but clearly it was a favorite of both boys. They listened raptly as Meira exaggerated the voices of the different characters, first high and squeaky, then low and rumbly, then a harsh, raspy growl.

  Elkan unfolded from the floor, stretched stiff muscles, and sank onto the other couch. Ravid could make do with a pallet of blankets tonight. Tomorrow he’d have Josiah bring a cot up from the basement. And he’d start asking around about houses suitable for a guildmaster that might be available. Maybe Hadara would be willing to speak to Hanion about the importance of paying the Blasters’ Guild a generous sum for their part in the defense, without telling him Elkan had asked her to.

  A hand fell on his arm. He turned to find Zagan leaning toward him, a hostile look on his face. The master cook kept his voice soft. “I can’t say I’m surprised. But I want you to know that I care about Meira and Ravid very much. I expect you to treat them well. If you do anything to hurt either one of them, I will intervene.”

  Elkan cleared his throat. “I would never dream of it.”

  “See that you don’t.” Zagan sat back, rubbing his forehead. “What happened?”

  “She saved our lives.” Elkan recounted the events, careful not to let his voice rise loud enough to disturb Meira and the boys. Zagan listened, both pain and pride in his expression. Elkan understood that mix of emotions far too well.

  When Elkan finished, Zagan shook his head. “She’s always been so careful with the blasting powder, but I feared something like this would happen eventually. There’s so much destruction in that harmless-looking gray dust. I don’t suppose there’s any chance of persuading her to stop using it?”

  Privately Elkan felt much the same way, but he shook his head. “None.”

  Zagan sighed. “I didn’t think so.”

  Both boys erupted into gales of laughter as Meira reached the end of her story. She laughed with them, then shook a stern finger. “Now it really is time for bed. Zagan, do you and Dobon have a place for the night?”

  “The Cooks’ Guild has spots available in the guild house. They need me for the communal meals in the plaza. Is there some sort of child care available, or do you want to resume our half day schedule?”

  “Half days,” Meira said firmly. “The work’s not urgent enough anymore to take me away from Ravid all day.” She glanced at Elkan, then back at Zagan. “I’ll be happy to exchange with you as long as you’re in Elathir. Do you plan to stay here or go back to Shalinthan eventually?”

  “Back home. You don’t really need a cook in the Blasters’ Guild, and I’d much rather mix up delicious dishes than exploding concoctions. Besides, I miss my restaurant. The folks in Shalinthan will enjoy all the new recipes I’ve picked up. I only plan to stay until things here calm down and we don’t have to feed half of Tevenar every night.”

  “We’ll miss you, but I understand.” She rose, shifting Ravid to her hip. “I suppose I’ll take mornings again. Where would you like to meet to drop Dobon off? I could come by the plaza right after breakfast.”

  “That would be f—”

  The door of the office swung open. Hanion’s voice rang out. “—how do you think he’ll react if—”

  The Guildmaster stopped, his gaze sweeping around the office. It halted on Elkan. “I didn’t expect to find anyone here.”

  Elkan scrambled to his feet, his face hot. “We needed a quiet spot.” He tried to keep his tone matter-of-fact, not defensive. “Meira’s son was upset.”

  “Hmm.” Hanion managed to convey a world of judgement with the sound.

  Elkan was acutely conscious of the soup stains on the couch, but he didn’t look at them. Maybe Hanion wouldn’t notice. “We were just leaving.”

  “Good.” Hanion pushed the door wider. “Adrel and I have things to discuss in private.”

  Elkan went cold all over as his father followed Hanion into the room. He nodded to him, put his hand on Meira’s shoulder, and urged her toward the door. “We’ll leave you two alone, then.”

  Hanion moved to take his seat behind the desk. He paused, looking with distaste at the objects scattered across its surface. His eyes traveled to the even messier table between the couches. “Be sure to take your things with you.”

  “Of course.” Elkan stooped to gather the dirty bowls, spoons, and cups onto the tray, forcing himself not to rush. He moved to the desk and retrieved the items there. He wiped Dobon’s last drawing from the slate and returned it to its drawer.

  Meira approached Adrel with a determined smile. She set Ravid down and extended her left hand. “Good evening, Master Adrel. I don’t know if you remember, but we met briefly in Korisan. I’m Master Meira Smithkin Mine—” She blinked. “I mean, Blaster.”

  Adrel accepted her handclasp, a bit awkwardly as his right hand met her left. “How could I forget such a lovely face?” He glanced at Elkan with far too much perception.

  In an ominous tone, Hanion said, “Blaster?”

  Elkan steeled himself and turned to face him. “I called a meeting of the Council yesterday. They approved the creation of the Blasters’ Guild and appointed Meira as guildmaster.”

