Affinity for War

by Frank Morin

  The library door opened and Kilian entered, looking grim. "The outer windrider scout perimeter just confirmed that Dougal's army is on the march. We're expecting the main attack at dawn in two days."

  Verena grimaced. "I hate that so many Obrioners are marching into Granadure."

  "Rory made good time," Aifric said.

  Kilian shook his head. "Dougal started the march before Rory returned."

  Jean asked, "So he didn't bother to hear Wolfram's response?"

  "He might not care," Kilian admitted. "He can't expect we'd surrender, and he's not about to withdraw just because we tell Rory we demand it. It's interesting that he even tried."

  "What did he gain by it?" Verena asked with a frown. "Other than taunting Wolfram, and sending that ridiculous offer to Connor?"

  Connor hated that the offer still tempted him. Even if Dougal actually planned to honor his word and not kill Connor and the others once they were safely away from the main fighting, Verena would never abandon her homeland. That meant he couldn't either.

  Kilian shrugged. "It's a moot point. The army is coming. We'll integrate into Wolfram's battle plan as we discussed."

  Jean asked, "What if you see other officers, or even Shona, when you're hovering and waiting for a chance to strike at those stones? Should you attack and try to kill them?"

  "I'd prefer we capture, if possible," Verena said to Connor's relief. "Killing would be effective, but we could use more intelligence."

  Kilian said, "I agree, but don't take unnecessary risks. If Dougal does not unleash another elfonnel, Wolfram should be able to drive them back. That will be the main focus of this engagement."

  "I still think he's probably hoping to draw you or Connor out," Verena said.

  "I can help from a distance, while yet concealed," Kilian said. "He may well be trying to draw you out, Connor. Another reason to not take unnecessary risks, although I doubt he could secure a hold on your mind unless you tap obsidian."

  Aifric said, "No obsidian for you. In fact, just give me whatever you've got. Seventeen needs more."

  "How could you need more? That portion I gave you was a two-week supply," Connor said.

  "You might have asked for two weeks, but I barely got enough for a single sparring practice."

  He could have sworn the pouch had held more, but shrugged. "Sorry. I should have checked it more carefully. I'll get you some more, but what if Dougal has another way? Maybe I should get some of that burned porphyry powder you told me about."

  He tried to keep his tone casual, but his voice shook as he thought about porphyry. Verena had suggested the burned powder was less potent, but he felt a sudden overpowering urge to try it out anyway. If the battle went poorly, he might need it.

  Kilian regarded Connor closely and shook his head. "That powder is not pure, which adds another layer of risk to an already dangerous situation. I don't think it wise for you to tempt porphyry again."

  Gisela, who had sat quietly listening shuddered, "I am thinking porphyry is a bad idea too, Connor. The monster doesn't sleep easily after it is being released."

  "I can control it," Connor assured her.

  He knew when to let the beast out, as Martys liked to say, but he could rein it in when he needed to. Kilian's refusal infuriated him, and he was startled by a sudden urge to leap out of his chair and beat Kilian until he relented.

  Rattled by the intensity of the violent impulse, Connor forced it down and took a deep, steadying breath. He focused on Verena's face, and that helped him relax.

  "Then we need another way to block him," Connor said as calmly as he could. He glanced at Aifric, and a memory sparked an idea. "That night you tried to kill me, you hit me with something that blocked my primary affinities. What was that?"

  "Wait, you tried to kill Connor?" Verena exclaimed.

  Connor shrugged. "Half the people I know have promised to kill me. Even you and Hamish were probably planning to kill me if I lost control."

  "How did you know that?" Verena asked, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

  "It makes sense. Nothing personal, right?" He squeezed her hand. "Friends do what it takes to keep each other safe. Sometimes for us that gets a bit weird, but it's the intention that counts. Aifric, you told me I wouldn't be able to establish primary affinities for a while. That would work against Dougal too, wouldn't it?"

  When she hesitated he said, "Come on, Aifric. You're one of us now. We guard each other's secrets. We'll keep yours too. This is important."

