War of Magic (Dual Magics Book 4)

by Meredith Mansfield

  Nertan smiled. He’d been giving that very problem some thought. “I think that may be something our Themyri friends can help us with. In fact, I think we need to get some information from them now.” He nodded to Loran. “Go bring in that fellow that pretends to be their leader. He’ll know if any of them do.”

  When the squat, filthy man was brought in, Nertan braced himself to question him. Dragging intelligible answers from any of the Themyri required great patience. “Gylfi, do you know how to find the Dardani on the plains at midsummer?”

  Gylfi shook his head truculently. “Bad to go during summer. The horsemen are more than the Themyri. Raids much better in spring or autumn, when horsemen scattered.”

  Nertan narrowed his eyes in thought. It was already too late to mount this campaign in the spring. And, if they waited until autumn, there was too great a chance they wouldn’t be able to cross the Forest before the Pass closed. No. Anyway, whatever inferiority Gylfi feared would be more than offset by the Exiles. “We’re not planning a raid. And that doesn’t answer my question. Do you know how to find them?”

  Gylfi nodded reluctantly. “Can find.”

  “How long would it take to get there from here?” Nertan asked.

  “Gylfi never crossed plains from here.”

  Nertan drew in a deep breath of patience and let it out slowly. “All right. If you were back in the Land between the Rivers, how long would it take?”

  Gylfi touched his thumb to his other fingers twice before answering. “Six, seven days to walk from river to place where Dardani gather.”

  Nertan nodded. “And it took us eight days to reach here from that mountain pass, which was about two and a half days south of that northern river, at a guess.” He placed his right hand on a point on that river and his left at a point somewhere he figured to be about seven days walk north of it. Then moved his right hand to Kausalya, measuring the distances with his eye. “So, at a guess, it’s about eight or nine days from here.”

  Gylfi shook his head. “Don’t know the way from here.”

  “Well, it’s not too difficult to calculate the course from this. You can guide us more precisely when we get close.”

  Gylfi shook his head more decisively. “Can’t cross plains when don’t know where to find water.”

  Nertan narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like this defiance. On the other hand, they’d certainly need water. The disgusting little man wasn’t wrong about that. “All right then, we retrace our course to a spot north of the river—and well beyond those irritating outposts that stymied us before. Then you can lead us north by the route you know. That will work, won’t it?”

  Gylfi nodded unhappily. “Can.”

  Nertan measured the distances again. “That looks like about eight or nine days going east and another six or seven north. For a total of no more than sixteen days. And it’s not even summer yet. We have plenty of time to plan. We wouldn’t want to arrive before Vatar gets there and risk missing him, after all. And that will still leave more than enough time to reach the Pass before the snow closes it for the winter.” He nodded to Loran to remove Gylfi from their presence.

  “How will we defeat these Dardani if there are more of them than of the Themyri, as Gylfi says?” one of the other Exiles asked.

  “By the natural superiority granted by our Powers, same as we did the Themyri. That was the Fasallon’s mistake. Relying on some lie they told the Kausalyans—and apparently all the other city-dwellers, too—instead of their own ascendency. When the Kausalyans found out, naturally it made them doubt the preeminence of their proper lords. Whereas, if their rule had been based on their Powers all along, as ours is and will be, their subordinates could never have doubted it. Of course, our Powers are superior to theirs.” He frowned. “We may have to offer to bolster Gerusa’s rule here with some of our more visible Powers until we get what we need from her.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Weapons. Supplies. We’ll want to eat on this march, I think. Some means of transporting those supplies.” Nertan stared at the map again for a moment. “Hmm. If we’re going to go on to the Valley after conquering these Dardani, we probably should have the women and children join us first. That way we won’t be slowed down nearly as much.”

  “I’ll go!” Loran volunteered.

  Nertan smiled and clapped his son on the shoulder. “I understand your eagerness, lad. But you’re one of our best riders. I can’t spare you for this.”

  Loran sagged back in his seat sullenly.

