She only hoped she wasn’t asking too much. Two such loves in a lifetime was far more than the Mother granted most people. Wanting a third seemed greedy.
She tried to make her expression both kind and firm. “I can’t give you even that much, Zagan. You and I can never be anything but friends and colleagues. If you can accept that, we’ll forget this conversation ever happened. If you can’t, I’ll be happy to release you from your contract.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.” He patted her arm. “Of course I can accept it. I won’t speak of it again. But I’m not going anywhere. If you ever change your mind, all you have to do is say so.” He swept past her before she could react, back to continue serving the stew.
She hoped that was the end of it. She hoped he’d keep his promise not to bring up the subject again. Because despite her resolve, she wasn’t sure how long she could keep resisting if he kept up a subtle campaign for her affections. Zagan was a good man, a good cook, a good father, a good friend. It wasn’t his fault he left her cold. Eventually she might give in just to have another person in her life, instead of an empty space where the people she loved used to be.
She took another bite of the delicious stew and went to join the others around the fire. She enjoyed these evenings, when they talked and relaxed in each other’s company before retiring to the cluster of cozy little cabins Harova had built.
She’d almost finished her bowl when a voice rang out of the darkness. “Thank the Mother, we finally found you!”
She froze, her stomach clenching, as figures from her past stepped into the firelight. Josiah, taller and even lankier than she remembered. And Sar, who could have been mistaken for one of their train of donkeys except for the intelligent way he looked at her. With a mix of dread and breathless hope she looked for the third member of the trio she’d traveled through these mountains with two summers ago.
But the boy with them was a stranger. Meira frowned at him. She searched the shadows for anyone else, but no one was there.
Josiah came up to her, grinning widely. “That stew smells wonderful. Is there enough left for us? I could eat five bowls.” He threw his arms around her in a hug, which she accepted bemusedly. “It’s great to see you again, Meira.”
“It’s good to see you again, too, Josiah.” She wouldn’t ask. She wouldn’t.
Sar was here. Elkan would never let himself be separated from his familiar for long. Unless something had happened to him…
“Do you know how long we’ve been looking for you?” Josiah waved at his companions. “You remember Sar, of course. And this is Dari Farmerkin Farmer, who joined us in Jevtaran. Although he might’ve had second thoughts if he’d known we’d be searching half the mountains to find you. We thought it would be a simple matter of showing up in Shalinthan and knocking on your door.”
“We’d almost given up,” Dari commented. He was a nice-looking young man, a little older than Josiah. “Until we felt that shock this afternoon.”
“That was Master Noadiah’s blasting powder, wasn’t it?” Josiah asked her urgently. “You’re using it to cut your new mine? You said you wouldn’t, but when they told me you’d accepted the contract, I hoped…”
“Yes,” Meira told him, wondering at the relief that flooded his face. “I started working with it not long after you left. It didn’t seem right to let the knowledge Master Noahdiah spent so much time and effort discovering go to waste. Tomorrow I can show you what we’ve done with it.”
“Please,” Josiah said with every evidence of sincerity. “This is wonderful. I thought we’d have to start practically from scratch, with only what Master Noadiah wrote down. Elkan is going to be so—” He broke off, blinking at Meira. She hadn’t been able to keep her reaction off her face.
“Is he with you?” she asked, striving to allow only casual interest into her voice.
“No, he’s in Korisan, organizing—” Josiah shook his head. “I guess you don’t have any idea what’s been happening. A messenger hasn’t come in the last few days?”
“No.” Meira ignored the stab of disappointment in her gut and focused instead on her growing awareness that something was seriously wrong. “I think you’d better tell us what’s going on. Starting with why Sar’s here when Elkan isn’t.”
“Oh, you don’t know about that? Sar’s my familiar now. Elkan’s bonded to Tobi. That happened a long time ago, Springtide before last.” He dismissed her confusion with a wave. “I’ll tell you about it later, but it doesn’t have anything to do with why we’re here. Elkan sent me to find you and get Master Noadiah’s notes on the blasting powder. We need it to fight the invaders from Ramunna who’ve taken over Elathir.”
