Navarien nodded and followed him out of the tent. “You were saying?”
“This thing has possibilities. I must confess to being curious if it will work. It should, the spell matrix will be similar to what Julia has already used. You see what I will do is—”
“Please, my lord sorcerer,” Navarien said in a pained voice. “You’ve lost me. How will this help us?”
“You were concerned about Julia finding Lord Athione,” Anius said. “I could devise a spell to make him disappear from her sight using this pretty bauble. Perhaps you could have the ward over the camp dropped so she might see the other prisoners. I’m sure you can think of something.”
Navarien smile wryly. “You are a devious man, Anius.”
“Not at all. It is simply that I enjoy using my magic in new ways. I have no real interest in how you use what I make.”
Navarien pursed his lips at that, but he smiled and they parted ways. Anius went straight to his tent to work on his new project. He wanted to give Keverin his present back as soon as possible.
* * *
Julia awoke to pitch darkness. “Kev?”
Silence.
She tried not to think as she crawled out of the tent. It was night outside and the camp was silent. She was relieved to find it was a clan camp and not legion. Some of the warriors must have survived. There was only a sliver of moon shining down upon the tents, but the sky was clear and starlight blazed in the heavens. Julia stood looking up at the splendour trying to make herself move, but she already knew in her heart that Keverin was gone. He had promised not to leave her… but he was gone. She should have stopped him by force if necessary, but she hadn’t wanted to lose his love. Now he was dead, and she was alone.
Nothing stirred. The campfires blazed close by and far away alike. There were so many it seemed as if the plain was reflecting the stars above. She knew Wolf Clan was all but gone, and the Night Wind was hurt; but what of the other clans? Dragon and Wolf accounted for two out of ten clans destroyed. Had she been unconscious long? Whatever the white fire had been, she had been unable to shield herself against it. The pain had been worse than anything she had ever felt. Even Tancred poisoning paled beside it. Was Shelim alive, was Kerrion? Had they found a way to shield her against the white fire? They must have. That meant they were alive too. She should go find them and… Julia’s shoulders slumped. She felt emptied of emotion. She knew that she should be making plans, but she couldn’t seem to make herself move. What was she doing here? What was the point of staying? Without Kev nothing meant anything anymore, but she couldn’t just walk away. There was Brian to consider, and… Had Lucius and Mathius survived?
She walked aimlessly through the camp. She recognised Kerrion’s tent by the sigils, but no one was home. At least she knew where she was now. She orientated herself and struck toward the Athione camp.
Nothing had been disturbed. The men’s meagre possessions waited for owners who would never come for them. She ducked into her own tent and found Keverin’s cloak lying where he had left it. She picked it up and breathed in his scent; leather and horse and that indefinable thing that was Keverin himself. Her tears were quickly absorbed into the material. She wasn’t much good for tears anymore. She had lost so many friends since coming to Waipara that she must have cried an ocean of tears by now. She didn’t have many left for the one she wished most to cry for.
She retrieved her mirror and called Keverin’s image, but the mirror remained blank. She tried again but still there was nothing. She tried to find Mavra who she knew was dead… nothing appeared—just like Kev. What if her magic was gone? What if the white fire had taken her magic? Kev might be alive. Please God, let him be alive. Let it be her magic that was gone and not him. Trembling with tears running freely over her cheeks she tried to call Shelim’s image. The mirror brightened instantly to show him sitting with others near a roaring fire.
“Oh God…”
Kev was dead. That was why the mirror would not show him. Her magic was unharmed and Kev was dead. Dead! Oh it hurt. God it hurt so much! Why did God hate her? He had taken her parents and He had taken Keverin. All their dreams, all their plans…
“Oh God… no…”
She held the pain in. She rocked back and forth clutching her stomach remembering all the times he had smiled at her. All the times he had whispered he loved her. All the times they had laughed together and planned their future—and she remembered the last time they had spoken together.