  “But, hmm, we’ll have to bring the women west of that lake for some distance. Then we can get the Kausalyans to ferry them across to meet up with us. It’ll only take a few days longer than if you went yourself before you’ll be with your bride.” Nertan smiled at his son. “I don’t see why you shouldn’t be the first to cross in one of those barges the Kausalyans use on the river.”

  He tapped his finger on the map. “We’ll bring the ballista up with the women, too. Just in case of any meddling, spying wyvern avatars. It might make an impression on the Dardani, too, come to think of it.” He looked up at the assembled men. “Meanwhile, the first step is to move this camp to the north side of this river, on the far side of Kausalya. Let’s get to it.”

  Chapter 20: Zeda

  As they started out onto the plains proper, Vatar turned to look over the expanded group he led and make sure everything was in order. Quetza had reported days ago that the Exiles had not only disembarked from the Kausalyan ships, but had moved their camp to the northern shore of the Gna River, just opposite Kausalya. From her fly-overs, they didn’t appear to be in a hurry to move on from there—yet. Vatar didn’t understand what held them back from the obvious next move, but he didn’t for a moment doubt they intended to cross the plains—a move that was almost guaranteed to bring them much too close to the Dardani. Once on the north side of the river, the Tysoean outposts could no longer prevent the Exiles from marching wherever they wanted.

  It was early for this crossing. The spring grasses barely reached the horses’ hocks, not at all like the tall grasses they usually rode through. Still, he’d have started earlier if he could. Despite his urgency to warn Pa of the danger, assembling this group had taken more than a seven-day after he judged the route to Zeda would be passable for the horses.

  Under the circumstances, Vatar was glad of the ten experienced men of the Palace Guard sent along as escort to the new Fasallon emissary to the Valson. Ten men who not only knew how to fight, but also knew how to train others. Considering Theklan’s report of his struggles to teach a selection of his fellow students, that could only be a good thing. Their unfamiliarity with the plains didn’t appear to be interfering with their discipline. They might not travel as fast as Vatar would like, but at least they’d be well-protected.

  Even Miceus seemed to be doing unexpectedly well—so far. That had been a surprise. Vatar would never have expected his stammering, self-effacing, timid half-brother to volunteer to be the emissary to the Valson. He’d thought Miceus most at home in his job in the Archives, surrounded by old scrolls and books. Then again, apart from Thekila, Theklan, and Quetza, most of the Valson he’d ever met tended toward bookishness, too. Certainly if Teran and Terania were anything to go by. And even Thekila and Quetza could get drawn into long, and sometimes technical, discussions of an intellectual topic they found interesting. So maybe Miceus would fit right in.

  The rest of the party was accustomed to this crossing. Arcas, of course, currently riding to the rear to prevent stragglers as well as leading the expanded pack train. Not just gear and supplies for so many, but also the supplies needed for Vatar to begin training other Dardani smiths. Teran riding next to Miceus, returning to the Valley temporarily to report to the Valson Council. Terania had opted to stay in Caere and continue teaching, which at least reduced the party by one. And Thekila riding with baby Taleara in a Dardani-style sling. Zavar and Savara rode on their own ponies to either side of her. Two-year-old Jadar was currentl
y perched in front of Vatar, frequently bouncing and babbling semi-intelligibly as he pointed at some—to him—new sight. A far-off herd of antelope or a flight of birds. He’d been young enough, last time, to sleep for most of the journey—as Taleara was no doubt doing now. Of his family, only Taleara had never been on the plains before. None of the guards had, of course. Or Miceus.

  Who knew? Maybe Miceus’s report of the recent Exile attack on Caere, supplemented by Teran’s first-hand account, would convince the Valson Council to take steps to defend the Valley. Or, better yet, send some help to make sure the Exiles never got that far. Or both. One could hope. That would be worth the few extra days’ delay.

  At least they weren’t also shepherding Miceus’s wife, Athra, or their three—no, four, now—young children. There’d been an awful few days while Miceus actually considered bringing them along. Thankfully, he’d decided that his family would be safer in Caere, for now.