  She sighed. "Loyalties sure get twisted around you, Connor."

  "Helps you know what's really important," he said with a grin.

  She smiled. "I suppose. The powdered stone I hit you with would affect Dougal too, but it's not quite as simple as it sounds. He attacked your mind from a distance, but that powder has to be inhaled to take effect. And it tends to impact obsidian less than granite and basalt."

  "It's worth a shot at least. Do you have any?" Connor asked.

  "Seventeen has a very little. Perhaps enough to disable one person." She spread her hands in apology. "It's a very closely guarded secret of her people."

  "Don't you mean your people?" Hamish asked.

  "Haven't you listened to anything we've told you? Seventeen is Mhortair. Aifric is Obrioner. Those crazy Assassins aren't my people."

  "Does your head leak sometimes?" Hamish asked softly, staring at her with a bewildered look on his face.

  "Hold on," Jean said, her brows furrowed in thought, even as she idly combed at her wild hair with her fingers. "You have a powdered stone that reacts negatively to primary affinities. We already know about another powdered stone that counters granite. Kilian, is there a stone that counters basalt?"

  "Actually, there is. You're a quick study, Jean. We just discovered the existence of the anti-basalt stone this year. It's a metamorphic stone known as amphibolite gneiss, but we've only ever found one tiny deposit, barely enough to test."

  "And what is the secret weakening powder?" Jean asked.

  Kilian shrugged. "Obrion has acquired it, so it's not such a secret any more. It is also a metamorphic stone, known as granite gneiss."

  Jean paced away, head bowed in thought.

  "You're seeing something we've missed again, aren't you?" Connor was glad that Jean was on their side.

  She turned to face them. "Metamorphic stones are formed out of other stones."

  Kilian nodded. "That's right. Through heat and pressure."

  "Is it safe to suppose granite gneiss was formed out of granite?"

  "Power-grade granite?" Connor added, catching on.

  "I'll have to check with the stone masters. I'm not sure we've ever asked that question, but it may be a safe assumption."

  Jean said, "Have them check on amphibolite gneiss too. See if they can determine if it was formed originally from basalt."

  "So if a power-grade igneous stone is transformed into a metamorphic stone. . ." Connor said, working through the logic.

  "Then it stands to reason there might be a metamorphic stone somewhere formed from power-grade obsidian," Jean finished for him, her blue eyes bright.

  "And it might nullify obsidian," Hamish said.

  Kilian laughed. "Hamish, kiss that girl of yours." While Hamish eagerly obeyed, he added, "I'll send a message out to our obsidian quarries to begin a search of nearby areas for metamorphic stones. It's a long shot, but we might get lucky. Especially at the Emmerich quarry. They've had some unusual, localized earthquake activity recently. It's possible new veins of stone have been unearthed."

  "Alasdair's had earthquakes too," Connor said.

  "Do you think quarrying power stone sometimes has a negative impact?" Jean asked, looking worried.

  "I've never thought it might, but now I wonder." Connor hated having something else to worry about.

  "We can study that when we have more leisure," Kilian said. "We are soon heading into battle. We cannot allow Harz to fall, but we must coordinate efforts carefully. Do
not face Dougal alone."

  "But get those sculpted stones if we can," Hamish interrupted.

  Kilian cautioned, "If the moment is right. Wolfram's challenge will be to drive them back, but not savage them so badly that Dougal feels forced to use another sculpted stone."

  "I still can't see him accepting defeat without taking that option," Jean said with a worried frown.

  Gisela said, "I am fearing the same thing. All intelligence I am seeing suggests this."

  Kilian said, "If he does, I will deal with it. That will be your time to strike. You must locate Dougal while he's distracted." He glanced at Aifric. "Are you up for another attempt?"

  "I don't think so."

  Surprised, Connor looked closer at her and noticed for the first time that she looked pale. "Are you sick, Aifric?"

  "I didn't want to say anything, but I've had a lingering weakness from when Gregor struck me down outside of the Carraig. I don't think I can go into battle again yet."