  Hanion’s voice was low but dangerous. “I don’t understand. The majority of Tevenar’s guildmasters either stayed in Korisan or were traveling with me yesterday. You couldn’t have held a legitimate council meeting.”

  “More than a third of the guildmasters were present. The other guilds were repr
esented by the most senior masters available. Traditionally that’s been considered sufficient to conduct official business. There are precedents in the Fourth and Seventh Histories.”

  “Those meetings were called by the Guildmaster of the Wizards’ Guild. Not by someone with no real authority claiming to act in his name.”

  Elkan’s heart thudded. He’d hoped to avoid this confrontation, but Hanion had forced it, and he wasn’t going to back down. “I led Tevenar to victory against the invaders in your name. The people who fought under my command considered that authority enough.” He took a step forward and set the tray down on the desk. “You know as well as I do how many of the master wizards that includes.”

  Tobi pressed against his side. She didn’t show her teeth, but her yellow eyes fixed on Hanion, unblinking. From the way the Guildmaster’s face reddened, Elkan knew he’d made his point. Only a few of the oldest wizards had stayed behind in Korisan.

  “The fighting is over, Master Elkan. Your assistance was invaluable, but it’s no longer needed. I’m ready and able to take full control of the guild again. The masters had their opportunity to decide between us, and they chose me.”

  Elkan put his hand on Tobi’s head. “Would they make the same choice today, I wonder?”

  Hanion caught his breath. “Is that a threat?”

  “Of course not. Tobi and I would never threaten another wizard.” Elkan finally identified the absence that had been nagging at his awareness. “Where’s Mavke?”

  “Asleep in our room. We’ve had a long day, and he was tired.” He gestured stiffly at the door. “So am I. Please leave so my guest and I can finish our business and retire for the night.”

  Mavke’s absence could be perfectly innocent. Or it could mean Hanion intended to say things to Adrel he didn’t want his familiar to hear. “Of course.” Elkan inclined his head. “Good-night, Guildmaster. Good-night, Father.” He picked up the tray and headed toward the door.

  “Good-night, son,” Adrel said.

  Elkan paused. “Oh, by the way, Fibor’s fine. He was wounded pretty seriously, but a wizard healed him.”

  “Thank you for letting me know.” Adrel’s voice was courteously emotionless.

  “Uncle Nicham and Gilom escaped without injury. Their group of archers wiped out more than a hundred Ramunnans who were about to overwhelm the sixth column.”

  “I’m sure Nicham will never let me hear the end of it.”

  “You might ask him how the wizards guarded our archers from the Ramunnans’ arrows. You might ask Fibor—” Elkan clamped his mouth shut before any more words could escape.

  “They’ll be eager to tell me, I expect.” Adrel turned. “Good-night, Master Meira. My condolences on the loss of your hand. I know my son did everything in his power to restore it.”

  Blind fury welled up in Elkan. He took a step toward his father, but Meira stopped him with a light touch of her forearm. Her voice was pleasant, her smile guileless. “Elkan and Tobi saved my life. I’m eternally grateful to them, and to the Mother for granting them her power. Good-night.”

  She scooped up Ravid and strode out the door. Elkan followed, fixing his eyes on her back so he wouldn’t have to look at his father or Hanion. The sight was infinitely more pleasant, but he was so angry he barely noticed.

  “How dare he?” he burst out as soon as the door swung shut behind them. “I’m used to his contempt, but to bring you into it—”

  “Shh. It bothered you more than me. He’s not my parent.”

  Elkan twisted his fingers in his hair. “And he’s teamed up with Hanion. Smash it, what are the two of them talking about in there?”

  “You, obviously.” Meira emerged into the main Hall and headed for the stairs that led up to Elkan’s quarters. “Hanion’s getting his advice on how to keep you from taking his position.”

  “I wouldn’t want his position if he’d fulfill its responsibilities adequately. But I can’t let him destroy Tevenar with his cowardice. The Matriarch is camped down the street, for the Mother’s sake! She’ll take his measure within five minutes of their first meeting and have him doing exactly what she wants within an hour.” His blood ran cold as he thought about how true that was, and what the ramifications might be. “By the time she sails for Ramunna, she’ll have persuaded him to put wizards aboard every Armada ship. Even if all the Mother lets them do is defend the ships against Marvannan attacks, it will be enough to give her an overwhelming advantage.”

  “Would that be so bad? The Marvannans did invade her country.”

