The Queen of Mages

by Benjamin Clayborne

The passing wind chilled Amira’s face. Pale morning sunlight glowed through thin clouds above, softening shadows and giving the city of Elland a flat aspect. Amira was on her mare, racing for the west gate. Dardan followed close behind; their valai had fallen back a ways. Amira was no great rider, but her urgency pushed her ahead.

  The city’s west gate came into view. Whoever manned the gate had had enough sense to close it against the approaching army. An army of a thousand men or more, Amira guessed, after she climbed the stairs to the top of the wall and looked out over the rain-dampened grasses. The unmistakable standard of Relindos stood tall among the mass of soldiers a few hundred yards from the gate. Some other travellers had become trapped between them and the city, a small array of carts and wagons belonging to farmers and merchants. Some of them had begun to skitter along the wall, perhaps searching for a gate still open, or even just to escape before the approaching army encircled them.

  The exertion of riding and climbing the wall had made Amira’s chest tight. She gulped cold air and tried to will her pulse to settle. The presence of Relindos banners did not mean Edon was there for certain—Wardens Iris and Penrose had carried such banners in Stony Vale—but Amira had no doubt in her mind. She glimpsed silver sparks among the mass of soldiers: mages, turned for a moment so that their silver light was visible even at this distance.

  “Is it him?” Dardan asked. He bulled aside a city guardsman and leaned against the wall. The guardsman opened his mouth to object, then thought better of confronting two agitated nobles.

  “It must be,” she said. “There are mages out there, at least. A lot of them.” It was hard to count the flashes of silver light, but she’d seen at least a dozen so far.

  Liam and Katin came up just then, and a few moments later Razh and Patric followed. Count Razh gazed out at the soldiers. “By the Caretaker! How many do you think there are?” he asked Amira, his breath frosting a little in the morning chill.

  “A score. Two. Maybe more. I don’t know.”

  “We knew it might come to this. Which of our students do you think could handle battle?”

  Amira clenched her jaw. The thought of her students, facing Edon and whatever mages he’d brought, sickened her. “Garen, Francine, Sophie, Emma, Cora, Vincent for certain. Jeffrey. The two of us. Benton. Edith. Maybe a dozen altogether. The others…” The newer mages would never survive a battle. Even those who had good control over their power had been farmers, apprentices, laborers. All of them young—mage power seemed to only come upon those who were nineteen or twenty years of age. None of the male mages had ever been in worse than a malthouse brawl, and the girls not even that.

  None save Garen and Amira. Razh had been trained in martial matters the same as any count’s son, but there was a black chasm between learning about warfare and practicing it.

  She had no choice. “We need everyone up here, except the newest. Anyone who can block at all.”

  Razh nodded at Patric, and the old valo rushed down the steps.

  He hadn’t yet returned by the time two riders detached from the army and cantered toward the city. When the man leading the pair angled around a dip in the land, Amira saw the telltale silver flash. Was this Edon, come to demand surrender again? But this man had darker hair and was slight, built not at all like Edon. He wore a rich scarlet cloak and polished black boots. He reined to a halt a scant handful of yards from the wall. Any half-blind archer could pick him off from here, but he displayed no fear, only a haughty confidence.

  “Good morning,” he called out. “I bear the words of His Majesty Edon Relindos, King of Garova. He bids the audience of Count Razh Bahodir and Countess Amira Tarian.”

  “A bit more polite than last time,” Liam muttered.

  “It seems he knows I’m here,” Amira said. “No point in hiding.” She leaned over the crenel. “You there. Who are you?”

  The dark-haired man sketched a bow. “I am Lord Chyros Agari, son of Baron Roben Agari of Brookshire. Are you Countess Tarian?”

  “I am. If you are indeed Edon’s envoy, then he has likely told you of the last time he demanded I produce myself from behind a wall.”

  Lord Chyros’s mouth quirked into a smile. “His majesty has favored me with that tale, yes.”

  “Why does he not come himself, as in Hedenham?”

  “Why does the king not draw his own bath, or cook his own food? Besides, it is my pleasure to serve his majesty.”

