Through The Fire: The Alawansi Book One

by Valerie Puissant

  The king regarded the western governor for several long moments. “Your objections have been duly noted governor, duly noted.” He pulled his attention back to the audience and picked up a long, wooden pointing stick and put it down on the map in the eastern region. “ Now, if we can proceed with the very important matter at hand. We have had another report from Merwick. Ships from the Zuunlands have been firing on some of our larger fishing vessels. Warning shots mostly, for now, but these acts of hostility have started to become more and more frequent. Reports up and down the coast, from as far south as Vanwara have said that raiding parties are coming ashore and inciting skirmishes along our eastern border. While they have not launched a full scale attack, they are becoming a nuisance that we can no longer afford to ignore.” King Naser paused, waiting for a response.

  The governor from the east was the first to speak. “What do you propose we do about it, Your Majesty? We have squashed their every advance, but they keep coming.”

  The king nodded, “Yes, that is why I feel the time is right to take the fight to their shores. We have sent scouting parties to the Zuunlands. They have fruits and spices in abundance, yet their traders gouge us with ridiculous prices. We must act now to prevent invasion. In the meantime, we can secure access to the natural resources that their people squander.”

  The western region spoke up. “Are our troops prepared to mount an offensive against the barbarian nation?”

  The prince spoke up this time. “It has been quite some time since this nation has been forced to wage war. Many of our soldiers returned to their civilian lives. We have been rebuilding our army over a year now. We have a large strike force that is trained and ready to act, but we do not have enough ships to get them to the shores. We do not have the food preservation technology to safeguard their provisions on the journey. We do not have the deadly accurate, long range cannons to take out enemy ships and destroy shoreline defenses. For those vital pieces of the puzzle, we need the aid of the neighboring kingdoms. We need to secure their technology and we need to secure the support of their troops. I am proposing a plan. In two month’s time, we will embark upon three diplomatic missions to request support from our neighbors. I will go east to Geronia, and my son, the crown prince, will go south to Vanwara. We must convince our allies to join us in this fight against the devils from the East for the safety of all.”

  “And what of Mirabi? Who will you send to bring them to the table?” The gentleman from the southern region spoke quietly.

  The king waved his hand dismissively. “I will ask you, my governors. Who among you will go to present our case to Mirabi?” A small frown creased the southern delegate’s brow, but he said nothing.

  The silence stretched for what seemed like an eternity to me, but finally the governor from the east spoke. “It is my people who face the greatest danger from this foe. I will go to Mirabi and ask for their cooperation.”

  The king looked in Wylan’s direction suddenly. “Mage, you have been silent throughout these proceedings. That usually means you have a dissenting opinion of the plan. Tell me, what are your objections?”

  “We have landed small parties on their shores. Could the parties landing on our shores be a response in kind? Perhaps full blown invasion is not their intention. Will we start a war over a few warning shots over the bows of some of our ships?”

  The king was not angry, but he was surprised. “Would you have us wait until our ships are sinking below the waves before we act? Would you have us wait until they are violating the women and children in the coastal villages? How many would you have die before you feel there has been sufficient provocation to act?”

  “Your Majesty, this proposed invasion will undoubtedly kill many more men than the sinking of a few fishing boats. I just want to know we have exhausted all other diplomatic means before we launch an attack.”

  The eastern delegate spoke up. “The mage makes a fair point. What happened when you sent requests to parlay with their leader?”

  “All requests to date have been ignored. We have had no word from their camp about the incursion into our territory.”

  Wylan sat back in his chair before he spoke. “I would like to go on record as having serious misgivings about the invasion plan. I think it may be a terrible mistake.”

  The three advisors in the room spoke among themselves for several minutes, finally the governor from the east spoke. “We feel it would be in our best interest to secure our borders.” He paused a moment, smiling slightly as if he were about to share some great jest, “and we would be fools not to take advantage of the vast resources available when we have conquered the enemy. It can only improve commerce here in our own fair land.”

  When the meeting was over, Wylan left the castle so quickly the footman barely had time to open the door for him to exit. He did not speak again until we were in the carriage and Savan was driving us back home. “This is a fool’s errand. He will send our men to die just so he can secure spice routes.”

  I agreed with my mentor’s assessment. I thought back to what Wylan had said when we first met, about how those in power never truly saw those who served them. Those soldiers were simply a means to an end. “What will we do?”

  He sighed, “We will honor the wishes of our king and country, even those countrymen who sneer at us and regard us with derision. We will do what is asked of us, even if we hate every minute of it.” He sighed, “We will simply have to do everything in our power to ensure that those soldiers are as safe as possible.”

  Chapter Ten

  I had not been on a long trip since I had made the initial journey to the capital city. We had been on shorter jaunts to nearby villages and towns on various errands, usually gathering supplies for Wylan’s endless enchantment experiments, but we had not been more than a day away from home in over a year. Now we were attached to King Naser’s caravan and we were bound for Geronia City, the capital of Geronia, on a diplomatic mission. I was excited to be traveling to a different land. I had read so much about the wonders of Geronia and I had seen examples of Geronian stone carving in our own great city. I was quite disappointed when we had ridden through the gates of the great wall which separated our two nations and discovered the landscape was little changed from one side of the wall to the other. “The scenery will change as we travel further east. Most of the marvels you have read about in books can be seen in Geronia City.” Wylan had traveled to the city many times with his old master but this was my first time. I was truly looking forward to arriving in the capital, but the journey itself was tedious. Caravans traveled much more slowly and we had been on the road for weeks.

