Star Mage

by R. K. Thorne

  “I’ll inquire. Given that Evrical’s a four-day ride around the gulf, their reports likely predate any action you took.”

  “We should look into getting them help to send news faster. Mages could do it, if we had enough of them. I wonder if anyone at that temple of Tharomar’s could aid us.” Even as he said it, Aven knew they were far from having enough mages for that.

  Jenec shifted uncomfortably. Not comfortable with all this magic about, eh? But afraid to say so in front of the new king?

  Well, whether Jenec liked it or not, they were quickly going to be outmanned with the Kavanarian troops this spread out. If all of them had come for Panar, Aven could have clustered all the Akarian mages and sent all available troops against his enemy. Maybe they still would. As it was, he would have to choose where to engage them—and potentially what to risk losing. Kavanarian troops might be spread thin, but then the Akarians would be too. Should he try to cover each city with a unit of mages or keep them all together to better their chances? As if they had that many. Already he’d sent Derk away. And what if he didn’t come back? They should have sent a creature mage with Derk in case of injuries—Siliana being the only option. But then she’d be unable to assist his mother. No, covering every city with mage forces wasn’t an option. They couldn’t even cover Panar at this rate.

  “Can we recruit more mages?” said Miara. “Surely there must be some in hiding or practicing secretly. They may not be well trained, but they could be taught to draw energy for those that are.”

  “We should try. But it may be a delicate matter.” Aven massaged his forehead, trying to think.

  “It would certainly need to be carefully worded,” Dyon said sternly.

  “Not everyone will support the use of magic in war,” said Jenec.

  “We have no choice,” said Aven. “It’s being used against us. We can defend ourselves or die.”

  Jenec’s eyes widened. “There must be some conventional way to win. Certainly it can’t be that serious.”

  “Oh, it is,” Miara said. “If enslaved mages have the orders to do so, they can be very deadly.”

  Jenec opened his mouth to say something else, but Aven spoke first. “It was King Samul’s guidance that we should know at least enough to defend ourselves and our people from a mage threat, and I agree with him. And if Kavanar is flinging all they have at us, we’re going to need more on our side. It’s not clear how well a conventional army can stand up to magic.”

  “If it can at all,” Miara said. Jenec narrowed his eyes at her.

  Aven wanted to slam a fist on the table but forced himself to take a slow, steadying breath and only grip the table edge a little too hard. They’d all been so concerned about sharing the news of his magic with leaders in power, within the insular world of Estun and the Assembly, but no one had given one whit of thought to selling the idea to the people. News was likely already spreading. How many reactions would be tainted by unfounded fear? Or skewed by those preaching hate? Right now, no one’s reactions were being guided. He needed to do something, and soon. They should have started recruiting mages the day he’d arrived back in Estun.

  Dyon’s voice cut into his thoughts. “I agree more mages will be needed. What else? You said Warden Asten will be heading to Dramsren to meet her troops?”

  “Yes. The regiment from Shansaren should arrive by then. Assuming everything with Thel goes smoothly.” Assuming she survives, Aven thought. Assuming any altercation would go smoothly would be horribly naïve, of course. Thel’s easy return was, in fact, the least likely thing to happen.

  “I saw them on the road,” Wunik called. “They should get there as planned tomorrow.”

  “Good.” Aven eyed the table. Four of the twelve stones were clustered within northern Gilaren. Maybe three to five thousand men. Anonil had barely more than a thousand armed men, but there was the stronghold nearby to help. “Think those are heading for Anonil? Does it still stand?”

  “For now,” Dyon said. “But the outlook is grim. The regiment stationed in the southern Gilaren stronghold has yet to encounter any Kavanarian troops, and there’s at least one Kavanarian unit between them and Anonil now. Worse, the Kavanarians marched right past the northern stronghold and its regiment without incident.” He pressed his lips together into a thin line.

  “By the gods,” Aven muttered. Alikar had ordered them not to engage. What general had he bribed to pull that off? Alikar would be in their existing chain of command, though, but letting Kavanarians pass freely couldn’t have sat well with the troops. He hoped. “I wonder if Anonil will offer any resistance.”

