by Guy Antibes
Dinner proceeded with the subjects that Pol thought to be a bit boring, but he needed to know his stepparents better and needed to know things about his stepsiblings. That brought up Amonna. He had not even thought to talk to her since he returned from West Huffnya.
“How is Amonna doing? I have neglected her.”
“You’ll see her tomorrow night. You two are required to attend an Imperial Ball. It is traditional to have a ball just before an army leaves the capital. The officers are also required to attend. Amonna has already accepted my invitation,” Hazett said. “The tone of the event is always subdued. You will have suitable clothes delivered to your rooms in the Seeker’s Inn by tomorrow afternoon.”
Pol walked back to the Instrument’s Compound with Shira, still wondering about the wisdom of holding a celebration before the army went to war. It seemed odd.
~
Pol adjusted the tight collar of a new gray uniform trimmed with black. When Hazett said subdued, he meant it. Most of the men wore gray uniforms similar to Pol’s own, and the women wore dark colors.
The band did not play lively music, but spirits were higher than Pol expected. Hazett mixed and mingled with the officers and their escorts. Pol noticed Biloben, now wearing an Imperial uniform. Shira had not arrived yet, so he walked over to the ex-general.
“Have you been drafted?” Pol asked.
“Volunteered. I don’t have a line command; I’ve never had one. I’m a strategist most of all, so I’m on staff. We need to get together tomorrow and go over what the army has planned. You’ve been on the field more than I have. Why don’t you bring your girl with you? She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”
“I will. I don’t have an assignment yet.”
“You will tomorrow. Don’t be surprised if you will be a scout along with Shira. You two know how to use the rune books better than anyone else, so the army wants them field tested.”
A middle-aged woman walked up. “Ben, it’s been ages.”
“Indeed it has, Morlann.” Biloben gave her a smile and signaled to Pol that their discussion had ended.
Pol bowed to them both and wondered if Cimet had earned an invitation to the Ball. It looked like he hadn’t. Someone tapped him lightly on the shoulder. He turned around with a big grin, thinking it was Shira, but he looked at Amonna’s face, and his grin grew.
“I wondered if we would run into each other,” Pol said.
“Thankfully, that didn’t happen. I’m sure you would have knocked me down,” Pol’s sister said, laughing behind a hand hiding her smile.
“Have you been well?”
She nodded. “I even have a boyfriend.”
“Who?”
Amonna blushed. “I can’t tell you now,” she said. “After you both come back from West Huffnya.”
“Is he an officer?”
She nodded. “But don’t follow me around trying to find out. He’s not in Yastan right now. In fact, I haven’t seen him in some time. We write often.”
“He is a noble?”
Amonna nodded and grinned. “He is tall and dashing and the fourth son of a king, so that makes him a prince. He’s a little like you. He’s hiding his background and working hard as an Imperial Officer. I thought he’d be returning to Yastan, but duty calls, and these are dangerous times.”
“Dangerous times, indeed,” Pol said. “Stay safe, but even be on your guard in the Imperial compound.” He held her hand while he reinforced Amonna’s mental shields.
“Another woman?” Shira said, tickling Pol’s ear from behind.
“Yes. I knew her long before I met you.”
“How are you, Amonna?”
Amonna looked a little nervous. “I am fine. How is everything at Redearth?”
“Captain Corior? How is Captain Corior?” Shira said.
Pol’s sister blushed.
“Who is Captain Corior?” Pol asked.
Shira raised her eyebrows and pointed at Amonna with a nod of her head. “Ask her.”
“You know my sister’s paramour?”
“Very well,” Shira said.
“How did you find out?” Amonna said.
“My Steward took it upon himself to deliver and pick up the mail from Fort Tishiko. I asked him if there were any important letters sent. He mentioned the Captain’s correspondence with the Duke’s stepsister. He knows all about the North Salvan royal family.”
“And is Captain Corior tall, dashing, and the fourth son of a king?”