  “Such does not speak well of you,” Amira retorted.

  Lord Chyros laughed, without scorn or derision. “He told me you had a wit. Perhaps I myself might be admitted to the city? I am only one man, and it would be more pleasant, I’m sure, to treat face to face than shouting out here in the cold.”

  “You are only one mage,” Amira corrected him. “And you have your valo with you.”

  Chyros shrugged. “You can see that he’s no mage. I daresay you have enough men in there to keep him contained while we speak.”

  Amira looked at Dardan. He watched the whole scene with brow furrowed, concern written plainly across his face. She felt a great deal of love for him, and only the faintest trace of bitterness, from their arguments this winter past. Would that have to persist forever? “He is indeed only one man,” Dardan said, “even if he is a mage. I do not think Edon would send such a man to assassinate you.”

  “I know what Edon wants. Why treat with him at all?” Amira said.

  “To buy time. The students should be here soon. If Edon attacks the city, we’ll need every defender we can muster.” He addressed Razh. “How many guards does the city watch have?”

  “Two hundred or so. We have arms for maybe twice that, and can conscript men if need be. I don’t know that they’d be of much use unless Edon’s soldiers get into the city. With our mages, we can prevent Edon’s from smashing through the wall, perhaps indefinitely. But he can still besiege us, and I cannot expect anyone would come to our rescue.”

  “He hasn’t spread his forces out yet,” Liam pointed out.

  Amira shook her head. “He’s arrogant. He still thinks there’s a chance I’ll surrender willingly.” She realized her hands ached from clenching tightly on her skirt. She let go and flexed her fingers for a moment. “I suppose it would not hurt to listen to this Lord Chyros.”

  Dardan nodded. “Yes, but we must be cautious, even if he is only one man. How many mages would you have with you to feel safe against him launching some sort of surprise attack?”

  “We’ve experimented,” Amira said. “Any two mages can easily keep a third suppressed.”

  “Then let us have four, in addition to you and Razh, who will be distracted by talking to the fellow.”

  Amira felt her pride tingle a little, and she almost argued that they’d be fine—but he was right. Her pride need not come before safety. And they did not need more bitterness between them.

  Dardan took Liam down the stairs to arrange somewhere for the meeting to happen. Amira leaned out again. “Forgive the delay, Lord Chyros. The gate will be opened for you in a moment.”

  Chyros sketched a deeper bow this time, then turned aside to converse quietly with his valo. Amira pulled away from the battlement, her chest heaving. She hadn’t realized until it was quiet how loudly her heart thumped. She focused on her ember. It was a warm comfort against the chill morning air.

  They went down the steps and waited in the square before the gate. Dardan had ordered the city guards to clear the square. A variety of curious onlookers were gathered at the roads leading deeper into the city, but they stayed well back.

  After a moment, Dardan came out of a counting-house on one edge of the square, and waved when he saw Amira and Razh. “In here will do,” he said. “Master Coleman has been kind enough to provide us with the needed quarters.”

  Only a minute later, Patric came riding back at speed with what looked like the entire school’s student body. “Pardons, m’lady, but once they heard what was going on, they all insisted on coming.” He looked faint
ly embarrassed behind his white mustache at failing to manage a bunch of children, but Razh clapped him on the shoulder and commended him for his quick riding.

  Amira faced her students. “Emma, Francine, Sophie, Cora. I need you four with me.” She explained their plan to meet with Edon’s emissary. “The rest of you… I will not order you to fight, but I can promise you that Edon will give you no quarter if he does attack. We may be facing our deaths today. Those of you who would see to our defense, please array yourselves along the top of the wall.”

  “To do what, m’lady?” asked Jeffrey. He was tall, blond, with a sweet face that belied a deranged enthusiasm that emerged whenever he got to use his power. He was loyal and friendly, but seemed to like nothing more than blowing things up, which sometimes worried Amira.

  “To watch Edon and his army, and if they attack…” She gulped. “Do what you can.”

