The Wizards' War

by Angela Holder

  Nirel gaped at him. “That’s ridiculous! How can you call it a consensus when so many disagree?”

  Gently, he said, “Nirel, I saw him hurt you. I know you’ve been taught to think he has that right, but he doesn’t. I may not be able to prevent you from choosing to remain with the Faithful and continuing to submit yourself to this sort of abuse, but I can at least hold him responsible for the crime I witnessed.”

  She clenched her fists. “Like you did with Father?”

  “Like I did with Kabos. Please, Nirel, reconsider going back to Faithhome with them. You know what awaits you there. If you stay in Elathir, I promise I’ll help you find a good apprenticeship in whatever craft you choose. I’ve seen how strong and determined and loyal you are. Give that loyalty to those who deserve it, not to those who hurt you and call it love.”

  His offer tempted her almost more than she could bear, but she turned away. He didn’t understand. None of them did. Davon and Nolaren, like Kabos before them, truly cared for her. They did only what the Lord of Justice commanded. No matter how miserable that sometimes made her, she had to believe it was right. “No,” she whispered.

  Elkan sighed. “The consensus stands as described. The Mother sets her seal on this judgement.”

  Davon rose. “Do what they tell you without resistance,” he told Nolaren. “In the morning we will sail as soon as they return you to the ship. We need never suffer their travesty of justice again.”

  “I won’t take his money,” Nirel said. “You may as well not bother trying to make him give it to me. Once we marry, everything I own will be his, anyway.”

  The watcher shook her head. “Too bad the Mother’s power can’t cure stupidity.”

  Davon put his hand on Nirel’s arm before she could make a hot retort. “Come, daughter. Let us leave this place before they insult our Faith further.”

  She went with him toward the aisle that led to the door. Josiah jumped to his feet and blocked their path. “Blast it, Nirel, you can’t go with them. You can’t marry that brute.”

  She glared at him, her turbulent emotions finding a welcome outlet in anger. “I can and I will. You can’t stop me.”

  His jaw jutted forward in his most mulish expression. “Yes, I can.”

  Ice gripped her body as she realized what he meant. “No! Elder Davon, he’s lying, don’t—”

  He raised his voice, plowing over her words. “Two years ago, at her father’s farm in the mountains, I saw Elkan use the Mother’s power to heal Nirel.”

  Beside her, Elder Davon went rigid. She started to protest again, but he silenced her with a touch. In a quiet, inexorable voice, he said, “Go on.”

  Josiah drew himself up. “Kabos was beating her with a switch. We charged in and stopped him. The switch left bloody welts. Elkan and Sar—they were bonded then—sent the Mother’s power to heal them. I saw it go into her body. In a few seconds all that was left were scars.”

  Elder Davon closed his eyes briefly, drawing a deep breath. He turned to Elkan. “Is this true?”

  “Yes,” Elkan said. “Everything happened just as Josiah described.”

  Nirel looked around wildly. Nolaren was staring at her horrified, as if she’d turned into a monster. The watcher and the other Tevenarans in the room looked sympathetic and cautiously hopeful. Elder Davon looked twenty years older than he had a moment before.

  She fell to her knees and grabbed his hands. “Elder, please, don’t listen to them. They’re lying! That’s not what happened. I wasn’t really hurt. They didn’t really heal me.” She could feel the hot stripes across her buttocks and the soothing tingle of the Lady’s power as it wiped them away.

  He looked down as if from a tremendous height. His eyes were bleak and ancient and unyielding as stone. “Daughter, I charge you to tell me the truth, in the name of the Lord of Justice. Did the Lady’s power invade your body and change it, as the thirtieth Ordinance of the first month forbids?”

  “No!”

  He looked steadily into her eyes. “I wish I could believe you daughter, but I can’t. You have too strong a reason to lie. Two witnesses concur. According to the Ordinances, that is evidence I cannot deny. Was anyone else present who might contradict their testimony?”