“He is?” Shira looked shocked. “He kept that secret extremely well. I would add dutiful, brave, and competent.” She described the battle on her way to Deftnis. “I approve if that makes any difference.”
“It makes me feel very good,” Amonna said, “but I’m worried.”
“I’ll bet it wasn’t exactly coincidence that sent him to Redearth,” Shira said, her eyes drifting to Hazett talking to a group of officers. “It was his sense of duty that kept him there rather than returning to Yastan. I’m sorry about that.”
“I can’t think of a better place for him than serving in my brother’s duchy,” Amonna said.
Pol could still sense the worry in her voice. He would have to get to Redearth as soon as he finished up in West Huffnya and meet his sister’s suitor.
Hazett spotted them and hustled over. “I have only a few minutes with you. My job is to talk to as many officers as I can. I can’t fight in a battle, but I can encourage my precious troops.” He looked at Amonna. “You look very pretty tonight. So do you, Shira. A lovely counterpoint to the dour Pol Cissert Pastelle.”
“I should be wearing gray, as well, but no one told me,” Shira said. “I’ll be moving out with the rest of the forces.”
“An informal Imperial decree says you are permitted to dress as you are,” Hazett said. “Now, I must leave you to circulate. Enjoy the evening.”
Pol recognized a more buoyant spirit about his stepfather. Grimhall had done a grave disservice to the Empire when he hid the effervescence of the Emperor’s personality. He looked around the room and spotted a disguise among the officers.
“Excuse me,” he said. “You can chat about the impressive Captain Corior without me.”
Both of them laughed. As Pol left them, Shira was going into some kind of story. He kept his eye on the disguised officer as he walked to the other side of the ballroom.
Pol tweaked a close physical shield as he approached the disguised officer, who noticed Pol and left his group to meet him. “Pol,” the disguised officer said as he approached. “I hoped you’d be here.”
Valiso Gasibli’s voice was unmistakable.
“It has been a long time,” Pol said. “Are you a friend or a foe tonight?”
“Foe.” He produced a stubby knife and pressed it into Pol’s stomach.
The shield only permitted the very tip of the blade to pierce Pol’s uniform and his stomach.
“Help me, please,” Val said.
Pol took Val’s knife hand, noticed a ward on Val’s brain, and took the knife. “Can we go somewhere a little more private?”
Val’s forehead beaded with sweat, and his disguise seemed unstable once Pol touched him. He nodded.
Pol led him out the door to the long balcony. Val gripped the railing, struggling against the ward while Pol removed it. The brown stripes had to come off first, and then he was able to remove the underlying ward and a film of mind-control, as well.
The Seeker wobbled a bit. “Hold me up. They will think I drank too much,” Val said. His voice was rough and fatigued. “I didn’t think I would be able to resist the ward, but once the knife went into your shield, the pressure let up.”
“You were sent here to kill me?”
Val nodded, closing his eyes tight. He still had not lost grip of the railing. “I was supposed to.”
“Namion’s doing?”
Val shook his head. “He was the bait. The Imperial Magician did this. I tried to put up a shield, but it was too late. I didn’t think I’
d be able to resist until you touched me.”
“Are there others in the ballroom?”
“I don’t know.” He closed his eyes and fell backward. Pol caught him and sat him down in the shadows of a corner. The dark gray hid the bit of blood from the puncture wound. He verified that it was not serious. Pol took out a handkerchief and stuffed it in his uniform.
He rushed into the ballroom and found Malden. “Val was ensorcelled by Grimwell. He’s on the balcony. There might be others. I’m going to start removing mind-control and wards as I walk through the crowd. I’ll have Shira do the same.”
“There are other magicians among us who can do the same. I’ll get everything going. The officers were supposed to be checked before they arrived.”
“Valiso slipped through. I don’t know how, yet,” Pol said.
That’s nothing for you to worry about. “If you will excuse us.” Malden left for the balcony.
Pol found Shira still talking to Amonna. Under other circumstances, he would have encouraged the conversation.
