War of Magic (Dual Magics Book 4)

by Meredith Mansfield

  He drew in a deep breath and continued. “The Themyri could be used as a physical threat, I suppose. But surely, the Kausalyans and the Exiles must both know that the Exiles wouldn’t stand a chance of working those ships without the Kausalyans’ cooperation.”

  “Everything you say is true,” Teran said. “But how do you propose we solve this riddle?”

  Vatar paced back across the room, then spun to face his father. “We could try asking them. If we bring the Council’s Sooth Teller with us, we’ll know if they try to lie. Where are the rescued sailors being taken?”

  “All prisoners are being held in the basement of the Palace at least until we can sort out any Exiles from the group. It provides the least chance of escape,” Father answered. “But I doubt they’d be in any shape to answer questions just yet.”

  Vatar closed his eyes and swallowed. “That . . . could actually work to our advantage. No use giving them time to recover.” He drew in a deep breath. No telling how long they had before the battle started up again. And he couldn’t be in both places at once. “As soon as possible. Before things heat up out there again. Thekila—”

  “I’ll see she gets back to the catapults safely,” Arcas said.

  Terania pointed at her brother and herself. “And we can deal with the catapults on the other side for a little while, at least.”

  Vatar nodded reluctantly. He didn’t doubt Thekila could manage. He did, however, doubt very much that the Caerean men would take orders from her. Or, if they did, whether they’d hesitate just that moment too long. Arcas might make that easier. But if this interrogation might lead to an end to the hostilities, it’d be worth it. “Let me know as soon as anything starts up out there.”

  Chapter 12: Interrogation

  Vatar accompanied his father back toward the Temple and the docks from which they could be rowed across to Palace Island.

  “What about the Sooth Teller?” he asked.

  Father smiled. “He’ll meet us there.”

  Once the skiff pulled up to the pier, they disembarked and walked up the broad stairs into the Palace. With a wave at Dinus, they descended down the stairs into a part of the Palace Vatar had never been to before. There were guards at the first landing.

  “We put the Kausalyan sailors on this level,” Father said. “We’re trying to treat them as well as we can, under the circumstances. The Healers have already seen to their injuries. The Exiles and the handful of Kausalyan Fasallon we captured are on the level below, for added security.”

  Vatar remembered Taleus’s advice to him, less than a year ago, when he’d been captured by Gerusa that even with his magic, it would be much easier to escape from above ground level. That could only be enhanced by being surrounded by water. He nodded his approval.

  As they walked down the dark hallway, lit only by torches, he saw that what must have been storerooms at one time had been converted to cells. Fitted with shiny new locks and with windows new-cut into the doors, screened with bars, also new. When Father pointedly didn’t look into the first cell, Vatar glanced that way. Selene! He’d known that his one half-sister who’d allied herself with Gerusa was still kept prisoner. He hadn’t known that she was kept so closely confined. On the other hand, her mother, Gerusa, had escaped from house arrest fairly easily. Perhaps this was necessary. Still, it obviously wasn’t easy for Father.

  Just down the hall a knot of Palace Guards stood in front of another cell door. The Sooth Teller was with them. At Father’s nod, the sergeant opened the cell door and stood back, hand on his sword hilt.

  Vatar stepped through into the cell first. Between himself, Father, and the Sooth Teller, he’d be far and away the best equipped to deal with any trouble. But the confined men simply looked up at him with a mixture of interest and fear.

  The cell was lit with a pair of torches set high up above the door, but some air and daylight also filtered in from a long, low window just below the ceiling. Long benches—possibly originally storage shelves—lined the other three walls, combination seating and sleeping platforms.

  He tried to smile reassuringly. “Fair day.”

  He got only a few mumbled replies and more stares.

  “We just want to ask you a few questions,” Vatar said.

  “We won’t tell you anything,” one man replied, his jaw set. “Not even under torture.”