  “My mother. We can send for her, she’ll tell you…” Nirel couldn’t go on. Her mother would be only too delighted to confirm what the wizards said. “My brother was there, too.”

  “He is but a child. But if your mother confirms your version, it will be two witnesses against two, and no truth can be determined.”

  Nirel’s heart soared, but then Elkan spoke. “One other adult was present. Master Meira Smithkin Blaster. She’s in Elathir; I can send for her if you like. I’m sure she’ll confirm the truth.”

  Smash it, Meira surely would. Nirel was trapped. Nothing could save her now.

  Still, she had to try, even knowing it was useless. “It was long before I’d ever heard about the Ordinances, or the Lord of Justice, or the Faithful. I had no way of knowing I should refuse, or even that I could. I didn’t ask them to heal me. The Ordinance says ‘submit himself.’ I never submitted. They did it to me without even asking if I wanted them to. That shouldn’t count!”

  “I’m sorry, daughter.” Elder Davon freed his hands from her grasp and stepped back. He raised his voice. “Nirel, daughter of Kabos, you are an abomination in the eyes of the Lord of Justice. I cast you out of his presence, now and forever. You are no longer numbered among the Faithful.”

  Nirel crumpled to the ground. Elder Davon stepped around her and strode from the room.

  Josiah crouched and put his arms around her shoulders. “Nirel, I’m sorry, but I couldn’t let you—”

  She flung him away. “I hate you!”

  She scrambled to her feet. She wanted to run after Davon and beg him to relent, but he would ignore her. She wanted to flee, but there was nowhere to go.

  Nolaren broke free from the watcher’s grasp and shoved past Josiah to face her. He looked her up and down, loathing on his face. “Thank the Lord we found out before I married you.” He spat at her feet and turned his back. When the watcher grabbed his arm again, he followed her out of the room without protest.

  Elkan approached her cautiously. “My offer still stands. Do you have somewhere to go tonight? If not, you’re welcome here. You can join us for the evening meal and stay in one of the guest rooms until other arrangements can be made.”

  “I have money.” She cupped the purse at her belt, estimating how much was left of what Davon had given her. Quite a bit; he’d been generous, and Nolaren had cut short her shopping before she’d bought as many books as she’d planned. She could probably stretch it to cover a cheap room and scant meals for a few days, if she was frugal. “I don’t need any more help.”

  He flinched. “I apologize if my actions have harmed you.”

  If he’d tried to make excuses, she could have argued. Instead she dismissed his words with a curt gesture. “A lot of good that does now.”

  “If you change your mind, the doors of the Mother’s Hall are always open to you.” He inclined his head and backed away.

  She drew herself up and turned with all the dignity she could muster. The aisle seemed three times as long as it had before, but she strode to the door with what she hoped was a convincing show of confidence. Heads turned and murmurs sounded as she crossed the Hall, but no one tried to stop her. She emerged through the big double doors to a sky brilliant orange with sunset. She made it down the steps and halfway across the plaza before her vision blurred so badly she had to stop.

  She dropped onto a bench by the fountain and covered her face. What was she going to do now? Once again her life had turned suddenly and shockingly upside down. She didn’t even know what she wanted, except to race after Elder Davon and beg for forgiveness he couldn’t give her.

  She ought to be relieved that she wouldn’t have to marry Nolaren, and part of her was. But as much as she’d dreaded the prospect, it had been her
choice to accept the betrothal. She could have chosen to break it if she’d been willing to face the consequences. But obedience to the Ordinances had been more important to her than her personal happiness.

  Now she’d been robbed of that choice by those who believed they knew better than she what was good for her. And they claimed to believe free will was sacred! Hypocrites.

  She thought of the serenity of the Ordinance scroll suspended amidst the chaos of the draperies, and a sob escaped her throat. Could it really be possible she’d never kneel in a shrine again? Never pray again, never again feel the peace of the Lord of Justice settle over her soul?

  Why had the Lord ever accepted her? He’d known the truth all along, even if Elder Davon hadn’t. Why had he welcomed her into his presence if he’d intended to cast her out when it became known?

