War of Magic (Dual Magics Book 4)

by Meredith Mansfield

  The lion form had another advantage. It was possible to mark the path as he went with his claws in the softer rock of some layers or, if necessary, in the patches of hard, dry soil. That would have been much more difficult as an eagle. It took half the day, but Vatar thought he’d mapped out a difficult but workable path when he finally stood on top of the plateau looking across to the mainland. The catapults were already in place, there. Two on each headland—one facing the mouth of the bay, the other out into the sea. One more here and no fleet would be able to stay within their range for long.

  Not that that would solve all of Caere’s problems. The Kausalyan fleet could still interdict all trade from the south and complicate trade from the north. A land-based army would have trouble getting through Caere’s walls, but all the farms outside those walls—and all the food they normally produced—would be lost. One problem at a time. The Merchants’ and Fishermen’s Guilds had been working on ways to keep the city supplied. And the Fasallon had been preparing room for refugee farmers and their livestock. And the Fasallon and the Farmers’ Guild had watchers down the coast to warn of the fleet’s approach. There wasn’t much more to be done until the Kausalyan fleet was sighted.

  Vatar was just thinking of flying over the coast to the north of Caere to check on the landing spots chosen by the Merchants’ Guild when a sharp pain in his gut stole his breath for a moment. What . . . ? Oh, he’d felt something like that only once before. But it was too early, wasn’t it? Thekila!

  I’m here. Her voice sounded distressed.

  Is everything all right? he asked. Are you having the baby already? Isn’t it too soon? He couldn’t suppress the memory of his siblings’ births, especially the last when his mother had almost died giving birth to Fenar. He tried to reassure himself that Jadar’s birth had had no such dangerous complications. But those early experiences were too strong to ignore completely.

  It seems like it, she said. I don’t think it’s too early, from what Boreala has said. Though, after Jadar, I expected it to be at least another couple of seven-days.

  I’ll call Boreala. Vatar took several deep breaths. Speaking to Thekila through their bond was effortless. He’d need a measure of calm for Far Speech with anyone else.

  I already did. She’s on her wa— Thekila’s mental voice was interrupted by another pain.

  I’m flying straight home. Vatar shifted from his lion avatar into eagle form even as he sent the thought.

  Yes, I think that would be a good idea, Thekila agreed.

  Vatar leaped off the cliff, catching the rising air current. But he didn’t slow to allow the current to carry him higher. He swept his broad wings, driving forward as fast as a very large eagle could go with a strong westerly wind at his tail. That, as it turned out, was pretty fast. He flew straight over the peninsula where he’d left his horse grazing. No time for that now. He’d come back for the horse later—or tomorrow, if necessary. Perhaps whenever he walked Boreala back down to the Temple. There were no predators to bother the horse and right now it was more important to get home to Thekila. This way was much faster.

  He was forced to rely on soaring whenever one of the pains struck, unable to keep a steady wingbeat until the pang had passed. Too close together. It shouldn’t be going this fast, should it? It hadn’t last time, with Jadar.

  As he flew over the Temple and then the city, many people looked up, tracking the flight of the large white bird. For once, Vatar didn’t care. Once, his main goal had been to hide his magic. To this day, he’d never revealed the full extent of it except to a very few family members. None of that mattered now. He couldn’t think of anything but getting to Thekila as quickly as possible.

  The eagle’s eyes were very sharp. He easily picked out Boreala hurrying up the hill toward the farm. Hurrying wasn’t a good sign, was it? Vatar circled once, dipping a little lower and considering the merits of dropping back to earth and accompanying Boreala against his need to reach the farm as quickly as possible. He drew a deep breath—not easy while flying. Calm. He needed to be calm in order to help Thekila. If he gave in to fear, that would bleed over to her through their bond and only make things harder for her. What he wanted—what he needed—was to be able to help her, give her strength. Another deep breath.

  Vatar pulled out of his spiral. He—and Boreala—were almost to the farm. Better to go on ahead. He wouldn’t be much ahead of the Healer and maybe when he could see and touch Thekila, he’d find it easier to hold onto some shred of composure. For her.