  Jeffrey nodded and exchanged uneasy glances with the other students as they trotted off toward the wall.

  Amira took Dardan aside a little ways. “I do not want Lord Chyros feeling overwhelmed. There will already be six of us in there, against only him.”

  “He did not strike me as particularly susceptible to intimidation,” Dardan said. “We should leave our valai outside, but I will not miss this meeting.”

  Amira sighed. “Fine. But please, let me and Razh do the talking. Lord Chyros will most likely want to converse directly with us, since we are all mages.”

  Dardan’s face closed up. “More mage-work. I suppose I would have nothing to offer.” That last came out bitter. Amira pursed her lips and made a silent prayer to the Aspect of Despair that Dardan would let go of that feeling.

  Once the guards atop the wall verified that Edon’s army had kept its distance, the gate was unbarred and opened just enough to admit Lord Chyros Agari and his valo. The valo glared suspiciously at everyone and kept his hand on his sword, but Chyros ordered him to dismount and surrender his weapon to the city guards. Chyros readily handed over his own sword as well.

  Only once he was thus disarmed would the city guards let Razh or Amira come near the man. Not that the guards were much of a threat to him, but that was their training. Emma, Francine, and the others had kept their beads ready the whole time, in case Chyros did attempt some attack. But he hadn’t even summoned a bead of his own. He merely glanced at the other beads with a contemptuous smile.

  “My lord,” Amira said, bowing slightly.

  Chyros, to his credit, bowed as deeply as baron’s son should before a count and countess. “My lady. Count Bahodir. Count Tarian. I know we are not friends, but perhaps you could provide some wine while we converse? I’m unaccustomed to riding so long through open country as his majesty has had us doing.”

  Amira caught Katin’s eye—her vala had taken up station a few yards off, as Amira had instructed—and nodded. Katin rushed off. “Have you been on the road long?” Amira asked conversationally. She gestured toward the counting-house, and Chyros led the way. City guards followed them close, clearly hostile to their visitor. Amira hoped Razh had told the men to behave themselves; it would not do to send Edon his envoy back full of holes.

  “A few weeks,” Chyros said. “An army as large as ours does not travel at speed.” He settled into a dark-stained oak chair behind a desk festooned with scales, ledgers, inkwells, and papers. There were several other such desks arranged around the edge of the room. The building had been emptied of people, save for a pair of city guards stationed at the door.

  Half a dozen chairs had been arranged in front of the desk. On impulse, Amira whispered to her fellow mages to ask that they stand. Only she and Razh and Dardan would sit. Dardan was probably right that Chyros might not be easily intimidated, but it couldn’t hurt to have her mages looking down upon him with hard eyes. They all knew what Edon had done; any agent of Edon’s was no friend of theirs.

  Amira and Razh sat, but Dardan stayed standing behind Amira, his hands resting on the back of the chair. It felt good to have him there, but she wanted to be able to see his eyes. Clearly he wanted to feel, and perhaps look, protective of her.

  “Not to leave the pleasantries behind too quickly, my lord,” Razh said once the nobles were settled, “but I believe we should focus on the matter at hand.”

  “Too true, my lord,” Chyros said, stretching out his legs. “Well. His majesty, as I said before, wishes to meet with the two of you.”

  “To what end?” Amira asked.

  Chyros leaned forward and put his palms on the desk. “To discuss how we will all put the unfortunate events of the past behind us, and move forward to forge a greater destiny for all the mages of Garova. Ah.” His eyes lit up as Katin came in with a tray bearing wine cups and a ceramic jar. She poured the wine, eyeing Chyros all the while.

  When she stepped back against the wall and waited, Amira said, “Thank you, that will be all.” Katin gave her a withering glare as she went out the door, but Amira ignored her.

  Chyros drank deep from his cup without even stopping to sniff at it. Razh caught Amira’s eye, and she wondered if he was thinking the same thing: Lord Chyros fears no poison from us. Do we really seem that harmless to him? Perhaps it was only a brave show on his part. Even if so, he was acting a great deal braver than Amira felt at the moment.

  “You were saying something about destiny?”

