He wasn’t sure what to think. They both made good points, depending on the enemy’s level of commitment. Obviously, the empire wanted to expand, and annex Reton to claim the whole of the northwest of the continent, but the empire was also patient. They’d been expansionists for many generations, and he knew sometimes the timing for war would be better served by waiting a generation.
General Hal held the first point of view, “You’re assuming they haven’t committed, but an offensive sortie through another pass, and on their infrastructure and supplies, will work in either scenario. They’ll see were strong and back off, committed or not. Merely holding the line, only works if you’re right about their intentions not being set in stone.”
General Anson shook his head, “Except, if they’re just testing us, and we sortie, that could stiffen their spines and make them fear counter invasion. They have a lot more troops, and they can move them all to our southern border.”
General Hal snorted, “If they did that, their newly conquered territories would rebel.”
It was also obvious to him, though the queen was supremely confident about many things, and in her rule when it came to her people, she was also indecisive when it came to how to win the war, or at least put an end to it for a time.
He was glad it wasn’t his decision.
The queen asked, “General Anson, what would you suggest?”
He said, “A small fast-moving company would do the best behind enemy lines, with orders not to engage large forces. They’d move through one of the two passes surrounding Sleek pass, and then take on slash and burn missions. Crops, wagon trains of supplies, that kind of thing. It’d make things very uncomfortable for the enemy army if we foul their logistics.”
She asked, “Hal?”
General Hal said, “That’s what I would do as well, if the enemy is committed to an all or nothing war. They haven’t convinced me of that yet.”
She tilted her head, “And what would it take to convince you? Them attacking through several passes? Or after they break through and burn Sleekpass to the ground?”
General Hal flushed, “It’s only been three days since the thrust started, your majesty. I think if they’re still trying to break through a week or two from now, that would be proof enough this isn’t a simple test of arms and we should follow general Anson’s advice. This one battle could be the decision maker for them, either way. But if we start burning out farmers, and killing their blacksmiths and merchant caravans, it could force their hand to commit to a long bloody war, simply as a matter of honor. A foolish reason to war perhaps, but history shows the empire can be like that.
“I think showing a little patience for a week of holding fast, and our soldiers will hold that pass, could possibly save a lot of lives in the long run. If I’m wrong, we lose very little, and can go on the offensive in two weeks.”
Anson snorted, but held his tongue when the queen stared him down.
Delphine said, “Hold the course for now. I’ll give it one week. Sorry for the pointed question general, but I wanted your unvarnished advice.”
Anson opened his mouth, but Delphine held up her hand, and he closed it.
Delphine continued, “I also want you to make arrangements and plans, set up those small companies, one at each of the three remaining easily accessible passes. If the enemy changes tactics, grows more aggressive somewhere else, or the fighting grows worse, I’ll authorize them to go early. In short, get it all ready, but hold them on our side of the passes until the word is given, understood?”
Anson nodded.
Delphine said, “I’m willing to spend a week’s time, and very little else, to bet on Hal being right.”
Anson replied, “I understand, and it will be done, your majesty.”
Delphine nodded, “Now, what news of our scouts to the east?”
Anson reported, “No change. I don’t think they’ll start a war with us, not unless we start losing badly.”
Hal agreed, “Their mages have never been as strong as ours, and if they weaken us, they could wind up being surrounded on all sides by the empire.”
That was interesting information he hadn’t heard of before, and he wondered why Reton’s mages were stronger. So much so he almost opened his mouth and asked, but he caught himself before he did so.
Chapter Five
It was almost a perfect moment. She felt so good in his arms, and her lips were so soft against his, and he was inundated by her feminine and alluring scent. When they broke the kiss, they both smiled widely.
It was early evening, and the royal family was together for dinner. As promised, they were all getting little breaks in the evening, an hour each for five of them at a time, while the other five guarded all three, with the royal guards of course. It was an important thing he was coming to realize, being able to decompress for a few minutes a day and let down their guards. It would make them more efficient in the long run.
He stared into her sparkling cerulean eyes, and he made no move to let her out of his embrace. He had it bad for the love of his life.
“Hi.”
She giggled, “Hi back. This is harder than I thought it’d be, but still better than being away from you so often.”
He nodded, “Keeping quiet isn’t easy.”
She snickered, and teased, “At least I didn’t laugh at the queen.”
He cleared his throat, “Laugh, at the queen’s, joke. A subtle but important distinction.”
She grinned, “Sure it is.”
He kissed her again, doing a rather thorough job of it, then changed the subject, “Dreston mages are weaker?”
She tilted her head, “I suppose I can let that go, did you think to dazzle me with that kiss, so I’d stop teasing you?”
He laughed, “Maybe?”
She giggled, “Yes. We don’t know why. Though there’s been a lot of speculation it’s the towers somehow. The towers are teaming with their own magic, and permanent spells, as you know and feel when we’re at home. Even if that’s right, we don’t know the cause of it, neither how the spells are possible, nor why our mages grow stronger.
