The Mongrel Mage

by L. E. Modesitt Jr.

  Deep and dark circles ringed Jessyla’s eyes, still intense green, but clearly tired, and even without trying, Beltur could sense her order levels were far too low. He tried not to show his concern. “You’ve been working hard, haven’t you?”

  “Too hard, Mother says.”

  He gestured to the other bed. “You need to sit down.” He paused, then added, “You need to rest.” More than I do.

  “It’s hard to do that. There are so many.” She eased onto the other bed, directly across from Beltur, and looked directly at him. “She wouldn’t let me see you yesterday. She said you’d be all right, and that I’d need every bit of order just to get through yesterday and today.”

  “She let you come to see me so you wouldn’t try to heal any more troopers.”

  “She didn’t say that, but…” Jessyla smiled faintly. “… she didn’t have to.” She moistened her lips. “You … it was very close … yesterday, Mother said.”

  “Closer than I knew. She told me not to use any order for anything. I could tell she meant it.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  “I didn’t know how much order I was using. It’s hard to tell when people are trying to kill you and a white mage is throwing chaos-bolts at you, and when everyone around you will die if you don’t hold some shields.”

  “I … think … that was what was … supposed to happen.”

  “That I wouldn’t know and would do too much?”

  She nodded. “I had this feeling … when Mother told me. I went and asked Athaal if any other mages were assisting the other reconnaissance companies. None of them are. They’re all with heavy foot companies. Or they’re shielding important officers.”

  “I didn’t know that.” Beltur couldn’t say that it surprised him.

  “You don’t look that surprised.”

  “Now that you’ve told me, it makes sense. I’m pretty sure that Athaal doesn’t have as strong a shield as I do, and I can do more things with order at the same time than he can. I’ve never said anything, but I saw his expression when he heard that I’d held four separate shields at once, and he admitted it later.”

  “You’re not angry? You should be furious. Cohndar and Waensyn set you up to die out there.”

  “I’ve known all along that neither of them liked me. I didn’t think they were quite that bad.” But you should have. Except he couldn’t believe that Cohndar would risk the lives of other Spidlarian troopers and officers just to see him dead. “I think I know why Waensyn doesn’t.” He looked directly at Jessyla. “I think you do, too.”

  “I can’t stand him. Weasels and vulcrows are honorable compared to him. Mother thinks so, too. You have to be more careful from now on.”

  “I don’t know about careful. I’m going to have to be more effective without using as much order. I can’t very well just walk away. Then they’d have every reason in the world to get rid of me. The Prefect and Arms-Mage of Gallos already want me dead. The last thing I need is the Council thinking the same thing, and if word got out that two lands wanted me dead, how long would I last somewhere else … unless I hid and lived as a laborer … or worse. I can’t do that.” Not now that I’ve known you.

  “Why do little people make life so difficult?” demanded Jessyla.

  “Because they’re little people.” Because they can’t stand the thought of someone they want to look down on as being better … or not worshipping them … or …

  “You have to take care.” She leaned forward and took his hands. “You have to.”

  Beltur managed a grin. “Only if you promise to.”

  Jessyla started to say something, then laughed, shaking her head.

  “What is it?” Beltur was totally confused. Why was what you said so funny?

  “Mother … That’s what … who…”

  What did Margrena have to do with it?

  When Beltur didn’t speak immediately, Jessyla went on. “Don’t you see? Why else did she want us to see each other?”

  Beltur finally did. He just shook his head, still holding Jessyla’s hands, knowing that neither of them could afford to do more.

  LXVI

  Sevenday began much the same as sixday had, except Beltur woke in somewhat less pain, but with more soreness and stiffness. Some of that passed after he had a full breakfast, and he felt a little less stiff after muster as he and Zandyr walked toward the captain’s study.