  “Yes. We hear that you have founded something of a school here, which is most commendable, but I’m afraid his majesty cannot have such a thing out of his control.”

  “A reasonable demand, if Edon were a reasonable man,” Amira said. “But he has poisoned the well, so to speak. What he has done is unforgivable.”

  “And yet must be forgiven, for he is the king, and there will be no other for many years to come. I do not think either of us want a war for the throne.”

  Amira hesitated. No sane person wanted war, but how could she live with Edon on the throne? No matter what he did or said, she would never trust him, and she could never surrender herself to his control. The feeling reinforced itself with every beat of her heart. “I have no reason to trust Edon, but he has no reason to distrust me. All I have done was in self-defense against his actions, which even you must admit were unjust in the extreme. So therefore I propose that we be left alone to manage our affairs as mages as we see fit. Edon can do what he likes with mages who have decided to support him.”

  “But you are still Edon’s subjects. The realm cannot run if counts may ignore lawful orders issued by their king. There is too much at stake. And do you know for certain that Garovans are the only people to have developed this power? What if there are Vaslander mages, or Parilian, or Liahni? It does not take much imagination to guess that foreign nations might be emboldened by this new weapon, and attempt attacks or invasions that they might not otherwise.” Chyros’s smile had vanished by now, and he leaned forward urgently. “Garova would never let its army of regular soldiers split into factions and defend the realm as they see fit. Neither will it let its new army do so.”

  “We are no army,” Razh scoffed. “We are merely trying to find our place in the world.”

  “Then you are a naïve fool,” Chyros snapped. Was this new anger just a ploy, or had he really expected Amira to fold so easily, and become agitated by her refusal? “His majesty’s forces, both mundane and magical, outnumber yours, and he has the whole realm at his disposal. He would rather not destroy valuable resources such as yourselves, but he will if he has to.” He locked eyes with Razh. “You were a loyal subject of the king’s, as was your father, and his father before him. What do you think will happen to the people of this county if you countenance a war here?”

  Razh stiffened. “Do not threaten my people. If there is war here, it will be your doing, not ours.”

  “The commoners will not see it that way.” Chyros stood up abruptly. He had begun to turn red. “I will tell King Edon of your refusal. The black spirits take you all.”

  The other mages all gasped, and even the nor
mally amiable Razh glowered at the malediction. Amira shot to her feet and summoned her bead. “Your discourtesy marks you as Edon’s creature through and through,” she spat. “Get out.”

  Chyros inclined his head only an insulting fraction and strode for the door. Amira and the other mages followed him out and watched him carefully until he had reclaimed his sword, mounted his horse, and led his valo back out through the gate.

  Amira looked around at all those who had gathered to her. Her husband, their valai, Count Razh, who had given them so much. The other mages, all so young. Cold fear slithered through her. “We must prepare for battle,” she said, looking at the city gate. She could see silver sparks glint through it from time to time. Never before had that sight made her feel dread.

  ———

  They spent the rest of the day preparing for a siege. Razh had the ships at the docks warned that a mage battle might be coming, and that they’d be safer if they put a few hundred yards of water between them and the city. As soon as Edon’s army began to spread out, to encircle the city, the other gates were shut. Not that the attackers had to come in through the gates; Edon and his mages could just as easily blast through the walls.

  Razh had a map of the city brought to them. They would all have been more comfortable at the castle, but Razh and Amira were two of the strongest mages in the city; their power could not be hidden far from where it might be needed. So they commandeered the counting-house again as their base of operations. A desk was cleared and Razh laid out the map before them. Amira peered at the little markings indicating the walls, gates, and important buildings within the city.

  The school’s mages, all except one, agreed to help defend the city. The only one who refused was a wisp of a girl named Siobhan, who said she was too terrified. In any case she was among the newest and weakest mages, so Razh instead drafted her as a messenger, to ride about the city and carry news from one defensive position to another.