“Their mages go through a similar length growth period, and they continue to grow their whole lives as they practice, just not as quickly as we do as far as the magic gains. Their high-end mages are about equal to our average ones, and their average ones are about equal to a nine-month apprentice with twelve or more doubling growth weeks left to go.”
He smirked, “So, I’m still the weakest full mage ever on the planet.”
She snorted, “Only because your growth period isn’t over. You’re actually on the mid to high end of average that way, if things prove out at the same rate.”
She paused, and then smirked, “You’ll just never be as strong as me.”
He laughed, not caring all that much about it. Even glad she’d be the one taking over the tower, sometime in the far future he hoped, Cassandra was still young. His ambitions lay in other directions, and he thought he’d wind up strangling the other tower mages if he got stuck in council meetings all the time. He was a patient man in a lot of ways, but not when it came to politics.
“Vemor’s mages?”
She nodded, “Similar to us, and as far as we know they don’t have towers similar to ours either. They have several mage schools, one in each province. That argues it’s not our towers, but perhaps it is whatever makes our towers able to have permanent magic.”
That information he very much cared about, he was curious, to know the truth of it. That seemed unlikely, however. Even if he got access to the underground rooms one day, any proof would be indirect at best. He wondered why the mystics of the past had kept it a secret, because surely they’d known the truth of it.
Of course, the best way to keep a pile of gold safe was simply to keep it a secret. Then it’d be safe under the bed in a canvas sack, if no one knew it was there, no one would try to steal it. If the world knew that secret, perhaps mages from other kingdoms would be constantl
y trying to unseat them and claim their home. It was the only explanation he could imagine. That, or a similar reason, to keep their own mages in line.
She said, “I’m hoping the next mission takes us south, so I can introduce you to my parents. It’s doubtful though, new mages and apprentice mages don’t get to go to war zones, as a rule.”
He nodded, “Either way, just a couple of more months.”
Her face darkened, “Assuming the war ends. The council might extend my parents’ mission, rather than risk a change of authority mid-war.”
He caressed her face, and then ran his hands through her silken blonde hair. She calmed slightly, but he could tell she was still worried. There was nothing he could really do about that though, outside of be there.
He had a leap of thought in his mind.
“The strongest mages, like you, on the high end of power, were they all raised in the towers?”
She frowned, “I’m not sure. I think so. Everyone on the council is above average like me, master level power in their twenties and beyond that. It’s one of the reasons they were elected by their guild when the opening came up. There’re maybe twenty others like me, outside of the council, a small percentage of the six hundred mages. A lot more than that grew up in the tower, which would be almost half of us. That definitely contradicts that theory as a full answer, but us growing up and living at the towers may be one of the reasons.
“Another commonality they… we have, is two mage parents. But there’s a lot of average mages from that too. There’s no definitive difference in how we were raised or where, not that we know of, so it spawns a lot of speculation, and not many answers. Personally, I think it’s both of those things, some mages are just born with more magic potential, a fortuitous genetic pairing by chance, and the towers and magic there ensure that stronger magic is developed and not wasted. I couldn’t prove it though.”
He said, “Not all siblings have equal power though.”
She shrugged, “The queen’s daughter has her blue eyes, while the prince takes after his father with green. Genetic chance, maybe only one in four children will have the capacity of greater magic from any couple capable of producing one in the first place.”
He nodded, “You lost me. Genetic?”
She grinned impishly, “The shared library. You should read more, ignorant village boy.”
He snorted, “Yes, maam.”
She sighed softly, “I love you, Olin. So much it scares me at times, even as it fills my heart with joy.”
He grinned, “Even if I’m an ignorant…” he broke off as she stepped on his foot, hard.
“That was a moment,” she informed him dryly.
He laughed, “Love you too, Lia.”
She smirked, “You’re the smartest man I know, Olin. Your grasp of our magic is better than most in their thirties. Ignorance is fixable, stupidity isn’t. You know I was just teasing, anyway.”
He nodded, “I know. I love that about you, it keeps me honest. Plus, life is never dull with you around.”
She snickered, “What do you think of Karina and Carolynn.”
He tilted his head, “They’re good people, if it wasn’t for the rules, they might make good friends. As it is, I think they’re good allies, even if they’re not all that sure about us because of how young we are. I think it helps that the life, water, and earth towers have always been closer allies to the rune tower.”
The death, fire, and air towers not so much, but even death and air shared some common ground. He wondered if the fire element and mages were just more disposed to runaway ambitions, but he doubted it was that simple, he suspected it was just the way Tanner led them. Life was messy, and simple absolute theories were almost always wrong.
She nodded, “Agreed. Keeping up with your practice?”
He replied, “So far, yes.”
For the rest of the hour off, they focused on more personal things. They even managed a few words on occasion, between the kissing and staring into one another’s eyes. He never did let her out of his arms on their break, and she didn’t seem to mind that fact in the least.
The rest of his first week followed a similar schedule. Up at the crack of dawn for the princess’s sword practice. Followed by breakfast, morning court, lunch, afternoon war room and more court, dinner with a break, and then back on duty even as things wound down in the evening and they sought out their beds. He also kept up with his magic practice, the last thing he wanted to do was sabotage his own magical growth.