“You promised!” she wailed. “You promised you would come back!” she howled and the tears flooded out of her.
Shaking her head and beating her fists on the ground, she howled like one of the damned. She could hardly breathe, the pain was bad. She remembered Keverin riding out of camp beside Brian, riding away from her never to return. He had been strong and beautiful and he had promised to come back. Gone now. He was gone forever.
Julia came back to herself still clutching Kev’s cloak. She buried her face into its folds. Kev was dead and nothing could bring him back, but there was still something she could do for him. Her face hardened with resolve, and she dried her tears on the cloak. Kev was dead, but Navarien was still out there. She needed a plan. Tobiah was dead and Mavra also. She knew Kornel had lost most of his warriors and would not be chief of chiefs. Who would the clans choose? Cadell. It would be Cadell she was sure. Her eyes narrowed and a snarl appeared on her lips. How could she take the clans from him? Kill him? No, that wouldn’t work. The chiefs would challenge her until none were left alive. Maybe advising him would be enough, but what should she tell him to do?
“Jihan will know.”
Julia dragged the mirror into her lap and touched the five circles in the order she had chosen. A chime sounded from thin air and the mirror brightened a moment before steadying down to show a view of a dim room. There was no one there. It was night outside. Of course no one was there. The mirror continued its useless chiming.
“Please Jihan… I need you… pleeeease!”
Julia sat slumped in defeat with the useless mirror in her lap. Jihan and Ahnao must be asleep. No one would hear the mirror. No one would come. She let the chiming continue, she couldn’t think what else to do. She couldn’t think… at all.
“Julia?”
Julia stared at the brooch on Kev’s cloak. The crossed fists of Athione were displayed proudly upon it. She smiled when she remembered Kev telling her—
“Julia?”
She blinked and looked down at the mirror. A brightly lit room had replaced the earlier view. Jihan was looking worriedly at her.
“Oh Jihan…” she cried and more tears fell to splash upon the mirror.
* * *
“I told him. I told him to come home!” Jihan cried.
Ahnao came in then with a shirt for him. He had been in such a hurry that he had pulled on his breeches and rushed bare foot to answer the call of the mirror. He thanked her and pulled the shirt on over his head. He did not bother to tuck it in.
“—so sorry,” Ahnao was saying. “You must come home now, Julia. Promise me you will come home.”
“I can’t.”
“Don’t be a fool!” Jihan snapped. “Kev is gone. I don’t want to lose you too! I’ll come fetch you!”
“No!” Julia snapped with her eyes blazing. “I’ll not leave here until Navarien lies dead at my feet! He killed him. He killed Kev! I will see the entire plain burn before I’ll let him go!”
Jihan glanced at Ahnao’s shocked face then back at Julia. Her eyes were red from crying—so much was expected, but now they shone with madness. He had no doubt she meant what she said.
“If you’re determined to be a fool,” Jihan said icily calm to offset Julia’s heat. “I cannot prevent you. What will you have of me?”
“Advice.”
“Come home—”
“Soldierly advice!” she snapped with her eyes blazing. “How can I destroy Navarien and his legion?”
“You cannot.”
&
nbsp; “I won’t hear that. I won’t hear that, Jihan. You are the best soldier I know. Kev always says—” she broke off with a deep groan, pain radiating from her, but then her face stiffened into a mask again. “He said you’re the best. Tell me how to do it.”
Jihan sighed and stepped behind his desk. In the drawer was a leather tube and inside that were his maps. He pulled them out and studied the border. His finger followed the river and tapped a location about ten leagues north of Denpasser. That was where Navarien had set his camp. He knew because that was where he would set a camp if he had to face the clans. Water was available at need and the river forked just there. It provided a barrier on two sides of the camp. The current was fast and crossing would be difficult.
Jihan traced the quickest route to Denpasser and then further south until the hill country was under his tapping finger. It was the only place, but would it work? He didn’t hold out much hope, but if pushed into action against Navarien, he would choose the hills over the plain any day.
