The Mage-Fire War

by Modesitt. Jr. , L. E.

  “We’re turning east.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  The two rode past the junction with the road that led to Hydolar and then almost another kay when Beltur saw a vulcrow briefly circle, then drop behind a low hill about half a kay ahead, in turn less than a few hundred yards from the road heading north to Weevett. From what he recalled, the area behind the hill and bordering the Weevett road was uneven ground with a mixture of scrub, grass, and trees, marginally suitable for sheep.

  By the time they reached the hill, which turned out to be a long low rise, Beltur could sense several large birds on the ground on the far side. Vulcrows. As Taasn had pointed out earlier, vulcrows only scavenged large animals. After a deep breath, Beltur announced, “We’re going to ride through that land to the left up through the bushes to see what’s on the other side.”

  “Ser?”

  “Vulcrows are scavenging something. I’d like to know what.” Beltur turned off the road and guided Slowpoke and Graalur and his mount between the bushes and up the gentle slope, avoiding the scattered trees.

  “Can all mages see through hills?”

  “I can’t see through hills. I can sense what’s beyond them for a short distance. Some mages can. Others can’t. All of the mages in Haven can sense for some distance.” Even if Taelya can only sense a hundred yards or so.

  “You knew we were headed to that hamlet?”

  “I knew you were headed north on that side road. I thought you had to be heading for a stead or hamlet. There wasn’t any other reason for you to be on a back track, otherwise.”

  At the top of the rise, Beltur looked north. It took him several moments to locate the vulcrows because there were three clustered beyond several low bushes at the base of the rise. After a moment, Beltur swallowed because he made out a pale blue cloth between two of the vulcrows. He turned to Graalur. “Did your squad come this way today or earlier?”

  “No, ser. I don’t think any squads from our company went north of the east-west road until this morning.”

  From what Beltur could determine, the trooper was telling the truth, and that meant more trouble. As he headed down the slope, the vulcrows took wing. He kept riding until he could see what was left of a figure in the torn pale blue uniform and the tracks around it.

  Then he reined up and looked to the captive trooper.

  “Ser … we didn’t do it.”

  “I got that feeling, but, if you didn’t, who did?”

  “I don’t know, ser. It might have been the other company. When we left the camp this morning, everyone else in our squads was still there.”

  And that meant that the other Hydlenese company was likely the one that had killed the trooper lying there. The dead trooper couldn’t have been Taasn, Beltur realized as he saw the scroll collar pin on the uniform, and the single dark blue embroidered rank slash on the sleeve.

  “He was a courier, ser. That’s what the scroll on the collar means. At least, it does for us.”

  Beltur studied the ground around the body.

  The single set of hoofprints to and from the east meant that someone had carried the dead trooper from the Weevett road and then returned to the road, and had done so at least several glasses earlier, because of the damage to the body, confirming that it couldn’t have been Taasn.

  “Graalur, dismount and search the body. See if there’s anything left in his uniform.”

  Beltur watched as the trooper did so, gingerly but carefully.

  Graalur finally straightened. “There’s nothing, ser. They cut away his wallet and took his sabre and scabbard. Likely his riding jacket as well. There’s nothing to say who he was, except for the pin on his collar.”

  “Remove the pin. Hand it to me and mount up.”

  Beltur had to momentarily remove the containment around Graalur, but did so smoothly enough that the trooper apparently didn’t even notice.

  After slipping the pin into his belt wallet, and still trying to sense whether there might be other troopers around, Beltur, with Graalur riding just behind him, followed the hoofprints back to the Weevett road. Just before they reached the road, Beltur saw that the tracks vanished. Rather, they had been removed or smoothed over, presumably by a pine branch lying beside a scraggly scrub oak.

  Beltur again reined up and studied the road and the traces of hoofprints. From what he could tell, there were a number heading in both directions, but the most recent headed back north toward Weevett. After a time, Beltur turned Slowpoke south toward the junction with the old road, which lay only a few hundred yards away. At the junction, he studied the road once more, but the mass of hoofprints all ended there, as if the riders had just turned around and headed back north.