“What?” Other voices joined Meira’s startled exclamation.
Josiah rubbed his forehead. “You know about the ship from Ramunna that showed up in Elathir last fall, right? In Shalinthan they said you’d only left a few months ago.”
“Only what the messengers told us. It seemed incredible.”
“Yeah, well, Elkan and I ended up going back to Ramunna with them. It didn’t go well, and now the Matriarch’s mad at us and wants to destroy the Wizards’ Guild and conquer Tevenar.” Josiah looked wistfully toward the pot of stew. “Maybe we could sit down and get something to eat? I promise I’ll fill in all the details, but we’ve been traveling for days and we’re tired and hungry.”
“Of course.” Meira gestured for Zagan to get bowls for Josiah and Dari. People scooted down the logs to make room. Tura, the herder in charge of the donkeys, brought hay for Sar.
When they were settled, Meira sat down next to Josiah. “All right. From the beginning, please. Why do you want the blasting powder?”
The powder was hers, smash it. She’d toiled long and hard to master the secrets Noadiah had left and to develop more of her own. She wasn’t going to give them away, even to Elkan. How dare he presume on a relationship they’d never had to demand she surrender privileged craft information? There were rules about what the Wizards’ Guild could require of other guilds. Even if they were dealing with a crisis that threatened all of Tevenar.
Josiah took a big bite, chewed, and swallowed. “The beginning? I guess that was when we arrived in Ramunna.” Between spoonfuls of stew he poured out the story.
Meira listened with growing wonder and fear. She’d never imagined such a big, dangerous world existed outside Tevenar. Her first instinct was to deny everything. She desperately wanted to go back a few hours, to the time when the worst things she’d had to worry about were pushy subordinates, careless children, and unwelcome advances. Next to invasion and war and the future of Tevenar, those things seemed ridiculously easy.
She couldn’t, though. Josiah wouldn’t lie to her. And what he was telling her about Elkan’s actions was exactly what she would have expected. She ate up every detail. Of course Elkan had been shocked and horrified by the immense need for the Mother’s power in Ramunna. Of course he’d taken it on himself to reverse a millennium of neglect single-handedly. And of course he’d gone a long way toward achieving that goal. She felt a flash of sympathy for the Matriarch. She knew how impossible it was to persuade Elkan to do anything he’d decided was against the Mother’s will. No wonder he’d ended up at odds with her.
Her interest became more analytical as Josiah described the Armada’s weapons. He must be correct that the Ramunnans’ Secret was the same as her blasting powder, or close enough to make little difference. If it could hurl rocks hundreds of feet, why not iron balls? She imagined a charge confined within one of the long metal tubes he described. The force of the blast would be channeled in a single direction. Similar to the way flaws in the rock channeled it, only the effect would be more extreme. Little wonder the weapon surpassed the thousand-foot range of the wizards’ power.
“Can we make our own?” Josiah demanded. “Elkan and I both think it’s our only chance to drive them out.”
“I don’t see why not.” Meira held up a hand at his excited response. “Ho
ld on. That doesn’t mean it will be easy. First, I may be Smithkin, but I’m no smith. Those tubes are going to have to be awfully strong to contain the explosion. Obviously it’s possible, since you saw them in action. I expect our smiths can do it, but it might take a lot of trial and error to get it right. I know who I’d approach with the challenge in Shalinthan, but if these weapons are needed in Korisan, and Elathir eventually, that would be going in the wrong direction.”
“There’s bound to be plenty of good smiths in Korisan,” Josiah said, his eyes glowing. “I know—”
“That’s not all,” Meira interrupted. “You’re going to need a lot of blasting powder. Making it takes a great deal of labor and time. The components have to be assembled. There’s a good deposit of sulfur not far from here. Charcoal we can have made for us in Korisan. The saltpeter is going to be the challenging part. We’ll need a cave with plenty of bat droppings, and people to process them into the form I need. I got what I used from a cave north of Shalinthan. Hopefully we can find one in a better location, close to Tathorlith if possible. Then we could ship it straight down the Deorga to Korisan.”