“Val arrived ready to assassinate me. He failed, but I was able to remove a ward. He’s sleeping in the corner of the balcony,” Pol said. “We have to clean the minds of everyone in the room, especially any you see wearing a disguise.”
“Val wore a disguise?”
Pol nodded. “I think the ward affected his judgment. Val would know better.”
“Maybe he wanted to call attention to himself,” Shira said. “I’ll see you back here.”
They both toured the ballroom. Pol noticed Malden talking to Hazett, along with Ranno. Pol did not see another disguise, but two men did buckle. In a few minutes, the crisis ended.
Pol grabbed Shira and went to the balcony. Malden was already kneeling by Val. The Seeker had revived enough to talk to Malden in low tones.
“Grimwell,” Malden said. He looked up at Pol. “There were two others who slipped through into the ballroom with wards.”
“We found them.” He turned to Val. “How do you feel?”
“Bone tired. I’ve been warded once before, and recovering from that was worse than this, right?”
Pol nodded. “I wasn’t as adept at their removal then,” he said. “You said Namion lured you?”
Val squeezed his eyes shut. “I should have known better. I was going to talk him into turning himself in, but that didn’t work out, did it? Grimwell shaved his beard off and cut his hair. I didn’t recognize him in the darkness of the inn, and I made a stupid mistake.”
Pol gave Val a grim smile. “I did, too, four years ago.”
“When you disappeared?”
Pol nodded. “It’s amazingly easy to do. I didn’t know you can resist compulsion of a ward.”
“At a cost,” Val said, rubbing his head. “If it weren't for your shield, I would have killed you.”
“I was wearing a thin shield, but still the knife nicked my skin,” Pol said. “We all learn from our mistakes, right?”
Val nodded and put his hand on Malden’s shoulder. “Am I still going to West Huffnya?”
“If you’ll submit to a truth spell.”
“I can break a truth spell, you know that.”
“I do, but it satisfies regulations,” Malden said.
Val made a move to get up, but Malden and Pol had to help him. Shira just looked on.
The Seeker just noticed her. “Your Shinkyan girlfriend has made quite a name for herself in South Salvan,” Val said. “Why don’t we find a quieter spot in the Imperial Compound and catch up?”
“Have I been at the ball long enough?” Pol asked Malden.
“Quite. I’d like to join in, but I’m afraid I have more work to do tonight. The commissary will be quiet and safe.”
~
Shira, Pol, and Val sat in one of the many alcoves in the commissary at the Instrument’s compound. Val consented to a truth spell.
“Where did you meet?” Pol asked.
“I spotted Namion on the northeast outskirts of Yastan. I was coming in from Tarida to leave with the forces going to West Huffnya. The pattern is easy to see now. He walked across the street in plain view. I had to stop, of course.”
“But in your haste?”
Val nodded. “In my haste, I walked into the tavern and spotted Namion sitting with his back to me. I walked up to him, never thinking mind-control. I heard steps close by and saw Grimwell before he captured my mind. The compulsion allows me to think, but only so far. I had to follow the Imperial Magician’s orders to enter the Imperial Compound as myself, locate suitable attire, and disguise myself once in the ballroom.”
“And then kill me, right?” Pol said.
Valiso nodded. “I had a ceremonial knife at my side. I know the knife penetrated your shield. Are you all right?”
“A bit more than a scratch, but I doubt if the blade went in more than half an inch,” Pol said.
“What? That far?” Shira said. She looked down at the dark spot on Pol’s uniform tunic.
“Why didn’t you throw the knife?” Pol said.
“I think that’s what Grimwell expected, but there were too many attendees.”
“Do you still have a desire to harm Shira, Hazett, Malden, Ranno, or me in any way?”
“Not a bit. Your ward removal succeeded,” Val said.
Pol removed the truth spell.
Val shook his head. “When you don’t have a lie to tell, it’s not so bad,” he said. “I should look at your wound.”