  But who would ride south, kill a courier, ride to the junction, then turn and ride back north? And where did they come from?

  And what message had the dispatch rider been carrying … and to whom? Most likely, it had been sent to the Council of Haven, but that wasn’t certain. Even if it had, had it been a warning? An announcement that a force would be arriving, or a statement not to expect such a force?

  “Are you sure that there weren’t any more troopers coming from Hydlen?”

  “Ser, the captain said that more companies would be coming. That was before he died. He said he didn’t know when. Well … that was what the squad leader said. No other companies had arrived when we left camp this morning.”

  Beltur definitely didn’t like what he heard. He immediately turned Slowpoke toward Haven. He kept asking questions, but it was clear that Graalur didn’t know much more than what he’d already said.

  Even before Beltur reached the main square, he could sense, if but faintly, riders and the chaos of fire on the east side of Haven. He could also sense two sets of order shields, shields that had to be those of Jessyla and Lhadoraak.

  Now what the frig do you do? Beltur was going to need every last bit of order he could muster, including what he was presently using to hold Graalur. You could bluff … or wait and see. He urged Slowpoke into a fast walk and tried to sense more clearly what was happening. He didn’t think that the burning house was that of Jaegyr and Julli, because it felt as though it happened to be on the south side of the main road, and theirs was on the north side. He pulled out his water bottle and drank some more ale, hoping that would help maintain his strength for what likely lay ahead.

  Before long he sensed more clearly that there had to be a full company attacking various dwellings on the east end of town, and he immediately urged Slowpoke into a canter, then turned and said, not quite conversationally, “There’s some fighting going on up ahead. If you want to come out of it alive, just stick by me and don’t lift a weapon.”

  “Who’s fighting?” asked Graalur.

  “I don’t know, but I’d wager that it’s your other company from Hydlen.”

  “And I’m not supposed to fight?”

  Beltur shrugged. “If you do, I’ll have to treat you like the others. It’s your choice.”

  “Some choice.”

  “Only if we lose,” replied Beltur, releasing the containment around Graalur.

  When Beltur neared the east end of Haven and caught sight of the attackers, he was so startled that he almost froze in the saddle. Instead of the green of Hydlen, all the attacking troopers wore maroon uniforms. Maroon? Why would troopers from Lydiar be attacking Haven?

  Abruptly, it made a strange sort of sense. Beltur immediately put Slowpoke into a full charge down the main street, aiming the big gelding right toward the center of the mass of troopers who had formed a line across the main street while, behind the main body, several squads were raiding dwellings and had actually set fire to two. The line of troopers was little more than two deep, and behind them, perhaps fifty yards back, was a smaller group of riders. Among those riders, Beltur wagered, was the captain. He could also sense Jessyla, who was mounted and positioned close to Jaegyr and Julli’s cottage, as was Lhadoraak.

  With Graalur hanging close, Beltur c
ontinued past Jessyla, straight toward the troopers. Although he didn’t hear the order, the captain or whoever was in command must have called out to archers, because a good score of shafts rebounded from his shields.

  Then someone shouted, “It’s a mage!”

  A horn blared out a signal, and all of the troopers in maroon turned and departed at a good pace, at least a canter, if not a gallop. Seeing that he wasn’t going to catch any of the withdrawing troopers, Beltur eased Slowpoke to a stop at roughly the point where the troopers in maroon had been holding the line. Ahead and to his right, the trim house that had belonged to the trader Zankar—or his mother—was engulfed in flame, as was another house to the south of it … and another even farther south.

  Since the troopers in maroon kept riding along the road to Lydiar, clearly not intending to stop any time soon, Beltur turned, only to see Graalur grasping his left arm, from which protruded one of the shafts meant for Beltur.

  “Jessyla!” Even before the words were out of his mouth, Beltur could sense that she was riding toward him.