  “No one here is going to torture you,” Vatar said. “And I’m not going to ask you about what your fellows out there are planning. First, I’m not sure you know what their next move will be, since we obviously surprised you with our defenses. Second, if I wanted to know that, I’d go down another level and ask the Exiles—the ones with red hair allied with the Fasallon—and the Fasallon themselves. They were more likely to be in on the command decisions.”

  “The ones who got our ship sunk, you mean,” another man said.

  Vatar nodded. “Yes. I’m sure that’s true. It can’t have been pleasant for you. Knowing so much more about the sea and your ship, but having to take orders—dangerous orders—from those who only thought they knew what they were doing.”

  Mutters of agreement followed this statement.

  “Well, what do you want to know, then?” the second man asked.

  Vatar sat at the end of the nearest bench. “I know what the Exiles want. I think I understand the motives of the Kausalyan Fasallon. From what I’ve seen elsewhere, the Themyri are too afraid of the Exiles to do anything but what they’re told. But I don’t understand why you would risk your lives in this dispute between Kausalya and Caere. The seamen I know here are too practical and independent to be led into useless deaths that way.”

  “What does it matter now?”

  “Maybe it doesn’t. But maybe it could lead to a way to end this without having to destroy any more ships. Without any more drownings.”

  A young man on the far bench choked back a sob at that. Must have lost someone close to him in that first battle. He looked barely old enough to be part of a ships’ crew. His father or an older brother, perhaps?

  “We do it for Gerusa,” the first man said.

  “Odd,” Father said from just inside the doorway. “I’ve never known Gerusa to inspire that kind of loyalty.”

  “Who are you and how do you know Gerusa?” the man asked defiantly.

  Father shrugged. “I’m Veleus, her ex-husband.” He glanced down the hall, toward Selene’s cell. “And the father of her children.”

  This raised still more murmurs.

  Vatar’s eyes narrowed. His opinion of Gerusa was if anything worse than his father’s. He wondered just what kind of lies—beyond the Lie—Gerusa had been feeding the people of Kausalya. But he wasn’t sure how to ask that question.

  “You lie!” the first man said. “Gerusa is a goddess. One of the Sea Gods returned to us. She would not have married a mere man.”

  The second man sighed deeply. “Don’t be more of a fool than you can help, Ferse. She’s powerful, yes. The most powerful descendant of the Sea Gods we’ve ever had rule over us. But if she were a goddess, why would she always be surrounded by guards?”

  Vatar shot to his feet. “She claimed to be a goddess?”

  “She is a goddess.” The first man insisted. “I’ve seen her change her form with my own eyes. She’s come so that we can purge the corruption of the Sea Gods legacy that emanates from Caere.”

  Vatar held back a laugh. If that was all it took . . . his own Transformations were far more impressive than Gerusa’s, who normally only used a Transformation to imitate her distant ancestress for the Festival. He remembered her pathetic imitation of a sea dragon years ago. And her reaction to his lion avatar, even then. He eyed the crowded room. There was just about enough room. “Like this?” He concentrated on his lion form and shifted, taking up all of the free space in the cell. His massive head was almost in Ferse’s lap. The man shrank as far back as the wall of the cell would allow. And then back to his human form. “I assure you, I am not a god. That’s only magic.
She’s lied to you.”

  All the prisoners were sitting as far back on their benches as they could get. Some were muttering prayers to the Sea Gods.

  “She most assuredly is not a goddess,” Father agreed. “She ran to Kausalya to escape judgment for her crimes here in Caere. And now she wants her revenge.”

  Vatar stepped back toward the door. He’d learned everything he needed to know. And now he had an idea that just might end this fight—at least here.

  Once they were all outside, the guards locked the cell door again.

  “They spoke the truth,” the Sooth Teller said, appearing shaken. “That is, they believe what they said.”

  Vatar nodded. He hadn’t really needed the Sooth Teller to confirm that.

  “What now?” Father asked.