Jihan took the map back to the mirror with him and showed it to Julia. “Go here,” he said tapping the hills. “You can use them to split Navarien’s formations. Break the legion into groups that are more manageable. Bring your full weight to bear on the smaller groups and destroy them utterly if you can. Let none escape to report back.”
“Good,” Julia said with her eyes roving over the map where Jihan held it up. “This is good. I can… we can… good, we can do this.
“It will not be easy,” Jihan warned. “I don’t know if you can win, but the hills will give you the best chance. Navarien will realise this. He will attempt to infiltrate the hills and deny you their use. Let him. When he takes these three,” he circled the highest hills and made certain Julia knew where they were. “When he has them, allow yourself to be seen. Navarien should send a strong force to attack you. When he does, you should have your warriors attack him from all sides and destroy that force to the last man. If you can repeat that enough times, you may weaken him. When the time is right, fall on his main force and attempt to pin it in place. Use the river and back him against it. Take to the heights and rain fire and arrows on him. Try to break his wards and split his formations. The legions are strongest when they fight in formation. Their discipline is their greatest strength.”
“Thank you,” Julia said and the mirror went black.
“Do you want to tell Jessica, or should I?” Ahnao said bleakly.
Oh by the God.
“I had better do it. Will you stay by me?”
“Always,” Ahnao said and turned back to the mirror.
Jihan reached out and stroked the engraving of the crossed fists. The chime sounded and the mirror began to change.
* * *
Julia looked around the tent, but there was nothing here she needed. She ducked out of the tent still carrying the cloak. Where would Lucius be? The council tent most likely. She turned toward the centre of camp and went to see who had lived and who had died.
As she walked she threw the cloak over her shoulders and fastened the broach. She stroked the crossed fists of Athione. Who would be lord now that Kev was gone? Did it matter? Not to her any longer, she supposed, but her friends at the fortress deserved a good lord. She remembered that Keverin had once chosen lord Niklaus as his heir, but Niklaus was lord of Meilan now. Perhaps she should ask Gylaren to install his youngest at Athione. By all accounts Gydrid was a good man. Keverin always says—said that he was the most intelligent man he knew.
Julia stopped in amazement well outside the firelight that stretched for what seemed a league but couldn’t have been. The council tent was nowhere to be seen. It had been replaced by a huge bonfire surrounded by thousands upon thousands of silent warriors sitting cross-legged listening to some kind of debate or council. Julia recognised those in the centre as chiefs. Kerrion and Shelim sat nearby nodding in agreement with what Mazel was saying. Julia listened for a short time. What he was saying made good sense, but it wouldn’t work. She took a deep breath and walked carefully between the sitting men ignoring the whispering warriors. Mazel broke off when he noticed her approach. Shelim rose to his feet to greet her.
“Your friends are fine, Julia. They’re sleeping in my tent,” Shelim said quietly.
Julia nodded and turned to Mazel. “You are chief of chiefs?”
Mazel nodded. “Cadell gave it to me.”
That was surprising. Clansmen thought honour was the be all and all of life. For Cadell to give away leadership of the clans said to her that he had finally realised what was at stake. Better late than never she supposed.
“May I say something?”
“You may speak,” Mazel said and sat down to listen.
Julia stroked her broach as she studied the group of shaman sitting close by. Many of them would not meet her eyes and looked down or away. She dismissed them with a glance. She found warriors that she knew watching her and those she did not. Finally she turned back to the chiefs. Kornel sat at one end still white faced from his loss. He sat alone almost willing himself away from things. He looked halfway toward being outcast already. There was nothing Julia could do about that, but Petya and others were now ready to fight to the death to kill Navarien. She would need them all. She would use them.
“Those that were there know what went right and what went wrong,” Julia said, “but all know we are up against something even three clans could not handle. We are eight clans now. Eight clans against thirty thousand legionnaires. I know you don’t want to hear this, but Keverin says—said that you have no chance against that many if you attack head on like—” she broke off and turned to Mazel. “Was it yesterday?”