  Once the four officers were seated around the small table, Laugreth offered a crooked smile. “We’ve been assigned an actual recon mission today. Locals have been saying they saw a few Gallosian troopers on the road to Axalt, some five to six kays east of the city walls. Recon Three is still at full strength. We’re not. So we’re to head out and see what we can find. We’re not to engage any superior force, but if we encounter one, we’re to delay the Gallosians as much as possible without incurring significant casualties.” Laugreth paused. “The majer didn’t define what he meant by significant.”

  Beltur was afraid he understood what the captain wasn’t saying, or at least the fact that the majer was sending the weakest company to scout, because the strongest one might be needed to reinforce any weak point in the Spidlarian lines.

  Laugreth looked to Beltur. “You’re not back to full strength. What exactly are you able to do?”

  That was a question Beltur didn’t want to answer, because he was anything but certain. He also knew he had to give the best reply that he could. “I could sense a Gallosian force at a little over a kay. I could hold a concealment over a squad for perhaps half a glass. I can’t shield anyone right now for more than a few moments.” Beltur wasn’t about to point out that he likely could—and would—shield himself. “The longer I don’t have to do any of that the more I should be able to do.”

  “Should?”

  “I’ve never been that close to dying before,” said Beltur. “I don’t know how fast I’ll recover and how strong I’ll be.”

  Gaermyn looked surprised.

  Laugreth didn’t. He just nodded and said, “One of the senior healers told me that. We’ve already lost one mage from something similar.”

  Beltur wondered if he’d known the mage who died. He also wondered why Margrena had told Laugreth and not him.

  “Pardon me…” interjected Gaermyn. “I knew you were exhausted, and the rankers had to keep you in the saddle, but…”

  “It’s a little like bleeding to death. All of us have order and chaos in our bodies. Both are necessary. If a mage loses too much of either, he will die, just as a man who loses too much blood will die. It takes a great deal of order to hold a shield, especially against chaos-bolts. The chaos-bolt and the order in the shield combine and explode.” Margrena hadn’t told him that part, but he’d seen and felt it. “That destroys the force of both, but after a time it drains order from me. If I hadn’t kept holding the shield on fiveday, we’d have died immediately.” His explanation was an oversimplification, but true for all that, and he wasn’t about to mention that he’d actually been without shields at the end.

  Laugreth nodded. “It’s not just exhaustion. Think of it as the same as exhaustion and a huge loss of blood.” He looked, not at Gaermyn, but Zandyr, then back to Beltur. “Mount up immediately. We need to be riding out in less than half a glass. That’s all.” He stood.

  Immediately after that dismissal, Beltur rounded up his water bottles, all four of them and made his way to the mess area.

  The ranker there took one look at the black cuffs on Beltur’s uniform and filled all four, then said, “Best of luck, ser.”

  “Thank you.” Beltur just hoped he didn’t need luck.

  As he was walking into the stable area, Gaermyn walked up beside him.

  “I didn’t realize…” offered the older officer.

  “There’s no reason you’d know.” Beltur laughed softly. “I didn’t even realize all of that until afterward. I wasn’t trained as an arms-mage, and helping forge cupridium is very different from what I had to do on f
iveday.” And what you’re going to have to keep doing, if you want to stay alive.

  “Does Zandyr talk to you very much?”

  “Usually only in passing. One of the few things he wanted to know was why I was forging cupridium. He seemed more surprised at how valuable it is than why it was useful to white wizards.”

  “I have to say that I don’t know that, either.”

  “A truly strong white can’t handle iron, especially bare-handed, without pain, sometimes burns, and in rare cases, a slight wound from an iron weapon can kill whites. They can handle a cupridium blade. That’s also why their knives and razors are bronze or cupridium. Cupridium is actually just order-and-chaos-reinforced bronze, but the order locks the chaos within the metal.” Beltur laughed softly. “That’s probably more than you wanted to know.”

  “Of course. That’s why all the iron-shafted arrows. I’d thought they were more to get through the mage’s shields.”