  The other mages were arrayed along the city walls. By watching for the silver light, they were able to determine that Edon had spread the bulk of his mages along the north and west of the city. The soldiers to the south had only one or two mages with them, presumably to prevent that direction from being an easy escape. Edon’s men did not go around to the docks at all; perhaps they’d assumed that with the ships all out to sea, there was no way Amira would try to escape in that direction.

  Not that she had any intention of fleeing. Battle was coming, and it was because of her, wasn’t it? Just like at Foxhill Keep. The memory of that dark night chilled her. She shook it off and peered at the map, wishing there were some way to stop Edon, some way that would not mean the deaths of hundreds or thousands of men, the deaths of her mages, her friends… maybe her vala or her husband. Dardan had been gruff all day, and she could not blame him. Perhaps he was having the same worries. She longed to embrace him and rest her head against his shoulder.

  “Is there any chance we could attack him first?” Garen asked when she went up to the wall to gaze out at Edon’s forces in the afternoon sun. She’d come to walk a circuit of the city and check on her mages, while Dardan and Razh led the efforts down below to arrange the mundane guards and plan for if—when—Edon’s forces breached the walls.

  Amira shrugged. “I asked the same thing of Count Razh. He and Dardan both said we’d be slaughtered. At least here we have some measure of defense.”

  Garen leaned against the merlon, as if eager to run out himself and wreak havoc. Amira had been amazed by his growth in the time since they’d left Stony Vale. He’d always had a good head on his shoulders, even back in that little town, and he had adjusted easily to the wider world. When they’d begun the school, he’d volunteered to teach everything he knew. The other students looked to him for guidance when Amira wasn’t around. “Then I intend to make him pay for every bloody inch he takes,” Garen declared.

  There was a time when she’d have smiled at that, but now she felt that cold shiver again. She could not share his confidence. But she didn’t want to undermine it, either. She nodded and moved on to check on the other mages.

  At the northwest corner of the city wall Amira stopped again to look out at Edon’s army. Cora was stationed there with another of the young mages, Irion. Cora was tall and plump, with a hawk nose and steel eyes. She had an ungainly way of moving and some of the other students had made fun of her at first, but she worked hard and had come to almost rival Francine in her deftness and agility with the power. Amira had once watched Cora hold off three other mages throwing beads at her; none of them could get past her defense to hit a target behind her.

  She only nodded to the girl, though. Cora did not do well with small talk, and preferred silence. Just as well; Amira wanted a little solitude for the moment.

  Not that she got it. Katin had cleaved quietly to her side all day, and no sooner had Amira stopped to look out over the wall again than her vala spoke. “We’re doomed,” she said quietly.

  Amira eyed her. “I’d been planning to wait until later to surrender unconditionally.”

  Katin met her gaze. Amira expected Katin’s usual brusqueness, but now she saw only sadness. “I’m pregnant.”

  Amira’s jaw dropped open. “Katin! Why—how—how long have you known?”

  “My moon blood hasn’t come twice now. It’s no coincidence.”

  Amira felt a sudden glee for her friend and embraced her, but Katin did not share it. “I shouldn’t have told you,” the vala muttered. “You have too much to worry about. And we’re likely all going to die here. You know that.”

  “I know nothing,” Amira said. “I know nothing except that we will win because while Edon fights for glory and pride, we fight for our lives. We will be the fiercer today, for we have more to protect. But you must go and hide. Down near the docks. The fighting may not reach there even if Edon comes into the city.”

  “No—m’lady, my place is with you—”

  “I will not hear of it! I mean nothing by it, but you will be useless in a battle. You have someone else to protect now.” She touched Katin’s belly and, for a brief moment, thought she sensed the life within. “Go. You must.”

  Katin stared at her for too long, then nodded slightly and turned away. Amira was happy for her, but couldn’t help feeling vexed. Another life that we might lose.

  That night she dreamt of flying over Garova, swift as a bird. She was a bird. She flew past Seawatch, over the Black Mountains, and landed before the Skysilver Spire. Then she was herself again. She touched the Spire, and it opened, and took her to another world, one where everything made sense and no one was trying to kill her.