  "Why didn't you say anything?" Jean moved to Aifric's side to place a hand on her forehead. "We could have found you a Healer."

  "I am a Healer, remember? This isn't a wound that just heals, but an exhaustion that will recover with time."

  "I've never heard of anything like that," Jean said.

  "It might have to do with how he beat you," Hamish suggested.

  "Perhaps."

  "I'll arrange for you to sleep on one of the healthbeds. It might help," Verena offered.

  Connor hoped so. He was glad Aifric shared her problem with them. That kind of hesitation was so unlike her, it worried him.

  Aifric gave them all a warm smile. "Thank you. I really just need rest. I can still help with the injured, and watch for any Obrioner assassins."

  "There is much for all of us to do," Kilian agreed.

  "Not for Jean," Hamish said.

  "What are you talking about?" she asked.

  "I want you to go back to the Builder compound." Hamish took her hands, his expression earnest.

  "I can help," she insisted, her expression hurt.

  He said quickly. "I know. It's just, I don't think I can focus on what I have to do if I'm worrying about your safety."

  "I won't be in the fighting. Why would you worry?"

  Hamish hesitated, glanced at the rest of them, and flushed. He said softly, "Ever since I couldn't save Ingrid. . ." His voice trailed off into a gruff cough.

  Jean cupped his face with her hands, her expression tender. "I know it's been hard for you, Hamish, but I'll be fine."

  "Maybe Hamish is right," Verena said.

  Jean looked hurt, and Verena added, "I'm not questioning your skills or your bravery. Just the opposite. I need someone who understands our work who can meet with the craft masters of Faulenrost to discuss developing advanced mechanicals. I think you're the best person to chair those meetings."

  As Jean considered that, Hamish added, "We can send Dierk back to pick up another supply of mechanicals, and the newest Last Word bomb. It should be finished by now. He can give you a ride, and you can come back with him in a few days."

  "I don't like leaving you." Jean gave Hamish another of those lovesick looks, and Connor was glad he and Verena didn't act all mushy like that.

  "I think it's a good idea," Connor said before Hamish could waver. "I think you can accomplish most with your research."

  Jean looked from him, to Hamish, to Verena, and frowned. "I still don't like it, but I can see I don't have any choice." Then she brightened, "I assume I have authority to start making plans with them?"

  "Within reason," Kilian cautioned.

  She gave him a dazzling smile. "Trust me."

  "I will going with you," Gisela announced. "I have wanting to see the Builder home for some time. I can doing very little during the battle, but can helping Jean think of better mechanicals."

  "Thanks, I'd love your company."

  Kilian said, "I'll send a pigeon to Altkalen to get an update on their readiness. If things go badly, we might need them sooner."

  "A pigeon?" Hamish asked, looking disgusted. "Doesn't that seem a bit old-fashioned now that we've got listening posts, speakstones, and flying machines?"

  "Except that we have no listening post here at Harz, I have no windriders to spare, and speakstones don't communicate over such distances," Kilian said.

  "We need to work on that. There has to be a Builded solution," Hamish said.

  "Craft-made," Jean suggested.

  He grimaced.

  "Or Inventor-built?" Connor suggested.

  Hamish's grimace deepened. "We're getting worse, not better."

  "We'll find the right word," Verena promised. "But right now, we need to get back to the lab."

  "I need more diorite darts," Hamish agreed.

  "And we can begin calibrating the thrusters of your suit before I leave. Verena, I'd like to take that keystone with me back to the Builder compound."

  "You can't fly without us," Verena cautioned.

  "Really bad idea," Hamish agreed.

  "I won't fly, but I'm sure I can learn more from it, or at least feel how it reacts when placed against the other stones on the Windrider." When the two Builders hesitated, Jean added, "I won't even climb aboard. I'll just circle the outside to do some testing. It'll give me a chance to establish a base level of responsiveness."

  "Just be careful," Hamish urged her, taking her hands in his. "I can't bear the thought of anything happening to you."

  She gave him a tender kiss. "Stay safe, Hamish. I'll be fine." Then she added with a grin, "In fact, I'll have all that extra food to eat for you."