  “Now, I think we need to call a meeting of the Full Council. There just might be a way to use this. But I don’t think the Fasallon are going to like it much. How long do you think that will take?”

  Father rubbed his chin. “It will take time to gather the guild masters. Later tonight, perhaps. Or tomorrow morning.”

  “Make it tonight, if you can.”

  Vatar! Thekila called through their bond. The Kausalyan ships are forming up. It looks like there about to try again.

  I’ll be right there. Vatar started back toward the stairs at a jog. “It’s starting again. I have to go now.”

  Father ran alongside him. “It’ll take too long to get to the batteries.”

  Vatar shook his head. “Not for me. I intend to fly.”

  As soon as they’d exited the doors of the Palace, Vatar called on the shape of the eagle again. Father made a strangled sound at the sight. Smiling was impossible, but Vatar bobbed once, a sort of birdish bow, then spread his wings and leapt into the air, heading for the headland and Thekila.

  Chapter 13: The Battle Continues

  Vatar landed at a little distance from the catapults and released his concentration, returning to human shape. A couple of the Caereans gasped and took a step back, but Vatar didn’t have time to worry about that right now. “What’s happening?”

  Thekila pointed out beyond the bay. “See for yourself.”

  The Kausalyan fleet sailed toward the harbor again, this time in single file, to keep as near to the center—and as far from the catapults as possible. They didn’t know that there were two more catapults that hadn’t been fired yet, facing in toward the harbor mouth. The catapult across on the island wouldn’t be able to help with this configuration. Or, not unless part of the fleet broke to the north, anyway.

  Vatar waited for the first ship to come abreast of that second catapult. “Now!” He spoke it aloud at the same time he sent the same one word by Far Speech to Teran on the opposite headland. The first ship crumbled into splinters at the dual impact.

  Immediately, the catapults began to shake.

  Thekila’s eyes narrowed on the metal portion of the catapult. “They’re trying to pull the catapults down with their Powers—their magic!”

  They’d expected the Exiles to try this. Though Vatar hadn’t expected that they’d succeed. Nevertheless, they’d prepared for it. And that was partly what Thekila and, on the opposite bluff, Teran and Terania were here for. They used their Power of distant manipulation to counter the Exiles’ temporarily.

  “Screens up!” Vatar commanded, sending the same to Teran through Far Speech.

  The Caereans raised the woven grass screens that had been prepared on two sides of the catapults, hiding them from view from below, but leaving enough room for them to continue firing. They just needed someone standing beyond the screen to tell them when to fire.

  “What good are these flimsy things?” one of the Caerean crew asked. “There’re holes big enough to put two fingers through.”

  Vatar answered without taking his eyes off the ships below. “They can’t use their magic—that kind of magic—on anything they can’t see.”

  The man’s brow furrowed. “Then why don’t they just use their magic on the screens first?”

  Vatar smiled. “Because those holes you were complaining about make them too insubstantial to get a good grip on with their magic from that far away. More solid things are easier.”

  “Ah.”

  Vatar glanced back at Thekila, who was breathing a little heavier. He remembered moving the rocks that had blocked the shipping channel a couple of years ago. Some of that had only been possible because their bond allowed Thekila to work together with him in a way that wasn’t possible for most magic. That couldn’t be the case with the Exiles. “Though, I’d have thought the catapults were too heavy for most of them to move that way.”

  Thekila grinned up at him. “Easier to pull something down that to lift it up.”

  “Oh.” Well that made sense.

  Three more ships were sunk as he watched. Two by the catapults. One tried to speed past the battery only to run hard against the heavy chain that was still up across the mouth of the harbor. And two ships had their masts splintered before the fleet once again retreated out of range and dropped anchor.

  “Is that it?” the Caerean asked.

  Vatar bit his lip. “Too soon to tell. I guess we’ll wait until dusk. If nothing happens by then, we’ll leave a few watchers to keep an eye on the Kausalyan fleet.”

