Chapter 87
Kristana: “I too awaited the expected guest”
Her daughter passed her on the stairwell, going down as she went up. Or do I have that backward? Is she ascending into the noble (if impractical) ruminations of philosophy from the idealism of her youth, while I descend once more into the practical (if bloody) business of defending my land, my citizens, and those I love?
Enough. Aria seemed less troubled, for whatever reason, so Kristana left it at that and didn't speak as they passed. Pushing the door to the rooftop open, she was surprised to see Xander seated out there. Aria must have been speaking with him, and from her untroubled countenance one could infer that at least they had not argued. She tried to imagine the shock of it. Bad enough to be a young woman expected to put aside all other ambitions to assume the mantle of leadership for a country. That she knew, herself, from experience. But add to that the disconcerting revelation that you are the child of the court wizard, the odd man none seemed to know well, whose main furnishings and possessions were old books and bits of alien technology. Imagine discovering that some feared sorcerer were your father, rather than the beloved General.
She left her guard at the door and moved closer to him. He seemed oblivious, and yet when she was within a couple of paces of his position he let he know he was aware of her.
“What can I do for you, your Excellency?”
Rather than get right to it, she decided on an indirect approach. “I passed Aria on her way down. Were the two of you speaking? She seemed calmer than before.”
“Yes. She was asking how we met. Dustfall seems a thousand years ago. But she does seem to be coming to terms with her unexpected lineage.”
Dustfall? She tried to remember it. One of the stops on her husband's recruiting trips. She, a young woman barely into her adulthood, still barely believing the older man could actually love a nothing like her, watching the faces of the people in the inn as they listened to the General dream out loud for them. “Were you there?”
He glanced at her. “It was where I first saw both of you. I'm not surprised you don't remember. I didn't speak to you, not then, though we passed each other in the moonlight behind the inn.” He fell silent for a bit, then resumed. “After hearing him, and seeing you, I walked most of the night toward Panning, to meet up with you again there the next night.”
“You never told me that.” How like him, she thought. There I was, waiting to meet him, not knowing it, and also not knowing we'd already passed at the town before that. It reminded her of one of the things she'd come to discuss. “Do you really think he'll come before Spring?”
He didn't have to ask who she meant. “No question about it. With the snows we've been having, it's a stupid time to attack, at least with horses, and since we know that, he'll expect us to think he'll wait. But he won't.”
“Why not?”
“Because he won't be bringing any horses. His little motorized army will be moving too fast for them to keep up, and we both know with ice and snow the footing will be bad for horses anyway. Plus there's the morale issue.”
What was that supposed to mean? “Oh?”
Xander sighed. “This is only his first attack with the tanks and troop carriers, so he'll want to make a good first impression on his troops. Make them feel invincible so they'll be ready to move on other countries soon. For that reason, I can't seem him letting it be a matter of dueling horse-archers. What he'll want his men to see is themselves, in tanks and trucks, overrunning an outclassed rabble with horses and crossbows. So he won't bring any horses.”
“You mean, he won't want any of his forces to seem on the same level as ours.”
“Exactly.”
“But isn't he putting a lot of faith in his refurbished vehicles? It seems to me that for all he knows they might have problems with the cold. If they break down on the way, or in the middle of battle, won't he look like a reckless fool?”
“He would,” Xander granted. “But he's had some time to plan this since they cleared away the rubble and found that lost armory. If he comes at all, it will mean his advisers and engineers are betting their careers and lives on their ability to make the old machines work, even under these conditions.”
She touched his shoulder, and when he turned his head she caught his eyes with hers. “How are we going to beat him? I know you haven't been killing yourself at the smithy just to make swizzles and everflames for the citizens.”
“No,” he agreed. “Not just for that. I have a plan, but since we know he might still have spies in Rado I've been keeping it to myself until the last minute. He can't hear a whisper of it. The slightest change in what I think his plans are would keep me from stopping him.”
“And you're going to do this all by yourself? Because unless you are, you'd better tell me what you need to make it work.”
“I was just about to do that. But will you promise me something first?”
Kristana shook her head. I will never understand how he thinks. Here we are facing destruction and he needs to hear a promise? “What is it?”
“If anything happens to me, but you still win...or at least survive the Honcho's attack, promise me you'll start my school for wizards. What I mean is, if after the battle you're still Governor you do it officially of course, but if we lose and you manage to escape to wherever, even if you're in hiding, promise me you'll start the school.”
“How can you ask me to promise this, now? Are you crazy?”
“Never saner,” he said. “And I think I've earned it, after serving Rado all this time. Don't you? We always talked about doing it, but it always got put off until later.” He looked out over the city. When he resumed speaking his voice was barely above a whisper, but she could hear the desperation in it. “It's not for me, Kristana. It's for you. For everyone.”
He turned to lock gazes with her. “The old world is crumbling. Humanity might make it back up the long climb to where we were before, before the Tourists. They might. Then again, they might not. If people like the Honcho win, we might just stay in an age of empires and wars for who knows how long before things change. Another Dark Ages! But you can prevent that.”
She stared at him. “Me? How can I prevent it? I'm not even a wizard.”
“It's like lighting a torch from another torch. That's fine if all you ever want to do is have one torch burning. But if you want to enlighten the whole planet, if you want to jump start our technology using what I've learned from the alien magic, you'll need more than one wizard, your Excellency. Blacksmithing survived because enough people knew it . Magic can do the same thing. It needs its own skills, its own guild. You can start it happening.”
“Didn't you hear me? I can't do it without you. I'm no wizard.”
“No,” he said. “But Lester is. He can make it happen. With your help.”
Kristana just looked at him. Why does this all feel so familiar? And then she knew. Her mind went back to a another man, on his deathbed, making her promise to keep a Dream alive. It was the General all over again. She put her hand on his shoulder. “We'll do it. With or without you, I promise your school will be born. Somehow we'll make it grow. In cities or in caves, officially or underground, it'll happen. Now, how do we beat the Honcho?”
Pathspace Page 87