  After several moments, Lhadoraak followed.

  When Jessyla reined up, Beltur gestured to the wounded man. “This is Graalur. I took him prisoner and made him follow me. If you wouldn’t mind dealing with that wound … I don’t think it’s that serious, and we do need to talk to him more.” He added to Graalur, “She’s a healer.”

  The Hydlenese inclined his head.

  “You’ll need to dismount,” said Jessyla, dismounting and handing the reins of her horse to Beltur.

  Lhadoraak reined up beside Jessyla.

  Beltur looked to Lhadoraak. “If you’d hold his horse for a moment.”

  Lhadoraak looked quizzically at Beltur but took the reins from Graalur.

  Beltur looked around. The east end of Haven looked deserted, except for the four riders and the three burning houses, all three of which were clearly beyond any hope of saving. He shook his head, then asked Lhadoraak, “What happened?”

  “You were right. There was an attack on Vortaan’s stead around eighth glass, just a squad or two of the greencoats. Jessyla was holding them off. She’d already killed several when I got there, and when they saw me and Waerdyn and Ruell, they decided they’d had enough, and they turned and headed off. We were just heading back when Chestyn rode up and said that a company of Lydian troopers was raiding the east end of town. That was a glass ago … something like that, I think. We couldn’t deal with that many so we decided to try to save Jaegyr and Julli’s place. All I could do was use shields to keep them away.”

  “We have three more mounts,” declared Jessyla, not looking away from where she worked on Graalur’s arm. “Julli tied them up behind her cot.”

  “Small containments?” asked Beltur, knowing what killing did to her and trying not to wince.

  “Yes. I hated it, but they would have torched Julli’s place. I couldn’t let that happen to them, and we couldn’t have saved anyone else by then.” Jessyla returned her attention to Graalur. “Don’t move. This will hurt.”

  The captive said nothing.

  “There,” added Jessyla. “This will feel hot for several moments, but it will cool before long.”

  Beltur didn’t see what she used to bind the wound, but as she finished, he returned his attention to Lhadoraak. “Then what?”

  “After Jessyla … did what she did … they sort of avoided us. Then you showed up, and they just turned and rode off. The Lydian must have thought you were bringing more troopers or something.”

  “I don’t think they were Lydians.”

  “They wore maroon uniforms,” Lhadoraak pointed out. “Who else does?”

  “I think that’s what everyone is supposed to think. You said that Jessyla killed some of them. Where are their bodies?”

  “Over by Jaegyr’s cottage.”

  “Are you finished with Graalur’s arm?” asked Beltur.

  “For now. I did the best I could here. You’ll need to check it in the morning.” To Graalur’s questioning expression, Jessyla replied, “Beltur’s better at finding and removing deep wound chaos.”

  “Then we need to go over and take a look at the bodies.” Beltur turned and looked down at Graalur. “Why don’t you hand over your sabre? It’ll be safer for everyone that way, including you. I also need it to check something.”

  The captive trooper frowned, but unfastened the sabre belt awkwardly and handed it up to Beltur.

  “Do all troopers have the same kind of sabre?”

  “Yes, ser. So far as I know. There might be small differences, but they all look pretty much alike.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Might I mount?”

  “You can, but I wouldn’t try riding off.”

  “No, ser. I won’t.”

  Once everyone was mounted, Beltur turned Slowpoke toward Julli’s cottage and eased the gelding forward. Then he halted Slowpoke short of the nearest body and dismounted, handing the reins to Jessyla. He knelt by the dead trooper, comparing the sabres. He stood and walked to the second body, where he made another comparison. He did the same with the third body before walking back to the others. “The sabres are the same as Graalur’s.”

  The captive’s mouth opened, then closed, but he said nothing.

  “Also, look at the three uniforms. They’re almost new, all three.”

  Jessyla nodded.

  “They were Hydlenese troopers dressed as Lydians?” asked Lhadoraak. “But why?”