  Wylan pulled out a white linen face cloth and wiped away the trickles of sweat that dripped down his forehead. As Wylan had predicted, the scenery had begun to change as we rode deeper into Geronia and so had the weather. The atmosphere inside our coach was close and over warm in the late spring heat. I did not feel the discomfort as he did because of my nature, but even I longed for a breeze to stir the stale air. I spoke into the silence. “It is hard to believe the weather can change so drastically in such a short time.”

  Wylan wiped at his brow again. “Soon I fear we will dispel the myth that mages have no natural scent.” He looked at me for a moment and amended, “Or at least I will. I truly envy your ability to remain cool and dry under any circumstance.”

  I smiled, “Given the general aroma of the caravan, I think we still come up smelling like roses, on balance. We, at least, have the advantage of warm washing water each night.”

  He flashed me one of his famous half smiles. “Have I thanked you for that lately?”

  I smiled back, teasingly. “No, you have not. I am beginning to feel very underappreciated.”

  He came closer to a full smile this time. He bowed his head deeply, “M’lady, I am grateful for all your glorious talents. You have kept the atmosphere in our coach from becoming too rare to bear.”

  I was a bit taken aback and almost ridiculously pleased at t
his acknowledgement of my true gender. Since he had given me the hair ribbon, the subject had not come up again, though I had taken to wearing the ribbon nearly every day. I liked that it kept my growing locks out of my eyes, and I liked that it matched the red of my robes. More than that, I liked the reminder of a gift given by a friend in an hour of sadness. There had been no further fanfare about the incident. We had spent the last several months just being ourselves. I had spent the time refining control over my magic, researching wide ranging topics for Wylan’s experiments and beginning the arduous, tedious task of learning enchantment.

  I watched my mentor and friend as he picked up his book to continue reading. A shadow of discomfort crossed his green brown eyes and the barest wince creased his brow. He began absently massaging his right leg as he held the book in his left hand. I knew the hours of sitting in a cramped hot carriage on a bumpy road were not good for his weak leg. He had never volunteered any information about the exact nature of his injury and I had thought it impolite to ask, but I knew him well enough now to know when his discomfort was becoming extreme. I also knew him well enough to know not to address the matter directly.

  I blew out a weary sigh, “Do you think we can call for a halt soon? I am not sure how many more bumps in the road my backside can take!”

  He looked out of the carriage window. “The sun is getting low and, if my calculations are correct, we are nearing a town. I wager we will stop soon and set up camp. If you can bear it a bit longer, we will have a nice long rest in under an hour I would say.” He was right. Forty-five minutes later, the caravan reached a clearing outside the city limits of a town I could not even name.

  A king’s caravan was a large affair. The king and queen traveled with a large retinue of personal servants, several dignitaries and their servants, guards for the caravan and other assorted cooks and cleaners and builders. There were too many people for any inn in any town to accommodate. Most of the party camped outside of the city limits in convenient clearings. The cooks and builders and servants saw to the needs of the large party camping in the clearing.

  Wylan and I were not important enough to be invited to stay in the inn, but the tent accommodations were not as primitive as one might imagine. The tent was a sturdy, thick material and we had raised cots topped with soft sleeping furs. They were more comfortable than the beds in many of the inns we had visited on our previous trips. There was netting to keep out the biting insects and Wylan had packed scented herbs which helped repel other pests. They made our home away from home smell quite nice. We even had a servant, something Wylan would never allow back home. Her name was Grentu and she was an Invisible. Gnarled and twisted burn scars covered the left half of her face and scalp. She had no ear on the left side and hair only grew in patchy isolated tufts. Her left eye was a pale, clouded color and the scars pulled at the corner of her mouth so she always appeared to have half a frown. Her manner though, was actually quite pleasant if shy.

  Wylan had assured her that there was no ridiculous code of Invisibility within our camp on the first day of travel. She had stood outside of our tent with a hood covering her face. She had been holding our supper just waiting for us to notice she was there. When we had finally emerged to check on the whereabouts of our meal, the food had gone cold. I was puzzled, “How long have you been standing here? Why did you not let us know you had brought the meal?”

  Wylan was the first to spot the reason for her silence. “She cannot,” his voice barely spoke above a whisper as he pointed to the black arm band around her sleeve that I had failed to notice. “Take down your hood please.” I stifled a gasp when I saw the ruin of the poor girl’s face. “I would like for you to look into my eyes for a moment, please. What is your name?”

  She did as she was asked, but I watched her tremble as she did it. It reminded me so much of my first meeting with Wylan. I wanted to reassure her but I knew I could not. My interference would not bring her comfort. “My name was Grentu, sir.” Invisibles, I had learned, did not keep their names unless their families decided to use them.