  He landed in the courtyard, causing the horses and goats to stampede to the back of the pasture, and shifted back into his natural form on the run.

  Arcas’s wife, Elaria, met him at the door. “Where’s Boreala?”

  “Not far behind me. How’s Thekila?”

  Elaria glanced out toward the gate. “She’s fine, so far. But this baby seems to be coming faster than Jadar did.”

  Vatar started down the hall toward the bedroom he shared with Thekila. Behind him, he heard Elaria breathe, “Oh, thank the Sea Gods, here she is.” Just how bad was it? He drew in a deep calming breath and felt Taleus help him reach that calm place—finally—before pushing open the door and kneeling by the side of the bed, gripping Thekila’s hand in his.

  Boreala was right behind him, still slightly out of breath from her hurried climb. “How are you doing, Thekila?”

  Thekila swallowed against another pain. “I’m fine, I think. But . . . it seems to be going so much faster this time. When I felt the first little twinges, I thought maybe it was nothing. So I didn’t want to bother you. Then I thought that it would be hours before . . . But then my water broke and . . .”

  Boreala shook her head as Elaria came in with a pile of clean cloths. “Well, the first does tend to take longer, in most cases. Something you both should remember for the future.”

  “Does that mean it will be easier this time?” Vatar asked.

  Boreala tilted her head to one side. “Sometimes.”

  “But it’s at least a couple of seven-days earlier than we expected,” Vatar said.

  “That sometimes happens after the first baby, too. Or anytime, really. There’s no way to predict—unless it’s your Fore Sight.”

  Vatar let out a frustrated breath. “The only thing my Fore Sight has told me about this is that it will be a daughter.”

  Thekila winced as another pain started.

  “That close together?” Boreala asked. “Then we’d better get ready.” She placed her hand on Thekila’s belly and closed her eyes in concentration. “Oh, yes. She’s in position. It won’t be long.” She glanced at Vatar. “And you’re right. It’s a girl.”

  ~

  Vatar continued to grip Thekila’s hand while Boreala cleaned the baby. Compared to the twins and Jadar, she seemed unusually quiet. “Is she all right? Did she come too early?”

  Boreala placed the little bundle in Thekila’s arms. “She’s perfectly normal. And, no, she didn’t come too early. She’s just a quiet baby. Some are.”

  “She’s perfect,” Thekila said, stroking the still damp dark fuzz on the baby’s head.

  Vatar touched one little hand. The tiny fingers curled loosely around one of his. “She’s so tiny. Jadar wasn’t this small.”

  “She’s fine, Vatar. Babies aren’t all the same size.” Boreala touched his shoulder. “Stop worrying, little brother, and enjoy the moment.”

  Thekila looked up and caught his eye, smiling. “Her name is Taleara.”

  I am honored, Taleus said in Vatar’s mind. Vatar drew a deep breath. “It’s a good name.” The ritual reply of a Dardani father accepting a girl child as his own.

  At the sound of her name, Taleara opened startlingly green eyes.

  Vatar laughed. “She has your eyes.”

  Thekila grinned and fingered her own sweat-dampened red curls. “And, this one has your hair. She’ll be a beauty when she grows up.”

  “Shall I bring the other children in now?” Elaria asked. “Zavar
and Savara have been very anxious. And Jadar has caught it from them, though I don’t think he understands what it’s about.”

  “Yes,” Thekila said. “It’s time they met their new sister.” She smiled. “Then we’ll have to tell Theklan and your father the good news.”

  Chapter 11: Battle of Caere

  Vatar and Thekila stood on the bluffs above the mouth of the bay watching the approach of the Kausalyan fleet. They were on the southern, city side of the bay this time. Father was on the opposite headland on the Temple side of the bay, with Teran and Terania. And Lideus, Captain of the Temple Guard, was with the catapult team on the island. Coordination of the catapult batteries required Far Speech communication. But there’d been a few more disturbances down in the city as word of the Lie spread. Most of the Fasallon didn’t feel safe outside the Temple precincts. So, Vatar and Thekila would handle the communication from this side. One of the message senders who’d been out with Caereans to watch for the appearance of this fleet—and was therefore more comfortable with the Caereans than most—stood by as backup for them.