  “I’d like to say that it’s because we’ve proved difficult,” replied Beltur dryly, “but this had to have been planned well before we arrived. You can’t come up with a hundred Lydian uniforms and get a company of troopers from Hydolar to Haven in an eightday, or even two.”

  “You suspected this?” asked Lhadoraak.

  “No. Not until I saw them. There were tracks of a company on the Weevett road. They stopped there, and then went back north. I didn’t follow them, but I suspect they went far enough east and then came down the road as though they’d come all the way from Lydiar. We found the body of a Montgren courier hidden off the road. Rather, the vulcrows found it…” Beltur quickly explained what had happened with him and the Hydlenese squad.

  “We need to get back to the Council House and tell Tulya,” said Lhadoraak.

  Beltur looked to Jessyla. “Can you have Julli strip the bodies and keep the valuables and uniforms? We may need them as proof of some sort. We’d better take the sabres, though. We’ll send troopers for the horses as soon as we can.”

  In less than half a quint, the four were riding back toward the town square and the Council House, with all the sword belts slung over the front of Beltur’s saddle. Beltur felt slightly guilty in leaving the ruins of the houses that were barely flaming, but mostly smoldering heaps, yet there really wasn’t much he and the others could do that others couldn’t do as well, if not better. “Where did you post Waerdyn and the others?”

  “At the Council House,” replied Jessyla. “We couldn’t protect them the way you can. They’d only have gotten killed, but between the four of them and Taelya, we thought Tulya would be protected as well as possible.”

  “I’d agree with that,” said Beltur. “If the raiders had gotten that far, they’d have picked an easier target.”

  “Why did they leave when they did?” asked Lhadoraak. “They didn’t even see what you could do—except shield yourself against arrows.”

  “And you and Jessyla did that already?”

  “That’s right.” Lhadoraak’s tone was between puzzled and annoyed.

  “I’m just guessing, but I think they were already getting ready to leave. I also think they didn’t want us to capture anyone who might reveal that they were really Hydlenese.”

  “But you proved that already,” said Jessyla.

  “The fact that three dead men all wore newish uniforms and had the same kind of blades as troopers of Hydlen is thin proof, especially when everyone saw them ride to and from the east and when t
hey killed several people and burned three dwellings.” Beltur snorted. “The fact that both the Lydians and the Hydlenese could attack Haven will be seen as proof that Montgren can’t really control the area.”

  “So what can we do?” Jessyla asked.

  “Find some way to change that image.”

  “How?” said Lhadoraak.

  “We’ll have to think about that. All of us.” Beltur wished he could talk to Raelf. With the captain’s experience as a Lydian undercaptain, he might have been able to offer some additional insight. After a silence, Beltur said, “I saw that the false Lydians fired Zankar’s house.”

  “They killed his mother,” said Jessyla. “I saw her body in the yard before we turned to save Julli’s place.”

  Beltur turned in the saddle and looked at Graalur. “Did you know anything about troopers dressing like Lydians?”

  “No, ser! I never heard anything like that. The captain did say we might have trouble with Lydians. He said they were prowling around…” Graalur stopped, his words trailing off.

  “You never scouted to the east, did you?” asked Beltur.

  “No, ser.”

  “I wonder how the captain knew that you might have trouble with Lydians,” said Beltur, his voice slightly sardonic.

  “He … he didn’t say, ser.”

  “Rather interesting, don’t you think?” continued Beltur. “Did anyone else mention the Lydians?”

  “Just the squad leader.”

  “When did he mention the Lydians?”

  “An eightday or so ago … I think.”

  Before all that long the four were riding across the square.

  Tulya burst out of the Council House even before they reined up. She glared directly at Beltur. “Where were you when everyone attacked?”

  Beltur could hear the anger in her voice, but immediately replied, “Dealing with a squad of Hydlenese troopers attacking steads a bit northwest of the west crossroads. I came back as soon as I could and joined Jessyla and Lhadoraak.”