  “That, too.”

  “Thank you. I’ll see you in a bit.” Gaermyn turned, presumably toward where his mount was stalled.

  Beltur wondered why Gaermyn was interested in what Zandyr had to say, beyond the obvious fact that both Gaermyn and Laugreth had concerns about the blond undercaptain.

  A stableboy hurried toward Beltur as he neared Slowpoke’s stall. “I gave him a few more oats this morning, ser.”

  Beltur smiled, knowing the youth was hoping for something, but that was fine with him. He dug a copper from his belt wallet. “Thank you. I’d offer more, but undercaptains don’t get paid that much, and I haven’t even been paid yet.”

  The youth grinned in return as he took the copper. “You know he’s one of the biggest horses in the stable?”

  “I hadn’t looked, but it’s a good thing for me that he is.” At the stableboy’s quizzical look, Beltur added, “He’s gotten me out of some tight situations.” Even if you’ve been the one to put you both there.

  Beltur didn’t dawdle in saddling Slowpoke, but he didn’t rush, either. He didn’t see any point in using any more energy than he needed, at least not until he was back to full strength. He hoped that it wouldn’t be too long.

  Even though he was deliberate, he and Slowpoke arrived and took their place at the head of First Squad just before Zandyr appeared and eased his mount in front of Third Squad.

  Almost at that exact moment, the captain ordered, “Company! Forward!”

  Once the company was well away from the piers, Beltur asked, “Have you heard anything else, ser?”

  “The Gallosians moved some of their forces on the other side of the river even farther to the west.”

  “To try and spread us out?”

  “That’s what the majer thinks. He’s probably right, but that would only help us. The fall crops have already been harvested, and the large growers have moved or sold their harvest. That just means we face fewer troopers attacking Elparta.”

  “Are there enough small growers to supply the Gallosians?”

  “I doubt it will matter. If we hold them off until the snows begin to fall, there won’t be enough to supply them through the winter, even if they raid all the holdings.”

  Beltur couldn’t help but think that it would matter very much to the smallholders. “Then the Gallosians need to attack before long.”

  “It would seem that way to me, but I’m just a captain.”

  There wasn’t much Beltur could say to that, and he didn’t.

  In less than a third of a glass, Second Recon was on the road to Axalt, riding east. Before long, Beltur could make out Jorhan’s house and smithy. While the house was shuttered, as was every dwelling that Beltur had passed, a thin trail of smoke rose from the smithy, a faint white line against the cool and clear green-blue sky. Beltur hoped that meant Jorhan was still smithing and not carrying a shield for the Spidlarian forces, unlikely as that might be.

  “Can you sense any forces?” asked Laugreth.

  “Not yet, ser.”

  “The way you say that … Is this a feeling on your part that there might be some farther away?”

  “No, ser.” I wish it were. “I just can’t tell beyond that.”

  “Let me know if you do sense anything.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  They rode almost another two kays, and as Beltur was capping his water bottle after taking several swallows of ale, he began to sense something. “Ser?”

  “Yes?”

  “There aren’t any large groups. There are four riders near the road about a kay ahead, just to the east of it. On a rise, I think.”

  “Four riders. That’s more likely scouts than locals.” Laugreth glanced at Beltur. “Are you able to conceal a squad for a bit? Once we get close. Not right now.”

  “I should be able to for a while.”

  “Then you and I will accompany Second Squad, and we’ll move out in front of the rest of the company. You’ll tell me when you think we’re getting close enough that they’re likely to see us.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Company! Halt!” Laugreth turned. “Vaertaag, send someone to inform Undercaptain Gaermyn he’s needed up here.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Before that long, Gaermyn reined up beside the captain. “Ser?”

  “Beltur’s sensed four riders up ahead. I don’t want Beltur trying to conceal the entire company. So I’m going to take Beltur and Second Squad and see what we can find out. You’re to give us about half a kay head start and then follow. Hold the separation, as well as you can, since we’ll go under a concealment at some point.”