  They’d had plenty of warning of the fleet’s approach and its size, but it was still impressive to watch. Gerusa must have commandeered every merchant vessel and fishing boat for this. And all packed with Themyri warriors—and Exiles of course. Far Sight revealed that nearly all of the Themyri were every bit as green with sea sickness as Vatar would have been in their place. For now, it was the ships themselves that were the threat. Not that he thought they had a chance of getting into the harbor.

  Still, looking at the number of Themyri raiders and Exiles on those ships, Vatar was very glad that his family was safe within the walls. His family and Arcas’s had moved in with Arcas’s parents. Elaria and Arcas’s mother were watching the children now—all but little Taleara, now a month and a half old, who slept in a Dardani-style sling against Thekila’s chest. The house was crowded and it felt strange to be working with Uncle Lanark again, like when Vatar had been his apprentice, but Aunt Castalia seemed to be in her element having so many people to take care of. Especially the children.

  Vatar turned at a slight sound behind him. One of the journeymen who was supposed to fire the catapult had his hand on the lever.

  Vatar held up his hand. “Not yet!”

  “But that first one is almost to the harbor mouth.”

  Vatar smiled. “Let him go. For all the good it will do him.” It was far more important that they wait until the fleet was in range of all three catapult batteries, so their first salvo could wreak maximum damage. None of these ships would get into the bay today, in any case. The smiths had welded heavy anchor chains together. Vatar had helped with that and sung strength into the links while he worked. That chain was now strung across the entrance to the harbor, just below the water. Any ship that tried to enter the bay while that was in place would tear its keel out and sink.

  Vatar watched the ships below as they turned toward the mouth of the harbor, temporarily bunching up in the space between the two headlands and the island, exactly as the merchants had predicted they would. When at least some portion of the fleet was in range of each of the three batteries, Vatar brought his hand down sharply. “Now!” At the same time, he sent the same command across to Captain Lideus on the island by Far Speech and Thekila communicated it to Father on the opposite promontory.

  Three stones arced into the air and fell with a crash on three of the ships. As quickly as the catapults could be reloaded, three more stones flew to inflict more damage. Immediately below, the sound of cracking boards told the fate of the lead ship that had made it to the entrance to the bay. So far, their plan was working better than Vatar had dared hope. Another three stones were flung from the catapults—not as well synchronized this time. Well, that was to be expected.

  Below, Vatar watched while the undamaged ships struggled to reverse course and get out of the line of fire, beginning to spread out as they went. A few of the damaged ships seemed to be sound enough to try to limp after their comrades. Not much could be done about that. Tests had proven that the catapults could be very effective when the target was grouped together, as they had been originally. But it was very difficult to aim at a specific ship with the cumbersome devices. More stones followed, trying to take out as many of the enemy fleet as possible while they were still in range.

  With Far Sight, Vatar could see individual men jumping from the sinking ships and swimming to the rocky beaches below. Well, there were Caereans already in place there to take them captive. Other men weren’t so fortunate—or didn’t know how to swim. Vatar looked away from that. Nothing he could do to help them. If the other ships cleared out fast enough, maybe the skiffs waiting just inside the harbor could do something.

  Thekila crept up to his side and Vatar put his arm around her as they watched the Kausalyan fleet retreat out of catapult range and drop anchor.

  “This isn’t over,” she said.

  Vatar drew in a deep breath. “No. That would have been too much to hope for. But I think it’ll take some time for them to regroup.” They were prepared for what they expected the Exiles next move would be. But something still wasn’t sitting quite right with him. He just couldn’t quite put his finger on it—yet.

  “Probably,” she agreed.

  “Father,” Vatar said through Far Speech, “can you leave a watcher on that side?” Someone who could keep an eye on the enemy with Far Sight and send the alarm by Far Speech was essential now.

  “Of course.”

  “Good. Then I’ll take Thekila back to my uncle’s. Could you, and Teran, and Terania meet us there?”

  “Of course. Is this something that should be discussed with the full Council?”