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  “The mightiest ship is turned by a tiny tiller, but a single leak can invite the floodwaters to enter.”

  ~Ilse

  With the Obrioner army advancing, tension grew and preparations intensified. Connor spent half the next day on the banks of the lake with Marshal Gunter and the commanders of the tertiary-affinity companies.

  They started with mud. As they gained proficiency working together with the mud, their enthusiasm increased. Soon they began practicing with combining air and fire, forming towering fire whirls. Connor shuddered to think about the damage such flaming tornadoes could inflict.

  By the time he left them, they were eagerly discussing other potential combined attacks. He almost felt sorry for Carbrey's soldiers.

  As he passed through the long fields west of town, he marveled at the number of auxiliary troops. Companies of swordsmen, spearmen, slingers, and even archers were crammed into the huge field, each hundred-man company led by a captain and ten sergeants.

  Connor counted eighty companies, plus another dozen of heavy cavalry to the north. Even more soldiers camped closer to the fortress or around the far side of the town. He estimated that Wolfram commanded close to twenty thousand auxiliary troops, plus the Petralists, which numbered nearly two thousand. The thought awed him. It seemed impossible that the Obrioner army was nearly twice as big.

  He had felt challenged managing about a hundred Petralist students in the mock battles of the Carraig. He'd commanded almost five hundred against the elfonnel, but Wolfram needed to organize and effectively utilize closer to fifty times that number. Connor didn't envy him.

  He found Jean in the Builder laboratory with Verena and Hamish. The large, converted barn was literally buzzing with intense activity. Connor wasn't sure what was making that sound, and he hoped whatever it was worked properly. They didn't have time for new mechanicals to fail.

  The Builders, led by Verena's quick mind and Hamish's boundless energy, had completed another dozen speedslings and several thousand hornets, including a few hundred with embedded diorite. Those were handled with immense care as they were loaded into the weapons, which were then sent out to the companies that would wield them against the Obrioners.

  Verena only had a small supply of blind coal, but she produced three dozen gauntlets. They would each only work a couple times, but the aggressive
slipperiness of blind coal would virtually guarantee the soldiers wearing them could avoid nearly any attack. They were delivered to captains and commanders who would be engaged in the direct fighting, and might prove a critical advantage.

  Jean waved to Connor and pulled Hamish from under a windrider he was helping to repair. "I have to go, unless you prefer I stay until you're done."

  "No, I'm coming," Hamish told her quickly.

  Connor pulled Verena from behind a stack of recently-activated healthbeds, awaiting shipment to the auxiliary hospital on the north end of town. She looked tired, but enthusiastic.

  "I'm glad you stopped by," she grinned and hugged him.

  He savored the feel of her. She smelled of stone dust, wood polish, and quartzite air, and he enjoyed the soft, warm caress of her breath against his neck.

  "Do you think you'll have everything ready?" he asked.

  She gave a slightly exasperated sigh and ran fingers through her sandy brown hair. "The biggest challenge is lack of power stone. We've got a stockpile back at the Builder compound, but it's too far to fetch in time. This forward laboratory is new, and our supplies are severely limited."

  "It doesn't look limited to me."

  "Well, we're nearly finished with everything we have available. Wolfram refused to allocate more. He needs the rest to fuel the Petralists."

  "It takes more stone than most people realize," Connor said, thinking back to the daily rounds he used to deliver at the Carraig for Ailsa. Wolfram probably needed an entire vault's worth for a single battle.

  Verena sighed. "I know. Quarries are beyond maximum production limits, but stone stockpiles are not nearly high enough. Managing supply chains will be a major challenge if the war drags on."

  "Hopefully it won't."

  "If it does, we need to find ways to use our stones more efficiently. Jean's work might become critical to the war."

  "Then we probably should go see her off."

  Together they left the lab and returned to the windrider courtyard behind the main keep. Dierk was already strapped into place on the high pilot bench of one of the windriders. Jean was donning her flying leathers.

  "Time to go," Dierk said, sounding a bit impatient.