  Maybe he never really had. Maybe what she’d thought she’d felt had been an illusion, the product of her own yearning imagination.

  She couldn’t believe that. She wouldn’t believe it. And she wouldn’t believe he’d rejected her now. The Ordinance said “submit himself” to the Lady’s power. She hadn’t. Elder Davon and all the Elders before him must have interpreted the Ordinance wrong.

  Free will might be a curse, but it was real. The Lord of Justice hadn’t been able to take away what the Lady had given. Nirel had the choice of what to believe, who to serve. She’d chosen to submit herself to the Lord of Justice and his Ordinances, and her choice hadn’t changed.

  Her heart slowed, her breathing steadied, and peace settled over her. No one could take her Faith from her. Not the wizards, not the Elders. Not even the Lord of Justice himself. She would remain true to her heritage and to him whether he wanted her devotion or not.

  Fifty-Three

  The Autarch was waiting in the usual cubicle, sitting on the cot. Elkan nodded to him as he entered. “Good morning, Tane. I have a few minutes before I have to report to the council. Are you sure you’re all right with Josiah treating you alone today, or would you rather I bring in a journeymen to help him?”

  Tane turned to recline as he’d done each of the past four days. “I’m sure he’ll manage without trouble.” He smiled at Josiah and Sar as they took their places.

  Elkan hesitated, but Josiah was as familiar with the Autarch’s case as he was, and had assisted perfectly well so far. Locating each tiny bit of tumor, reversing its growth, and accelerating the body’s assault on it until it was completely eradicated was a slow and tedious task. It wasn’t hard, but if wizard or familiar grew careless and missed even a single spark, the disease could come back worse than before. Not the kind of work Josiah was good at. But Sar had many years of experience with this sort of thing and could keep him on track. And Elkan could recheck the areas he’d covered after the council was over. Maybe in only a few hours, if things went well.

  If things went badly… He didn’t want to think about that.

  The decision should go in his favor. The balance hadn’t swung much in the last few days. When the masters from Thedan had arrived yesterday they’d mostly expressed support for him, as expected. But Hanion had a big enough core of strong supporters to keep Elkan from rallying the council to an immediate consensus. And he was planning something. Elkan kept catching him with a smug expression which he hid as soon as he noticed his opponent watching.

  Tane closed his eyes, Josiah extended his hand, and Sar sent the Mother’s power to envelop a portion of the Autarch’s torso. Elkan watched for a few minutes, then turned and left the cubicle. Let’s get this over with.

  Yes, Guildmaster. At his annoyed glare, Tobi blinked guilelessly, her tongue lolling. Just practicing.

  She pressed against his hip as he walked across the Hall to join the other masters gathered around the door of the biggest courtroom. He sank his hand into her fur. As they neared the door, Hanion pushed it open and the masters filed in.

  Everything was the same as it had been last time. The chairs were arranged in closely spaced concentric circles, packed tightly to accommodate the crowd. Elkan took the same position in the inmost row as he had before, a quarter of the way around the circle from the aisle that led from the door to the center. Tobi sat alertly on her haunches beside him, instead of sprawling as she usually did. Hanion seated himself facing Elkan, Mavke in his lap. Hanion’s supporters and their familiars clustered around him. Elkan’s most staunch allies took the seats beside and behind him. The rest filled in until there wasn’t an empty chair left. The air grew stifling with the body heat generated by people and animals.

  Finally everyone was settled and the door closed. Hanion rose. “In the Mother’s name, I call this meeting of the Council of Masters of the Wizards’ Guild to order. A sufficient number of you have expressed dissatisfaction with my leadership that for the first time in Tevenar’s history we must hold an election to determine whether the current Guildmaster will retain his position or be replaced by another. We will begin by determining whether a consensus yet exists. Each master will rise, in order of seniority, and state the name of the wizard they believe should lead the guild.”