  He led Thekila a little away, to a quiet spot where they could rest until they were needed again.

  “So, what did you find out?” Thekila asked.

  Vatar sighed. “Gerusa has apparently persuaded at least some of the Kausalyans that she’s a goddess in her own right. They think she’s come to use them to purge some corruption of the Sea Gods’ legacy here in Caere. A religious crusade. But . . . I think I may have a way to use that against her—if the Council approves. Hopefully Father can get the Council together tonight.”

  Chapter 14: Truth is the Best Weapon

  Vatar sat back while Father explained what they’d learned in their interrogation of the captured sailors. It wasn’t that late, yet. But he’d had a long and busy day. And, if he got his way, it wasn’t quite over yet.

  “I don’t see why you called us here to tell us that,” the Merchants’ Guild Master complained. “I’m sure there are more important things to concern ourselves with right now.”

  Vatar forced himself alert and leaned forward. “Because I think we can use this. Possibly to put an end to the blockade.”

  “How?” the Smiths’ Guild Master asked.

  Vatar drew a deep breath. “When the Lie first became widely known in Caere, there was resentment among the Caereans. Even boiling over into a few scattered acts of violence. There still is, in some parts of the city. It probably would have been worse if we hadn’t had this crisis to pull us back together. If those sailors also learned about the Lie—and Gerusa’s more personal lie—and then were allowed to escape back to their ships to spread the word, I think something similar would happen in that fleet. And eventually in Kausalya, once they got back home.”

  Montibeus slapped his hands down on the table. “Absolutely not! It’s bad enough that you revealed the Lie here. If that information spreads—”

  “But you can’t keep it from spreading,” Vatar interrupted him. “By now, the merchants and the sailors on the Caerean ships have almost certainly carried the word north. And, if they don’t know it already, it won’t be long before it reaches Tysoe, too. Even Gerusa can’t keep Kausalya from hearing about it eventually. But it’s to our advantage if they find out about it right now. The only reason those sailors are risking their ships and their lives to attack Caere is because Gerusa has sold them an even bigger lie. If they refuse to use their ships against us now . . . well, can the Exiles hope to sail those ships without the Kausalyan sailors?”

  He looked at the Merchants’ and Fishermen’s Guild Masters. “Assume those sailors are just like the men on your ships. What would happen if that news suddenly spread among the crews?”

  The Fishermen’s Guild Master rubbed his
chin. He cast a quick glance across the table at Montibeus. “My sailors wouldn’t take it at all well. I don’t know if they’d go as far as throwing the Fasallon overboard, but they sure wouldn’t take any more orders from them.”

  “How much would these Exiles know about sailing a ship?” the Merchants’ Guild Master asked.

  Vatar drew in a deep breath. “A few might know something about boats. There’s a lake where they come from. Smaller than Lake Narycea by Tysoe, but large enough. They don’t use anything like your ships, though.”

  “And a lake is not the ocean,” the Merchants’ Guild Master said. After a short pause he went on, “If inexperienced men tried to sail those ships, they would almost certainly sink at least some of them. On submerged rocks. In a storm.” He chuckled dryly. “Or just trying to dock them. They’d certainly never get safely through into the bay, even without that chain across the mouth. The cleared shipping channel isn’t that wide.”

  Vatar nodded. “That’s what I thought. So, if we make sure that some of those captured sailors learn the truth and then allow them to escape back to their fleet, our immediate problem might be solved.” It wouldn’t, of course, put an end to the threat the Exiles and their Themyri conscripts posed. Well, one thing at a time. It might, just possibly, put an end to any further danger from Gerusa, at least.

  “And then our fleet can get back to fishing,” the Fishermen’s Guild Master said.

  “And ours can get back to trading with Chrysaor and Tesserae to the north. And working on that new road to Tysoe,” the Merchants’ Guild Master said.

  “And my farmers can go back to their fields,” the Farmers’ Guild Master added.