He’d wondered if being away from the tower would have its own effect, but it didn’t seem like it, as he’d doubled in power again over that first week. Though it was a rather subjective measurement. Perhaps it was simply because the castle was so close to the towers. He did worry about next month, what if they were assigned something far away, and his growth suffered as a result?
The ladies had only bathed twice so far, kicking him out of the main room both times during that week, otherwise they used spells to keep themselves and their robes clean and presentable. He hadn’t bothered at all, figuring it was easier to use magic than to bother kicking the three ladies out of the room.
The hour a day they got off definitely helped, but it wasn’t enough. Which was probably why it was a month-long assignment only. He imagined after another three weeks he’d be completely strung out and stressed out. The royal guards on the other hand were numerous, and had three shifts, so there was plenty of down time for them to recharge.
He wondered why they didn’t just assign twenty mages in two shifts, or thirty in three, but then decided having one-month assignments meant only ten mages guarding the queen and her children, instead of thirty. Plus, it was part of the incentive to make the top ten in the competitions, the top thirty just didn’t have as nice a ring to it.
A single month wouldn’t be too bad though, even with limited time off. It also kept less mages tied up with keeping the royal family safe, and in having them available for other missions. So it made sense from that angle.
The fighting at Sleekpass hadn’t gotten any worse, but neither had the enemy lessened the pressure of their attacks by one iota. As the week deadline closed in, it started to seem more and more likely that the queen would give the go ahead to counterattack behind enemy lines. He also thought the enemy couldn’t be stupid, and must have some other plan they’d launch eventually, because the pass’s defenses, soldiers, and mages appeared to be able to hold indefinitely from the reports he’d heard every afternoon.
Doing the same thing over and over, and expecting a different result, was insane.
All the death was senseless, or so it seemed to him. Why weren’t they content with what they had? Ambition made people stupid, at least when it wasn’t tempered by compassion.
His own ambitions? He wasn’t all that sure to be honest. He’d been living from day to day the last almost eight months, just a week short of that, outside of his ambition to marry the sexiest and smartest rune mage in existence.
He’d had life plans before, aspirations and ambitions to build a reputation and business as a blacksmith, and to start a family with Celane as soon as he had the coin to court her. The abrupt change in his life at discovering he was a rune mage had temporarily short circuited his own ambitious personality. In essence, he’d dove into his new life with a single-minded ferocity to learn, only to drown out that loss, of not only his lost future, but his mistaken beliefs that his life was ever truly under his control.
The last seven months, he’d been meeting goals of education, and trying to accept his new life. Lia of course, weighed heavily in that for the last six months. In short, his ambition was starting to wake up again, but he honestly wasn’t sure where to direct it. Personally, that was easy enough, into Lia, and the future he hoped to have with her. Handfasting, family, children, but that wasn’t enough, he needed a professional ambition to focus on.
He had no political ambitions at all, never had. Perhaps one advantage to growing up in a small v
illage. He wasn’t stupid, he knew political power was effective, he just wasn’t interested in it.
Even if he had been, he knew he wasn’t suited for the ugly parts of being a tower master, and he wasn’t strong enough magically besides. Part of his ambition was to become a blade master in truth, not just with the enhancements of magic to give him an edge over others. The other was to build his magic as strong as he could.
As far as magic itself, he already understood everything he was allowed to, and he wasn’t holding his breath on being given access to the sub-floors of the towers to do research. He also didn’t think making new spells they didn’t really need was a good risk, the dangers far outweighed the advantages in giving up his secret.
Besides, magical experimentation was outlawed, literally against the law.
But… all of those things in his professional life were less ambitions, and more survival skills and goals. He had no real choice, not if he didn’t want to court death more than was necessary. He had no choice at all as far as being a mage, and in serving in missions for the royal family and the council of mages who served under the queen. It was for all intents and purposes, a compulsory job, a step short of slavery simply because he was being paid a monthly stipend.
That he thought the job was worth doing, and necessary, was quite beside the point. He didn’t hate his new life, not at all, he enjoyed it. But, that didn’t solve his problem. He needed something more to focus that ambition on, and he started to feel a little trapped.
Not in his personal life, but in his forced profession. His personal life had plenty of ambitions that flowed from his own soul, rather than the laws, traditions, and rules. Be a good father, and good husband to Lia if they went the distance as he rather suspected and hoped they would. The personal side wasn’t the problem, and he felt a little selfish for wanting more.
He supposed he needed to come to terms with it, because it wouldn’t change. Perhaps he just needed a hobby that set him apart, let him excel in his new world. He certainly felt useful, both professionally and personally, there was pride and a good feeling in that. It wasn’t an empty pursuit, but there was nothing to extend himself toward in his professional life, it had all been mapped out and decided for him. Sure, it wasn’t easy, and it took effort, but that was simple survival.
Rune Mage: The Rune Mystic: Book Two Page 4