Pol pulled out the wadded handkerchief, took a napkin, and dabbed it on his stomach showing a few small dabs of blood. “Already closed up. Grimwell wanted you dead, as well.”
“That’s obvious,” Val said. “Are you still heading for West Huffnya?”
Pol nodded. “Where is Grimwell going, Tarida?”
Val showed Pol his characteristically grim smile. “That fits the pattern. They aren’t ready to fight from the East yet. Grostin continues to work on South Salvan, even though he’s lost well over a thousand troops.”
Pol looked at Shira. “Your work has been effective.”
“Not without losses on our side,” she said.
“The man is stubborn. I don’t think the Winnowers believe Grostin has an effective strategy. If Grostin persists, he’ll be removed from command.”
“Serves him right,” Shira said.
Pol kept silent. The Winnow Society would not accept Grostin for long if he did not work in concert with them. “He’ll be under mind-control soon enough, then.”
“If he isn’t already.” Val stopped talking when a server came for thier order.
Pol had not had a chance to eat at the Emperor’s event. They ordered dinners. “Is the Emperor going to be stretched thin with fighting on three fronts?”
Val nodded. “If he can punish the West Huffnyans, he can address the huge force the Winnowers are collecting in the East.”
“What about Daftine? I’ve only traveled on the eastern edge,” Pol said.
“Hazett has magicians fighting against mind-control. Your brother is training local troops. Daftine is an irritant.”
“That’s what I think, as long as it’s contained,” Pol said. “It’s still another front that Hazett has to worry about. There are other forces that can be employed.” Pol thought of most of Deftnis and the Shinkyan horses as fighting forces. He would have to talk to Demeron about that.
“Regardless, the Winnowers will soon have the numbers in the East.”
Pol juggled different aspects of the pattern in his mind, but some of the pieces needed to show themselves when they fought in West Huffnya.
“Are you still going to West Huffnya?” Pol asked.
Val grunted. “If Malden lets me. Perhaps I’m losing my edge.”
“We can use you to help evaluate a new way of communicating.”
“Malden said he had things to show me when I arrived. Is that it?”
Pol smiled. “What if you were a scout and needed to report information to a General, but were fiv
e miles away?”
“And if I didn’t carry a crate of birds around with me?”
Pol nodded.
“It would take fifteen or twenty minutes of hard riding,” Val said.
“I brought a way back with me from Daera that allows you to communicate immediately.”
“Impossible.”
“Not impossible,” Shira said. “I’ve used it myself, and it works. It’s based on wards.”
“It would give Hazett an advantage until the enemy duplicated the spell.”
“We have a war to win first,” Pol said.
~~~
Chapter Twelve
~
P ol, Val, and Shira sat at a fire on the outskirts of one of five Imperial army camps on their fourth day out from Yastan. The army crawled, and the three of them were getting ready to become scouts and leave the armies behind.
“It’s been a while since I’ve had to do this,” Val said.
Pol did not know if the Seeker was disgruntled or his regular self. Val seemed crankier, but it had been five years since Pol had spent any time with him.
“Non-magical scouts can’t use this,” Shira said.
“Yes, they can. You just illuminate all the pages and let them use a lodestone stylus to write in reverse,” Val said.
Pol had a similar idea, but Val had come to the same conclusion.
“That has disadvantages,” Shira said.
“Of course it does, but we are evaluating the use of rune books, and if something goes wrong, like making a mistake erasing the active dots, a scout can’t fix that,” Pol said.
“There is that,” Val said. He pulled out a map. “Let’s determine where we will go.”
They spent the next half-hour determining their paths. They decided to join up every night to evaluate what they had discovered and how the rune books worked.
After a day of communicating, it became clear to Pol that they needed an alarm of some kind to alert them of messages waiting. They could not be thumbing through a rune book every five minutes. Healers on the plains of Zasos could look at their rune books five or six times a day, but in Pol’s mind, instantaneous information needed to be discovered immediately.