  Elkan settled back in his chair as the roll call began, listening carefully, especially for those masters his team had identified as undecided. There were only a few minor surprises, which mostly balanced each other out. At the end the tally stood about where they’d expected. More than three quarters of the wizards had named Elkan, a handful had abstained, and the rest had named Hanion. A good start, but nowhere near enough to claim a consensus.

  Time favored Hanion. The longer this dragged on, the more masters would decide that, in the absence of an overwhelming demand for change, they should defer to tradition and uphold the status quo. Elkan had to make his points quickly and forcefully and swing opinion hard to his side.

  He was prepared when the murmurs that greeted the end of the roll call died down and Hanion rose again. “Master Elkan, do you wish to address the council?”

  “Yes.” He stood up. Tobi rose, too, and stationed herself proudly at his side. “My fellow master wizards, we face a choice that will determine the future of Tevenar. The isolation that has protected us for a thousand years is over. We have survived an attempt by a hostile nation to invade and conquer us. Now we must decide: will we continue to engage with the outside world and risk more such attempts in the future, or will we withdraw behind armed barricades to protect ourselves? Will wizards ensure that the Mother’s power remains available to the people of Tevenar by dedicating our efforts to defending and serving them, or will we divide our energy between them and the rest of the Mother’s children?”

  He spread his hands. “In the past I’ve argued that we have a duty to serve all the people of the world. More recently I’ve come to believe that our responsibility to the people of Tevenar takes precedence. But I have always remained committed above all else to following the Mother’s will as I understand it.”

  Quiet murmurs stirred the muggy air as many of his listeners whispered to their neighbors. He took a deep breath. “The Mother has presented us with a unique opportunity. Both the Matriarch of Ramunna and the Autarch of Marvanna are currently in Tevenar. If you choose me as your Guildmaster, I will invite the two of them to participate in peace talks, which I will mediate. If they can be persuaded to settle their differences and foreswear any further military conflict either with each other or with us, the way will be open for wizards to travel to both countries while Tevenar remains safe.”

  The reactions got louder. “If you believe the Mother wants us to follow that course, you must decide for yourselves whether you think Hanion or I will be more effective in persuading the Matriarch and the Autarch to reach a settlement.” He wished he could describe his skill at negotiation and point out just how lacking Hanion was in that department, but it would sound like hollow bragging coming from him. Let his supporters make the point. “You experienced my leadership during the recent crisis. If you choose to call on me to continue that leadership in the coming difficult days, I w
ill humbly accept.”

  Elkan sat down. All over the room voices swelled. Now Hanion would make his opening statement, and then the discussion would begin. It was mostly out of his hands, now. All he could do was sit back, answer any questions to the best of his ability, and wait for the others to decide.

  Hanion stood up and waited until silence fell. Elkan wondered how the guildmaster would respond. Would he jump on the idea of brokering peace between Matriarch and Autarch and extol his ability to do so better than Elkan, or would he denounce it?

  Hanion stroked Mavke and bent to set him on the ground. Straightening, he swept his gaze around the whole circle. “You heard my opponent say he is committed above all else to following the Mother’s will. But I’ve discovered proof that he has blatantly violated her will, as expressed in her Law. Not only does he not deserve to be elected Guildmaster, he deserves to have his bond broken.”

  Shocked exclamations exploded everywhere. Tobi froze. Her voice in Elkan’s mind was laced with panic. What’s he talking about?

  Attempting to soothe her terror let him ignore his own. I don’t know. He must have fabricated some sort of evidence. There’s nothing real for him to find.

  She panted, trembling. Please be telling me the truth. I don’t want to break our bond.

  You won’t have to. I haven’t broken the Law.

  Miserably she pulled away. But you’ve been accused. I shouldn’t even be talking to you. I have to watch whatever he shows me. I can’t use the Mother’s power with you until I know for sure.

  Of course. Do what you must. I understand. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.

  Abruptly she shut her mind to him and crept to the center of the circle, a dozen feet away. Elkan had to clench his hands into fists to avoid reaching after her. It was horribly like that other time he’d been falsely accused of breaking the Law, and Sar had withdrawn contact.