  As Vatar started to turn back to look ahead, a shape caught his eye. A glossy black shape flying above Savara. Vatar’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t really need to be able to tell one bird from another to know that this was the same raven Savara had healed. After all the bird had followed her down into the city to Uncle Lanark’s. Now it appeared to be following her out onto the plains. Well, maybe it’d get lost out here. Or maybe it’d find another raven of the opposite sex—whichever that was—and decide to stay. He could hope, but he didn’t really think so.

  In any case, it was time to look forward and try to get this parade to Zeda, all in one piece, and as quickly as possible.

  ~

  Five days later, Vatar finally led the whole cavalcade into the village—really six semi-separate villages—clustered on the eastern shore of the Zeda waterhole. The crossing hadn’t taken that many days since the last time he’d made the trip with Avaza when she was heavily pregnant with the twins. Vatar shuddered at the memory. At least no one had been that difficult to deal with this time. And they were here, at last.

  From the activity, he could tell that the Eagle Clan had just arrived at the summer gathering place. It looked like a couple of clans—Horse and Bear—hadn’t arrived yet. But the Lion Clan enclave was already well established despite the early season. Good. He could find Pa and pass on the warning just as soon as he got this group settled.

  While Thekila took the children and went to set up their own hut, Vatar led the guards and Miceus to a level space just beyond the last huts of the Lion Clan village. As soon as they’d off-loaded their gear and started to set up their camp, he led the horses back to the nearest herd and released them to graze under the care of the Dardani herdsmen. Arcas was already there, turning out the pack horses that had carried Vatar’s forge supplies and the trade goods, so they walked back to the village together. They split up as they passed between the low sod huts, Arcas to temporary residence in the clan’s bachelor hut and Vatar to help Thekila set up the hut their family would share while they were here. No one would expect that those huts could house the tall Dardani, until they realized that the huts were dug into the ground for insulation and the sod stacked up to form the remaining walls.

  As he approached his hut, he saw that the leather roof covering was already raised above the sod walls. Thekila would not have been able to do that by herself—at least not without magic. And she knew better than to use magic in the open here. His clan brothers must have set that up. All that remained was to open the roof vents to let in air and light. He did that and then left Thekila to lay out the grass mats and bedrolls that would turn the spare interior into their summer home while he went in search of Pa.

  He found his stepfather assisting with the gentling of the young horses. The wild foal—a yearling, now—Theklan and the other young men had brought in as their manhood test was among them. Though, of course, no one would try to ride him. Still, accustoming him to being around people was a critical part of the plan to breed that leopard-spotted coat into the Dardani herds. “The wild foal’s doing well, I see.”

  “Very well.” Pa turned to Vatar. “You’re here early. The clans haven’t all arrived yet. You can’t be planning to start training new smiths quite yet.”

  Vatar grimaced at the reminder. He didn’t really need that extra work this summer of all times, but he was honor-bound. He’d promised to train six new Dardani smiths—one from each clan—in return for permission to build a road across Dardani territory from Caere to Tysoe. Apparently not everyone was pleased that there was only one Dardani who knew how to work iron and steel. “No, though I’ll need to start on that as soon as I reasonably can, since the training is going to have to be interrupted for at least a couple of seven-days. But mostly it’s urgent that I let you know what’s happening.” Vatar glanced around. If there was a worse time to trigger the Dardani’s superstitious fear of anything to do with magic, he couldn’t imagine it. “Privately.”

  Pa’s eyebrows rose, but he nodded and led Vatar back to the family hut occupied by Pa and Mother, as well as Vatar’s younger half-siblings, Kiara and Fenar.

  Vatar hugged his mother and sister in greeting before addressing himself to Fenar. At only a year older than Zavar and Savara, the little boy was too young to understand the concept of secrecy. “Fenar, Zavar and Savara are at my hut with Thekila. Why don’t you go play with them?”

  Fenar ran off happily.

  “What’s up, Vatar?” Mother asked. “Trouble?”

  Vatar nodded ruefully. “Unfortunately.” He settled down cross-legged on the woven grass mats and summarized the events of the last few months in Caere. “We turned them away from Caere, but now the Exiles and the Themyri are on this side of the Gna River. The Tysoean Guard can’t hold them back any more.”