  “I almost hope it doesn’t,” Dyon said. “Let them come beyond the city, and we’ll crush them all the easier.”

  “We don’t want to have to fight our own fortifications, sir,” Jenec said bleakly. “We should send support there now. It’d be better if they don’t take the city.”

  “Of course,” Dyon said. “But if they must, I’d rather them not damage it. Or kill too many. And exactly who would you send? The regiment at the northern stronghold who let them walk by? That’s who we’d have sent, if anyone. That’s who should have stopped them.” Dyon’s hand slowly closed to a fist at the table’s edge.

  Jenec rubbed the back of his neck, brow furrowing.

  “Kavanarian troops may still kill many even if Anonil offers no resistance,” said Aven. “We’ll see how well they’re led. All right, so the northern stronghold has been compromised. Have you received news from the southern regiment?”

  “The last report came yesterday. They haven’t encountered any Kavanarians. The catapults we dealt with yesterday appear to have taken a wide berth, some disguised as wagons, and assembled in Gilaren forests, closer to Panar.”

  “Did word come by horse or bird?” Aven asked.

  “By horse,” Dyon said. “So the news is at least two days old. And we observed something amiss at the stronghold via Elder Wunik’s spell. It appeared under siege, everyone shut up in the innermost heart of the keep, gates barred and closed.”

  “Except there was no sign of any enemy,” Jenec added.

  “Nothing?” Miara frowned.

  “Nothing. No one outside,” Wunik added from his perch. He looked warm over there. Glowing. Aven itched to join him.

  “Do you think it could be Kavanarian mages at work, Wunik?” said Miara.

  “Perhaps,” he said, but his tone implied yes.

  Hmm. Aven scratched his head. They could send a bird, but a bird couldn’t stroll inside and ask questions. Or knock. “So you’re thinking someone should head there. See what’s afoot?”

  Dyon smiled slightly. “You read my mind. That magic of yours is coming in handy.”

  Aven shook his head and didn’t miss the return of Jenec’s scowl. “I’m an air mage. Like Wunik. We can’t do that.”

  “Old man sure seems like he can read minds,” Jenec grumbled.

  Aven laughed. “Maybe he can, but not with his magic.”

  “Who can do that then?” Dyon asked.

  “Creature mages. Like Miara.” Aven didn’t add that his mother could too, and had been able to as long as Dyon had known her. Miara flushed and smiled slightly.

  Jenec now looked taken aback. “Wait, you’re not joking? They really can read minds?”

  “Only some mages,” Miara added gently. “And we very much prefer not to. It can be—”

  “—uncomfortable and hazardous to their health,” Aven cut in. That sounded better than it could drive them mad. He didn’t need anyone envisioning mages as crazed lunatics. Reality was hard enough to accept without people trying to accept something much worse and extremely unlikely.

  Jenec did not look terribly relieved.

  “We can also heal mortal wounds,” Miara added, smiling as sweetly as she could.

  Dyon chuckled at that. “I’ve seen it myself done by this fair maiden right here, Jenec. Any woman who can gut herself, sew herself back together, and walk away like nothing’s happened… Well,
let’s just say I know quite a few men without the stomach for that.”

  “Uh—did I hear that correctly?” Jenec blurted, eyes wide.

  Miara turned bright red now.

  “I’ll explain more later,” Dyon said. “Let’s use the king’s time wisely, eh, Lieutenant?”

  His own cheeks coloring slightly, Jenec nodded.

  Aven decided not to react to any of it. Just another inconsequential observation. “Do you have any proposals on handling this situation, Dyon? How does all this square with the plans you and Asten worked on?”

  “And our lieutenants worked on, of course,” Dyon said, nodding to Jenec and several others busy taking notes behind them. “This is one of the three routes we expected, although we had assumed they’d meet some resistance from the northern Gilaren regiment. As a result, we’d estimated them to be further behind than this in the north, traveling slower. I’m glad they aren’t coming straight en masse for Panar, but I’d expect it fairly soon. Either that or they’ll cut across and meet up in Dramsren, at Lenial. Cut the south off from the north.”