  He thought about it as they climbed the stairs. “It would set a precedent. Next she’d want wizards to help with the blockade. For Ramunna’s defense, she’d claim. It’s a small step from that to attacking Marvanna itself. The wizards wouldn’t be able to leave the ships if they sailed straight from a defensive position to an offensive one without landing. And the Mother wouldn’t forbid them to defend themselves, even if that meant helping an invasion succeed.”

  Meira grimaced, but again she said, “Would that be so bad? Marvanna is controlled by the Purifiers. If the Matriarch overthrew them, wizards would be able to serve the people there. It might be the only way they could in our lifetime.”

  The thought was intensely tempting, but Elkan shook his head. “She’d want to control us. She’d demand we follow her orders, serve her purposes, help those she favored and withhold the Mother’s power from those who opposed her. It would be ancient Miarban all over again. The Mother would never allow it. If we let ourselves be manipulated into that position, she’ll be forced to act.”

  They reached the third floor and turned down the hall that led to Elkan’s room. Meira’s voice was genuinely curious. “What might she do?”

  Elkan was fairly sure she’d figured out the real relationship of wizards and their familiars, but he wasn’t free to speak of it openly to someone outside the guild. In truth, first the familiars would refuse to use the Mother’s power in any way that violated the Law. If that wasn’t sufficient… “She’d have the familiars break their bonds. All of them, if she had to. She won’t let her power be used against her will.”

  Meira was silent as Elkan paused at a closet to obtain several blankets and a pillow. When they reached the door of his room, she finally spoke. “Then I think you have no choice. You need to persuade the other masters to call for a new election.”

  Her words lodged like iron balls in Elkan’s gut, but he couldn’t deny their truth. “I’m afraid you’re right.”

  “Would you like my help?”

  He would have liked nothing better than to push the unpleasant task off on her, but he shook his head. “It’s my responsibility. I’ll start talking to a few of the ones I think will be most receptive. Tomorrow, after the service.”

  Now that the decision was made, a little of the weight lifted from his heart. But it was nearly balanced by the dread that settled in its place. It wouldn’t be easy. No matter how much the other masters agreed with him about Hanion, they’d be extremely reluctant to break with a thousand years’ worth of tradition and overturn the valid and legally binding decision they’d made less than a year ago.

  Ravid had fallen asleep on Meira’s shoulder. Elkan knelt to spread the blankets into a neat pallet next to the bed. Meira cleared her throat. “Ah, Elkan… About the service tomorrow…”

  A chill ran through him. “Yes?”

  She spoke in a rush. “I know you want to stand up together. I do, too, but I think it would be better if we don’t. Ravid’s been through so much. I dragged him halfway across Tevenar, my work kept me away from him for far too many hours, and then I left him for days. Now he has to cope with even more disruption. He’ll barely have a chance to settle in here before we move. And my hand—” Her voice caught. “It’s too much to ask of him as it is. Adding our marriage on top of that, expecting him to share me with you, accept you as his father… I think we should wait. Once he’s had a chance to get used to the way things are now, and to spend more time w
ith you, get to know you better… then we can take the next step.”

  He rose and took Ravid from her arms. The child’s cheek was sweaty where it had lain against her shoulder. “I agree.” He turned, knelt, and eased Ravid onto the blankets. He covered him with a single thin layer, wondering if even that was too much for the warm summer night. “It will be much easier on Ravid if we wait a while.”

  “This doesn’t change anything,” Meira hastened to assure him. “I love you. I want to stand up with you. I want you to be Ravid’s stepfather. I want us to be a family, to have more children, to spend our lives together. Just… not yet. For Ravid’s sake.”

  The words came easily, because they were true. “I want all those things, too. I love you, Meira. I love Ravid. If you think it’s better for him to wait, we will.”

  He folded her in his arms. It was a perfectly reasonable request. He’d already decided he wouldn’t stand up with her tomorrow. Now he didn’t have to come up with some other excuse.

  He’d known she would pull away eventually. He hadn’t expected it to start so soon, but he would hold firm to his resolve. Enduring this pain gracefully was good practice for the greater pain to come.

  He smoothed a hand down her hair and bent his head to murmur in her ear. “It doesn’t change anything.”

  Forty-Five

  The bustle and chatter that always preceded the Restday service abruptly stilled. Josiah turned from his conversation with Kevessa to see what was happening.

  The great double doors of the Hall stood wide open. The Matriarch stepped through, a dozen Ramunnan soldiers in front of her and another dozen behind. She paraded across the Hall as if it were her throne room, through the gap in the rings of chairs and across the clear circle in the middle. She seated herself in the chair where the leader of the service usually sat, nodding graciously to the assembled crowd, accepting their stares and hush as her due. Two soldiers took up stations directly behind her, standing in the midst of the seated worshipers. The rest distributed themselves outside the outermost ring of chairs.