  “You think they’re headed this way?” Pa asked.

  Vatar shook his head. “Too soon to tell. Quetza is doing her best, but . . . her avatar is pretty conspicuous and they know who she is. And they’ve made themselves more powerful bows. She has to fly so high that she can only get a general impression. Right now, they’re camped just north of Kausalya. I don’t know what they’re waiting for, but they can’t mean to stay there.”

  “What do you think they’ll do?” Mother asked.

  “We know from Zoria that their main goal is to return to the Valley in force and take over there. I . . . I don’t know whether it’s just my greatest worry or Fore Sight . . . That I can’t tell probably means it’s just me. But I have a feeling that they mean to come this way and add the Dardani to their conscripted army.”

  “They won’t find us as easy to conquer as the Themyri,” Pa said.

  Vatar shook his head. “Pa, they’re likely to fight with magic, at least in part. That . . . that could be fatal for the Dardani, with their terror of anything to do with magic.”

  Mother drew in a breath. “What can we do about that?”

  “I . . . don’t know yet. I’ve been trying to think of a plan. In the defense of Caere, we had a pretty good guess what kind of magic they’d use, so we could prepare to counter it. Here . . . I don’t know what they’ll do. They’ve used fire at least once, too. That’s non-magical, but no less deadly.” Vatar paused and blew out a breath. “Then, too, in Caere I didn’t have to worry about hiding my magic. Not that all Caereans are entirely comfortable about magic, but they don’t have any superstitious terrors to overcome, either. Among the Dardani . . . I want to continue keeping that secret if I can.” I desperately want that. I don’t want to lose my home among the Dardani.

  Vatar paused before voicing his greatest fear, but Pa needed to know what they might be up against. “The worst thing . . . the Exiles’ magic will allow them to take other forms. Bear and Wolf for sure. Lion and Horse almost certainly. What would happen to a cadre of Lion Clan—or Bear or Wolf—if they were suddenly confronted with what looked like their totem Spirit leading their enemies?”

  There was a long moment of silence. No one needed to answer that question. They all knew the answer, but no one wanted to sa
y it. The Dardani were too conditioned—not only to fear magic, that would be bad enough—but also to revere their totem Spirits. Even with foreknowledge, they wouldn’t be able to bring themselves to attack the likeness of those Spirits.

  “Could we warn them about the Exiles’ magic?” Kiara asked. “That way at least they’d be prepared.”

  Vatar rubbed the back of his neck. “I . . . don’t know.” He blew out a breath and looked at his father. “Maybe that’s a question you should ask Baraz. After what happened with Theklan last year, I’d rather not be the one to bring it up.” The new shaman had not reacted well to witnessing Theklan’s magical outburst. Vatar really didn’t want to be the one to draw Baraz’s attention in anything regarding magic unless he had no choice.

  Pa shifted uncomfortably. “No matter what Baraz says, we can’t do much before all the clans arrive. It’ll require all the chiefs—maybe a full tribal council—to decide how to deal with this. But I’ll talk to the chiefs who are here. We can at least send out scouts to warn us if the Exiles get too close to us. Maybe there’s a way to avoid the confrontation.”

  Vatar breathed out. He very much doubted that the Exiles would allow the Dardani to simply retreat. But knowledge of the enemy’s movements was always useful. “That’s a good idea. But . . . make sure they go in groups and don’t get too close. If they were to see any of the Exiles’ magic and spread the word back here . . .”

  There was no need to finish that sentence. Everyone was silent again for a moment.

  When the silence became oppressive, Pa asked, “So, why is your training of the new smiths going to be interrupted?”

  “Oh. I . . . we’ll have to go back to the Valley at some point. The Fasallon sent an envoy—and guard escort—to the Valson. And, anyway, we have to go get Theklan, too.”

  “Is his training finished?” Kiara asked eagerly.

  “He’s done very well, from what I understand. And he’s finding it very difficult to fit back into his old role at the Academy. He’s used to being treated more like an adult. Their restrictions chafe. Anyway, he’ll want to do his part to help fight the Exiles—especially if they come against the Dardani.”