  “Or they’ll do both.” Jenec folded his arms across his chest.

  Dyon’s brow furrowed. “And divide their forces?”

  Jenec shrugged. “Moving into Dramsren is not particularly smart either. A front to both the north, where they must anticipate Liren and Elaren troops, and the south, with all our leadership here? We could easily find a way to flank them.”

  “We’re not that divided. Even with three regiments in Panar, we can at best spare one with all the pieces they have in play. We can’t abandon Panar.”

  “Why not?” Miara said slowly.

  Every eye in the room seemed to focus on her.

  Jenec opened his mouth, frowning, but Aven quickly cut him off. “Because the White City, in addition to being the capital, is by far the largest city in Akaria. Almost a third of our people live here. The civilian devastation could be massive.”

  “All right, but maybe she has a point,” said Jenec. “What if we could move the king and all our leadership deeper into the interior—say, into Shansaren’s forests? That would stretch their supply line. We could wear them down, especially with winter on their heels.”

  Aven raised an eyebrow. “And just give up Panar?” Those around him shifted uncomfortably at the idea.

  “Maybe they’d march right past. Or go through Dramsren.”

  “I’m sure Lady Toyl would be pleased to know you’d prefer to sacrifice Lenial instead,” Dyon said, smiling crookedly.

  Aven shook his head. “I appreciate the thought, but they’re not going to waltz right past Panar. We can’t draw them out without facing civilian casualties and the loss of cities we would first give up freely and then need to reclaim. We should pool our eastern forces here instead, make our stand in Panar.”

  “It has the best fortifications of any of our cities as well,” Dyon added.

  “Our relations with the Takarans are also good; they’d stand to lose a lot if they tried to take advantage of this situation. Though Shansaren is keeping one regiment just in case.” Aven pointed at the eastern border.

  Jenec rubbed his chin. “All of that makes sense. However, just because something doesn’t seem like the smartest decision to us doesn’t mean they won’t do it. If I were them, I’d have already pooled my forces and headed to Panar at full strength. It’s likely their only chance to be able to take the city, and with our access to the sea, I think it’s doubtful they can do it. If they take losses in these smaller cities, will they have enough left?”

  “You’re not accounting for the mages as part of the force, though,” Miara pointed out. “Even a few with the right orders can do a lot of damage.”

  Jenec didn’t seem to know what to make of that. He stared for a moment, then continued on. “The way they have their forces divided will tempt us to do the same.”

  “Perhaps that’s what they’re hoping for,” Aven said softly.

  “Hmm,” Dyon said. “Keeping their largest possible force together and attacking our less defended areas allows them to make progress. They can draw troops away from Panar and have a much easier target if they’ve taken control of Gilaren and Dramsren. And who knows, maybe Faeren too. If Alikar’s a traitor, maybe Sven took his bribe and will be sending more defectors at us from the east, by land or even by sea in ships coming into the gulf.”

  “We can afford to divide our troops to a point,” said Aven slowly. “They cannot afford it as easily. But we can’t afford to divide our mages. Maybe they are building the campaign around that.”

  Dyon grimaced. “It’s possible.”

  “And we’ve already divided ourselves even by sending Derk off,” Miara said, shaking her head, her voice hard. “At least one other is down now too.” Her eyes told him she was referring to his mother, without wanting to say it out loud. Aven had lost track of who knew his mother was a mage and who didn’t. “How many does that leave us?”

  Aven shook his head. “Six? No, wait, should I count your sister?”

  “Might as well,” she said, then sighed.

  “Eight? Nine, when Derk returns?” Ten if he counted Beneral, but he wasn’t sure if he should. Teron had stayed in Estun with Dom. Perhaps he should send word for the Takaran to come to Panar along with Dom and Devol. They’d need all the help they could get. And what the hell had ever happened to that last Elder his mother had sent for? Was Wunik really the only one left?

  Dyon scowled, and for the first time Jenec also looked concerned on a mage-related point. “That’s practically nothing,” Dyon said.