  “Yes, ser. Should I give Undercaptain Zandyr the rearguard.”

  “Just for now.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  Before long, Laugreth, Beltur, and Squad Leader Chaeryn led Second Squad along the road, into a breeze blowing out of the east, a wind much cooler than Beltur had felt before in Spidlar. He scanned the horizon but could see no sign of clouds.

  “Where are those riders now?” Laugreth asked after they had covered another three hundred yards.

  “They haven’t moved. I’d judge they’re about half a kay beyond where the road curves around that hill on the left. They’re back from the road, possibly in woods or an orchard. They might be on a rise or low hill.”

  “That suggests they’re scouts. They could see anyone coming for a distance.” Laugreth frowned. “Do you sense anyone else? Any other force?”

  “No, ser. I’d thought to raise a concealment just before we’d come into their sight.”

  “Good.” Laugreth turned in the saddle. “Squad Leader. Pass it back that we’ll be entering a concealment just before the road straightens around the next bend. Have them go to a staggered formation so they can hold position.”

  “Yes, ser.”

  The road was relatively exposed, with harvested fields and pastures on the north side, and undulating gentle slopes to the south. The lower slopes beside the road held rows of bushes, redberry, Beltur thought, with trees above them.

  “With all these redberry bushes…?” Beltur offered.

  “You wonder why no one seems to drink it here?” asked Laugreth.

  “That thought had occurred to me.”

  “I’m told that’s because most of the redberries are dried and added to ship’s rations so that the sailors don’t get mouth rot. The Hamorians use lemons for that, but it’s far too cold for lemons and limes here. You can use greenberries the same way, but if you’ve ever tried to chew a greenberry, you’d see why no one does.”

  Beltur nodded, although he’d never heard of greenberries.

  As they neared where the road straightened after the curve around the hill, Beltur said, “It’s time for the concealment.”

  “Go ahead.”

  Beltur placed the concealment over the squad, then checked on the four riders. “The riders are moving toward the road.”

  “Quickly or slowly?”

  “At a walk.”

  “We’ll keep moving and see what happen
s.”

  After perhaps a tenth of a glass, Beltur said, “They’ve reached the road, and they’re heading east.”

  “How far away are they?”

  “Three hundred yards.”

  “Drop the concealment. Let’s see who they are.”

  Beltur dropped the concealment and immediately could see that the four riders ahead of them all wore gray uniforms.

  At the appearance of the Spidlarian squad, all four riders spurred their mounts into a gallop.

  “Let them go. There’s no point in wearing out the horses chasing them.” Laugreth turned to Beltur. “Are there any other groups of riders near?”

  “There might be another four. They’re directly south of us. A little farther than a kay. Maybe a kay and a half. It’s hard to tell.”

  “They’ll be on the hill road we took before. Can you tell which way they’re headed?”

  “No, ser. I don’t think they’re moving.”

  “Squad! Halt!” After a moment, the captain added, “We’ll just let the rest of the company catch up and see what the other Gallosian scouts are doing.”

  Beltur nodded, then pulled out his water bottle and took a long swallow of ale.

  By the time the rest of the company joined them, it was clear that the other four riders were headed east as well.

  “We’ll go east for another two kays and see what we find … or don’t. Then we’ll head back. We don’t want to get too far from Elparta.”

  Slightly less than a glass later, Laugreth called another halt after Beltur could sense no groups of riders anywhere.

  “This is as far as we go.” The captain smiled sourly. “We’ve only seen four Gallosian scouts, and we’re more than six kays from Elparta.”

  Once Second Recon turned and headed back along the road toward Elparta, Beltur took another swallow of ale from his water bottle, thinking that despite what was turning into an uneventful day in the saddle, he was beginning to be able to sense farther away than he had been able to do that morning. “We don’t have much to report.”