  The Full Council was how they’d started to refer to the merging of the High Council and the Guild Council. ­“No. Or . . . not yet. There’s something I haven’t quite got hold of yet. It’d be easier to thrash it out with just us, I think.”

  “We’ll be there.”

  Vatar nodded to the message sender who would take over communications here in their absence, with an admonition to keep a close watch on the enemy, and started back towards where they’d left their horses.

  ~

  They rode through the city. It was unusual for anyone to ride inside the city walls, but the horses were necessary for speed. Uncle Lanark’s home was located near the center of the arc Caere made around the inside of the bay, and the catapult batteries were on the headlands at the far extremes. In fact, Uncle Lanark’s once-quiet courtyard was teeming with dogs, horses, goats, and chickens. The few cattle they had left from last year’s trading with the Dardani were in the public corrals just inside the Temple complex and would likely be slaughtered for food if this blockade went on very long. The horses, they needed. They couldn’t have left the dogs behind—not without massive protests from Savara, anyway. And the goats and chickens supplied milk and eggs for the family crowded into the house.

  Savara had cried at having to leave “her” raven behind. Vatar had been secretly relieved—until the bird showed up at Uncle Lanark’s, having apparently followed them—or Savara—down the hill. Oh, well. The bird hadn’t hurt Savara yet. Maybe it wouldn’t.

  Vatar and Thekila arrived in plenty of time to put little Taleara down for a nap—not that she hadn’t been sleeping most of the morning, anyway. Even the catapults hadn’t seemed to disturb her. And for Vatar and Arcas to set out some of the fruit they’d harvested before moving inside the walls along with a pitcher of cider.

  Father, Teran, and Terania arrived not long after Vatar set out the cider.

  As they all sat down around the table in Uncle Lanark’s main room, Father asked, “What’s this about, Vatar.”

  Vatar remained standing, pacing back and forth as much as the small room would allow. “I don’t understand something. We sank five of their ships and damaged as many more. Men drowned out there, in spite of the skiffs that went out to pluck them out of the water—”

  “Men die
in battle, Vatar,” Father said.

  Vatar waved that off. “I’ve been in more fights than you have, Father. And I’ve killed before, though not gladly. I know that. But . . . A man needs a reason to fight when he knows he might die for it. I understand what Gerusa wants, and the Exiles. The Themyri . . . well, from everything we know, the Exiles have played on their superstitions until the Themyri wouldn’t dare disobey them. But the Kausalyan captains and sailors—they have to be every bit as hard-headed and practical as their Caerean counterparts.”

  “They are,” Arcas said.

  “So why did they anchor just beyond the range of the catapults? Why are they staying to make another attempt? They’re beyond Gerusa’s reach. I can’t believe they’ve been deceived into thinking the Exiles are Sea Gods. The Exiles can’t know any more about boats and the sea than I do—likely less. What makes them want to continue this fight?”

  “Does it matter?” Terania asked. “If a man is trying to kill you, do you stop and ask why?”

  Father rubbed his chin. “It’s always wise to know your enemies’ motives. If nothing else, it helps you predict their next move.”

  Arcas turned his mug of cider in his hands. “I see your point that the Exiles would have difficulty passing for Sea Gods. Could they be using their magic to force the Kausalyans to comply?”

  Vatar shook his head. “There’s really very little they could do with magic in that way. We—and they—can’t use Far Speech with Caereans or Kausalyans. We can’t read anybody’s mind. Far Sight isn’t particularly threatening. Transformations can be intimidating, I guess. I’m certain that’s what keeps the Themyri cowed. But really, without a lot of practice, the Exiles are, if anything, less of a threat in their avatars. And even distant manipulation can’t be used against a living thing.” He rubbed the palm of his left hand absently, remembering how Loran and his friends had used that Power to throw rocks at him in the Pass five years ago and amended that statement. “Not directly, anyway. I can’t see most Caereans being intimidated by any of that for long. Not if they’d been constantly exposed to it, anyway. Mystery was half the secret to maintaining Fasallon power. They . . . we didn’t mix much with the Caereans so they never really knew what we could—or couldn’t—do.”