  “Against mages trained for war?” Miara said. “It is nothing. We’re not even all trained at anything. Jaena’s had a year or two of war training. I’ve been a healer. The only thing working in our favor is that as slaves, they may not want to fight. So they’ll likely only do what they specifically have orders to do. If their orders are narrow, they’ll take less initiative than if they were fighting of their own accord.”

  “Let’s hope,” said Aven. Miara had certainly found ways to undercut her mission orders. They’d have to pray that other Kavanarian mages were inclined to do the same. “If I had my druthers, we’d send at least four creature mages with each force. Their capacity to heal wounds would be invaluable, and furthermore, the Kavanarian troops are likely to have the same.”

  “That could get… strange.” Dyon frowned.

  Aven nodded. “Yes, it could. But we have only three. Total.”

  “My father’s a creature mage. Luha too.”

  “Great—five then. Still meaningless in terms of dividing us up. Ideally, we’d match Kavanar mage for mage. But considering they have at least five hundred or more, that’s definitely not happening.”

  “Five hundred?” Jenec whispered.

  “Yes,” said Miara. “Although we can hope they left some at Mage Hall to defend the place.”

  “And we have… nine?” Jenec asked. His discomfort with magic seemed rapidly diminishing.

  Miara nodded once. “Yes. Beyond the training issue, others aren’t going to be marching out with the troops anytime soon.” Wunik harrumphed, but Aven guessed she’d been thinking more of his mother. Jenec’s mouth hung open in dismay. At Aven’s gaze, he snapped it shut. Dyon looked grim.

  Aven pressed his lips together. “If you’re feeling like we’re unprepared, it’s because we are.” Jenec swore, and Dyon’s jaw tightened. “So perhaps they are trying to divide us up. Miara, any idea how much Daes knows about war?”

  “He was born a minor noble, but fought in the past, until he injured his leg. That was how he came to be at Mage Hall. I was probably twelve when he arrived. He quickly took over. I don’t know what he did or in what conflict, but the missions he gave me were always carefully planned. They rarely went awry.” Except for yours, happily, she added silently. He stifled a smile.

  “The nobility of Kavanar gave you missions?” Jenec blurted. “And we have you here why—”

  Aven winc
ed. He opened his mouth, but Miara jumped in first. “He gave me missions because I was his slave. One who found a way to be very inefficient in my mission and, in doing so, saved your king’s life.” A stunned silence fell across the room. “Aven gave me my freedom,” Miara said, slower now. Her voice was as hard and demanding as the stone of Ranok. A thrill went through him at the glimpse of the queen within her. “I have already fought bravely for Akaria. I brought Aven back from Kavanar, and I rescued King Samul from three mage slaves determined to kill him. Tell me, what have you done to prove your loyalty to Akaria, Lieutenant?”

  Jenec stared, completely caught off guard. The room remained silent, but the texture of it was different now, more anticipatory than tense. “I beg your pardon, my lady.”

  Dyon cleared his throat. “Arms Master.”

  “What?” said Jenec.

  “She outranks you. King Samul granted her the title.”

  “Your pardon, Arms Master,” said Jenec, bowing slightly. Grudgingly, perhaps.

  Miara let the silence stretch on a moment longer, then nodded. “Back to the matter at hand. Daes is smart. He plans well. He should not to be underestimated.”

  Aven nodded curtly. “We need to investigate this southern stronghold. And soon we’ll need to decide. Do we send mages north with Asten? Do we cluster all the mages here to hold the capital at all costs? What do we think the Kavanarians will do next?”

  Jenec’s face hardened, this time in determination. “The northern Kavanarian force seems to have acted independently of the southern force. I think one is tasked with Anonil, and the other Panar.”

  Dyon shook his head. “Surely the fools would join their forces before attacking the capital.”

  “They ought to. But what does it look like they’re doing?” Aven asked.

  “As much as I hate to admit it, I think Jenec’s right.” Dyon scowled. “They seem to be taking a two-pronged approach. They’ve little experience actually working together. Or in strategy. Even if this Daes is a master planner and is indeed pushing for war, they still might not follow his plans if he’s not on the battlefield.”

  “He will be,” said Aven.