Mazel nodded.
“As you did yesterday. Lord Jihan is a great warrior, do you agree?”
“Yes,” Mazel said.
“Never seen better with a blade—”
“Petya’s boy did well to hold him as long as he did—”
Julia raised her voice to be heard. “I have spoken with Jihan and he says the plain is no place to fight the legions. We need to fight together, every one of us. Swords are no use against magic, but shamen are. Shamen should fight the sorcerers, and warriors should fight the legionnaires, but not here.”
Pandemonium!
Warriors were shouting and denouncing her as an outclanner. Others were shouting that they would never leave the plains. The more that was said the more her anger built. She grasped her magic and a peal of thunder shook the sky.
Silent and fearful faces regarded her.
“Do you want to die here?” she snarled. “Do you? What of your families? Is it not better to fight elsewhere and win so you might return in peace?”
“Yes… yes it is better, but where will we go?” Mazel said.
“South. We collect everyone at Denpasser and make toward Deva. The hills will give us more chance to fight the legion and win. I destroyed one in those hills last year. Why not do it again?”
She sat down while the chiefs discussed the situation. It wouldn’t be as easy as she had made it seem; Jihan had made that all too plain, but at least the hills would give them some cover. There was one other advantage; she would be closer to Malcor. Jihan might even bring the new army to fight on the clan’s side. She could hope. Either way, she would make Navarien pay.
* * *
24 ~ Infiltration
Lorcan put away his shielded mirror and eased back from the legion camp. The cursed thing was well designed and guarded, but there was one place less secure. The jakes. He could smell the pits even from here. It was little wonder the sentries avoided it. Lord Keverin would have shouted the place down if his men had been so lax as to leave a hole in the defences like this.
He held absolutely still as he silently counted the sentries and their paces along the wall. It was as he had thought. As soon as the legionnaires caught a whiff of the jakes, they cut short their patrol and retraced their steps. He double and triple checked but every time was the same within a pace or two. By the God
, he hoped the wind didn’t shift!
He pulled a dagger from his boot sheath. He had blackened his hands and face with soot from the campfire and had stolen a set of clothes from Darlinia. She was roughly his size. Rattling beads was something he did not need on a raid like this. He was sure she wouldn’t mind him taking them. They were her leathers, not that he had asked or anything, but she was nice. She would understand.
With blackened dagger in hand, he crawled silently toward the camp until he reached the ditch. A good idea this, he thought as he lowered himself carefully down. There was no way a horse would charge a ditch and wall studded with sharpened stakes like this, but they proved no obstacle to a single man alone. He reached the bottom careful not to knock against the wood. Any sound on a night like this would carry a long way and see the end of him and his self assigned mission.
Climbing the earthwork was both harder and easier than the ditch had been. Easier in that the wall was sloping even if only a little, harder in that he had to stop and flatten to the ground periodically when the sentries approached. Each time he held his breath and released it when they turned away again. He continued up the slope wondering how he was going to cross the open space inside the camp.
He would worry about that when the time came.
Lorcan halted again when he reached the top. Now was the time for someone to see him. As soon as he left the slope he would be vulnerable. There was just a sliver of moon, but someone might still see his silhouette. He counted the paces of the sentries and at fifty rolled across the top and partway down the other side. At sixty, he stopped and flattened this time on the shallower inside slope. He prayed to the God, to his dead parents, he even prayed to the Lady that he hadn’t been seen. He listened intently for an alarm or outcry, but none came. He raised his head in time to see the sentries turning away to continue their useless patrol. He grinned then shut his mouth in case someone saw the flash of his teeth in the starlight. His paranoia had never been so great. Not even stalking a target in the streets of Devarr had heightened his awareness of danger like this. Even thoughts of magic were probably dangerous with this many sorcerers around!
Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Page 134