“That sounds like a great idea. People will be eager to do whatever’s needed to help defeat the Ramunnans.”
“I hope you’re right. But even if you are…” Meira shook her head. “Everything has to be ground to a fine powder and combined in precise proportions. The mixing is dangerous, because even a small spark can set the powder off. I figured out a way to minimize the risk by wetting the powder—the clumping it causes actually makes it work better—but even so, it’s a slow process. I worked for months to make the ten pounds of powder I brought with me, and I’ve used most of it.”
“How much do you think we’ll need?” Josiah studied her worriedly.
“How big did you say the bundles were?” Josiah showed her with his hands. Meira mimicked his gesture, cradling an imaginary sack of powder. “About a pound for each shot. How many times did each weapon fire during the battle?”
Josiah gulped. “Dozens, maybe hundreds. And there was a weapon on each ship. I don’t know how many Elkan thinks we’ll need…”
“Say ten of them. At a hundred pounds of powder each, that’s a thousand pounds. For each day of battle. And I doubt the Ramunnans will give up after a single assault.”
“No.” Josiah frowned. “They probably won’t think about retreating until they use up most of the powder they brought with them. And each ship had hundreds of barrels full.”
“So we might easily need several thousand pounds of powder.” Meira’s heart sank when she considered the numbers. “There’s no way. Even if everyone in Tevenar worked on nothing but grinding for weeks, it still wouldn’t be enough.”
Josiah’s shoulders drooped. “That’s a problem,” he admitted reluctantly.
Meira sighed. For a few minutes she’d been caught up in his enthusiasm, but what he wanted was too big a project to be practical. “I’m sorry to disappoint you and Elkan, but I guess I can’t—”
“Grinding.” Josiah narrowed his eyes. Meira recognized the look that meant he was thinking furiously. “Why not use a mill?”
The thought had crossed her mind more than once during the long hours with mortar and pestle. “The components are much harder than wheat. I doubt millstones designed to grind flour would hold up for long. And no miller would let his equipment be contaminated that way. Sulfur has a nasty smell; no one wants that in their bread.”
Josiah waved those considerations aside. “Of course you couldn’t use an existing grist mill. You’d have to build one specifically for the purpose.” His face grew animated, and his hands illustrated his fast-flowing words with rapid gestures, outlining and measuring and shaping things Meira couldn’t see. “You’d need harder stones of course, maybe a series of them, even, and a big vat for mixing. I bet you could make a device to measure the right amounts of each of the ingredients, plus the right amount of water, and something like paddles to stir them together. You could probably run it all from a single water wheel, if you worked the gearing right…” He closed his eyes and fell silent, but his hands kept moving, his face twitching and twisting.
Hope rekindled in Meira’s heart. Maybe they could make this work. She could give Elkan what he desperately wanted.
Josiah’s eyes snapped open. “I can do it,” he declared. “I’ll need you to show me exactly how each step of the process works. I can sketch out the designs while we travel.”
Meira’s face flushed hot. She looked around at the nervous, fascinated faces of her people. “I haven’t agreed to help you yet.”
Josiah gaped at her. “What?”
She gestured around the fire. “Everyone here signed up to develop a new gold mine, not to build weapons. They agreed to forgo their usual wages in exchange for a share of the anticipated profits. I can’t cheat them of the rewards they’re due because I suddenly decide to pursue a different project.”
“There won’t be any profits if the Ramunnans take over,” Josiah pointed out quickly. “They’ll claim the gold for themselves.”
“Maybe. Or maybe they’d buy it from us at a good price. We don’t know.” Several of the journeymen nodded in agreement.
“You can’t just refuse—”
“Yes, I can. This is my expedition you’re asking me to abandon. My guild secrets you’re asking me to surrender. I want assurance that the Wizards’ Guild will make it worth my while. And worth it for the people who trusted me to lead them.”