  He bent to her height and looked her in the eye. “Grentu, here we are all visible. I see you. Safi here sees you. When you bring our meal, you announce your presence immediately.”

  Grentu nodded, “I will take this away now and bring the food back hot.”

  I spoke up, “Oh, no need. I will have it warm in moments.”

  Wylan bent to the girl’s level again, but she was no longer looking at him and he was no longer demanding it. “Are there other Invisibles here in the camp that you like to dine with?”

  “Yes, sir.” She shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot as he spoke to her.

  “Then go and enjoy your supper among friends. When you return for our dishes, I will give you our robes to have sponged, brushed and ready for the morning.” She nodded and quickly made her way back up the road to the small triangular tents of the servants section of camp. She had announced herself every night since and she was quite efficient and able. Some of the nobles in the party had begun to look quite rumpled and road weary, but we always had a warm meal, comfortable beds and our robes were fresh and cleaned each morning. Grentu was a marvel.

  It was always our habit to give each other privacy in the morning as we changed into fresh robes, even though I was always completely dressed underneath mine and I knew he at least wore trousers under his. I was in the tent dressing and he was waiting outside. “I do not understand the Invisibility curse. How can they say a person is cursed for circumstances beyond their control?”

  “I have raised the matter in meetings with the King at every possible opportunity. I suspect this is why we have been given Grentu as a servant this trip. I think she was meant to show me the folly of my constant badgering.”

  “But Grentu has done nothing but prove your point.” I finished securing my ties and exited the tent.

  Wylan shook his head sadly, “It does not matter. They would just chalk my glowing report up to my sympathy for Invisibles. The king says I am sentimental because I use a walking staff. He says I protest because there is little to separate me from the unfortunates. He does not understand that little separates him from the unfortunates too. It just takes one accident, one mistake and you can find yourself facing a life of unimaginable isolation.”

  “Well why not take Grentu home with us? We know her true worth and we know the Invisibility curse is madness!”

  His half smile was sad. “We both know there is too much that would be a danger to her in our home. There is too much at stake. She would not thank us for it. Few people are truly comfortable when faced with the reality of living with a mage. Our magic is frightening, particularly yours, I would imagine. She would be unhappy. When we get to Geronia, I will ask her if she would like a reference letter so she can try to make a new life there where they have no Invisibility curse. If not, I will make sure her life in the laundry room is as pleasant as it possibly can be. That much I can do for her.” He pushed himself off of the tall tree stump where he had been leaning. “In the meantime, we better get back to our coach and let the men take down this tent. The faster we get underway, the faster we make it to the capital city.”

  Chapter Eleven

  It was midday and we were both dozing inside the stifling hot coach. I had brewed us a batch of Grandmother Uma’s travel tea. It contained a blend of herbs and tree barks that were good for aches and stiffness, and I had even found a small bottle of Vanwaran spirits to add to the mix. We were languid and relaxed. Our caravan passed through the hilly grassland that was typical of the Geronian countryside. The travel was slow, boring and uneventful. It never even occurred to us that we should be on alert for possible attack. Wylan and I completely failed to detect the large band of raiders until they were already pouring over a distant ridge and headed straight for the caravan.

  I awoke to the sound of screaming as the caravan lurched to a halt. Already arrows were being fired into the coaches. Some of them were flaming arrows and the hor
ses were beginning to panic. There were too many men to count. I was too panicked to move or think. Wylan was calling my name but I could not even move myself to answer him. “Safi! Safi! Safara!” My true name shocked a response from me. He pointed at the space between the road and the men who were still coming. “Set the grass on fire. Make it hard for them to aim. Make it hard for them to approach the line. Set the land ablaze. It will stall them for a while.”

  I nodded. He pushed me down onto the floor of the coach and shouted, “Try to stay undercover! Stay in here if you can!” then he exited the far side himself, grabbing his staff. I did not have time to watch him as I had my order. I looked at the grass and prayed there were no people already moving through it. I could not bear the thought of immolating a person. I quickly burned the grass in front of me, but I could not reach the beginning or end of the line of attack from inside the carriage. I had to emerge. The battle ranged the entire length of the twenty wagon caravan and beyond. I knew I could block the progress of others. I stayed behind the cover of the carriages, darting out to set fire to as much of the grass as I could reach. The attackers had spread themselves thin. The guard was doing a good job, fending off a group that had been attacking the king as was their duty. My line of fire was holding back several of the men who had to run to the ends of the fire line to find a way around it even as it spread. I could no longer see Wylan, but I watched several groups of men disappear down large sinkholes and several others carelessly trip into those same holes.

  The line of smoke and fire made it difficult to see what was happening in the grassland beyond, but I could see above the flames as a volley of arrows launched into the sky. I reached up and burned as many as I could but I could not catch them all. Some of them landed. I heard the groans of men around me but I had no time to see who was down. It was chaos and I just did my best to stay small and out of sight despite the bright red garment I wore. When I reached the front of the caravan, I saw an archer emerge from around the wall of flame and take aim at the king. Without thinking, I aimed a spout of flame at him and burned his hand. He dropped the bow and arrow and I incinerated them.