  ———

  The attack came at dawn. It was traditional, Razh had warned her the previous night. This way, the whole day was free for battle. Edon had been impatient at Foxhill Keep, attacking in the night. Battle was chaotic enough without doing it in darkness.

  With mages, the attacking army had no need for traditional siege machinery. Elland had a goodly number of bowmen and a modest supply of arrows. Even small bows had a greater range than mages did. With luck, they’d thin out Edon’s soldiers and maybe even pick off a few mages.

  But when the first flocks of arrows rose into the morning sky, both sides discovered just how useless the bowmen were. Edon had enough mages that their beads rose like lightning into the sky to meet the falling arrows, and dozens of shafts were blasted to bits or burned to ash as they fell. Only a few arrows even reached the ground, and Amira saw only one that actually hit a man.

  When Edon’s mages got closer, they began flinging their beads toward the walls. Amira didn’t see Edon in his golden armor, and wondered if perhaps he had disguised himself so as to be less of a target, or if perhaps Lord Chyros had lied and Edon was not even with the army at all. No. He’s out there. Edon would oversee this battle himself, she was certain.

  She and the other mages ran back and forth along the wall, to where Edon’s mages had gathered in clusters, trying to break through
. She watched for their deadly silver beads, and sent her own beads rushing to intercept and dissipate them. The buzzing in her head was near-constant.

  Edon’s mages certainly had the numerical advantage; there were two or three of them for every one on the walls of Elland. But defending was easier than attacking, and so for a while there was a stalemate. Amira suffered more from the fatigue of her body than of her mind; she could barely stop for a drink of water, though city guardsmen kept her and her mages well-supplied.

  After more than an hour without any progress, Edon’s men pulled back at a series of shouts from someone further back. She thought perhaps it was Lord Chyros, orchestrating their efforts. Amira went and found Garen and Francine, their heads together as they discussed what they’d seen so far.

  “They’re slow, m’lady,” Francine said to her. The girl wore the same cotton dress she’d worn the day they’d found her at her farm, a dress she washed and ironed and neatly folded each night.

  “You’re freakishly fast,” Garen said to her, and Francine blushed, smiling. Amira had seen the two of them walking together in the castle’s yard from time to time, holding hands. Good for them, if they’d found companionship.

  Francine pulled nervously on her braid. “I mean they’re slow even for normal mages. I don’t know if they’ve been drilling and training like us. If they timed it right, they could slip a bead past… well, past me, even. But they just throw the beads like sh—um, like throwing mud at a wall, and hoping something sticks.”

  Garen nodded. “Even still, we’re spending all our time blocking their beads. I doubt we’ll ever get a bead through to use against them.” He glanced around, and added quietly, “I don’t see how we’re going to stop them forever.”

  “We’ll think of something,” Amira assured him, glad that she sounded more confident than she felt.

  After an hour’s respite, Edon’s mages came again. This time they were organized into two large groups, a few hundred yards apart, facing south toward the city. Amira sent word for her own mages to match them in similar, if smaller, clusters.

  The beads came again, and again her mages held them off, but it seemed as if the beads of Edon’s mages were getting closer to the wall before being dispelled. She could clearly see the faces of the men and women down outside the walls. More men than women, it seemed, by a margin of perhaps three to one, but all of them grim with concentration. The women could do little to breach the walls, but if they could hit any of Amira’s mages, and reduce their numbers, then the men’s beads would burrow into the walls and bring them down that much sooner.

  And when Amira heard the first scream, her heart fell. She was with the group nearer the northwest corner of the city, and the scream had come from the east, from where Razh led the other of the students in their defense. But she could not run to see what had happened, or this group too might lose someone. She hoped Razh was keeping the rest of them calm—

  A thunderclap struck ten yards from the wall, shaking the air and making Amira stagger. One of Edon’s mages, a man, had gotten his bead terrifyingly close. She had been just about to dispel it, but he’d triggered it early. She was still perceiving this when another thunderclap struck, off to her left, then another to her right.

  And then the wall lurched beneath her feet, and stone rained from the sky.

  CHAPTER 37

  DARDAN