Josiah spread his hands. “If it’s money you want, I’m sure Elkan—”
“Not money.” She’d beg in the streets before she’d accept a coin from his hands. “I want recognition as guildmaster of a new guild. I want the right to appoint masters and journeymen and apprentices in my craft. I want to bypass the normal process of breaking off from an existing guild. The Miners’ Guild will never voluntarily let the blasting powder go, not once they see what I’ve accomplished with it. I want the Wizards’ Guild to intervene on my behalf and force them to release it to me. They had their chance, and they rejected it.” She gestured curtly. “From now on they can buy the use of it from the—” She hesitated. “Powder Guild? That doesn’t sound right.”
Josiah raised his eyebrows. “Exploders’ Guild? Weaponmakers’ Guild? Blasters’ Guild?” His face reddened at the near-profanity. “Maybe not.”
The off-color nature of the name amused her. “I don’t know. I rather like it.” The ambition Meira had never dared contemplate before crystallized in her heart. “This is a new craft, unlike any other in Tevenar. It should have its own guild.” She looked around at her people. “I’ll offer any of you who want it founder’s status.” She nodded to Harova and Tura. “If you’d prefer to remain with your own guilds, I’ll buy you out of your contracts.”
Harova glanced at Tura, then back to Meira. “We can discuss that once the Ramunnans are defeated. I’m not going to quibble about payment when the future of Tevenar is at stake.”
Jaron took Sachiel’s hand. “We’ll join your new guild, Master Meira.” Sachiel nodded in agreement. “We’ll show those Ramunnans they aren’t the only ones who can build a weapon.”
Zagan said, “I don’t suppose your guild will have much need for a cook’s skills, but I’ll be glad to feed Tevenar’s army.”
One by one, the others either affirmed their desire to be a part of the new guild, or gave their support for Meira’s intent to abandon the mine and join the war effort. Meira’s heart glowed with pride and appreciation. She’d chosen her people well.
When they finished, she turned back to Josiah. “Well?”
He spread his hands. “I can’t promise anything,” he cautioned. “But I think Elkan will consider it a fair exchange for your help.”
“That’s good enough for now.” For a moment Meira was overwhelmed by the magnitude of what she’d agreed to do, but she shook off the feeling. One step at a time. “Tura, tomorrow we’ll take the donkeys and go to the sulfur deposit. I
f we all work together we can have them fully loaded by sunset. We’ll go to Tathorlith and put the sulfur on a boat to Korisan, along with word of our plans so the smiths there can get to work. Then you can come back with more workers for another load while we locate a source of bat droppings and hire a crew to process it. Once that’s underway, we’ll head to Korisan so Josiah can have his mill ready by the time the saltpeter arrives.”
Korisan. Elkan was there. She’d just committed herself to dealing with him at length.
It was going to be horribly awkward. She’d have to work at least as hard to keep her feelings in check as she would preparing the blasting powder. She could never let him see that she still longed for his touch, still ached for the love they might have shared if only things had been different. Because even if everything went far better than they had any right to hope and they defeated the Ramunnans, when Tevenar was again at peace he’d still be a wizard, and she’d still be—
Not a miner, not if he agreed to her terms. Guildmaster of the Blasters’ Guild. Guildmasters lived in Elathir, supervising their guilds from afar while they represented their interests on the Council of Guildmasters.
She put that thought firmly aside. It had never been primarily geography that separated them. As long as he believed his commitment to the Mother precluded any other bonds, there was no chance of him agreeing to the sort of relationship Meira wanted, even if they lived side by side.
Better not to subject herself to that sort of torture. Once the war was over she’d put as much distance between them as possible, even if it was only the breadth of Elathir.
Ten
Kevessa hunched inside the dark crate, trying to ignore how the swaying vibration of the wagon kept banging her back against the edge of the brazier and her thighs against the handle of the big copper pot tucked beneath her knees. Why had she agreed to this? It was horribly reminiscent of the time the Purifiers had kidnapped her. Except that time she’d been less uncomfortable, because she’d had a whole trunk to herself. This time she was sharing space with Nalini’s equipment. She’d been right to be skeptical when Nalini had assured them there would be room for a person to hide in the crate if she removed some of the padding she usually used to protect her things. There really wasn’t, but Nalini had cheerfully stuffed her inside anyway.
The Wizards' War Page 13
