The Wizards' War

by Angela Holder

  The man he indicated rose, taking off his plumed hat and turning it in his hands. “I truly think Guildmaster Hanion was deceived. He’s been helpful in so many matters. Why would he lie to us about where the rest of the wizards went? If they disagreed with his intention to surrender, it would make sense for them to conceal their true destination.”

  Commodore Benarre made a dismissive gesture and the man sat down. “You may well be right, but it has no bearing on what we have to decide. Hanion is far too useful to discard, but it’s clear that for whatever reason we can no longer rely on what he says.”

  Another man signaled his desire to speak and Benarre recognized him. He rose. “Are we absolutely certain Hanion can’t use the Mother’s power without his creature?”

  Josiah swallowed as he laid his last stick down. He made his way as slowly as possible toward the door.

  Another man laughed coarsely. “He’d hardly have stayed our prisoner if he could shine a light on his door and unlock it!”

  Most of the others laughed in agreement, although not the man who’d raised the question. A few others looked thoughtful or wary. The wariest rose. “Then explain how even our most carefully guarded secrets keep getting out. Just yesterday—”

  Josiah lingered by the door as long as he dared, but a head started to turn toward him so he was forced to duck through. This time the man in the kitchen was looking at him, so he couldn’t race across the room for more sticks the way he wanted to.

  “What’s taking you so long, boy?” the kitchen man demanded. “Get a move on.”

  That was all the permission Josiah needed to hurry out to Sar. They’re debating whether or not to send out the force Savir warned Master Elkan about, he reported as he gathered another armful. Only one more after this and Sar’s load would be gone. We have to find out what they decide. If I can’t listen long enough, would you be willing to open a window? Assuming we can find a safe place to hide?

  Sar paused for a moment. Josiah was on his way back in before he answered. That would be permissible.

  Josiah breathed easier. He moved slightly more quickly across the Hall, no longer so desperate to hear every word.

  Benarre was leaning over the table, indicating positions on a large map. “—three hundred men across the bridge and to the northwest along this large road. Hanion insists there’s nothing that way except farms and forests, but our scouts keep reporting suspicious activity. The few who’ve made it back. So far none of the scouts I’ve sent on long-range missions have returned. There’s something out there, gentlemen.”

  Benarre touched a spot on the map very close to Korisan. “I strongly suspect that’s where the missing wizards have made their base. I expect they’re gathering people from the surrounding countryside. If so, we need to march on them as soon as possible.”

  “Even if you’re right, we can’t spare three hundred men right now. We’d never keep it a secret that our forces were down that much. As well-informed and well-organized as these agitators seem to be, they’re sure to launch a major uprising while we’re at our weakest.”

  Another captain said, “Bring some of the ships in close and aim the Secret at the market and a few residential areas. They won’t dare risk upsetting us, then. If they try, they’ll soon lose heart when their shops and homes are destroyed.”

  There was a lot of enthusiastic support for this suggestion, but Benarre shook his head. “And risk another debacle like what happened at the dock? All it would take would be one suicidal fanatic with a rowboat and a torch, and we’d lose another ship. We’ve already lost far more than a simple action against practically unarmed peasants should have cost us.”

  “Then bring a few weapons ashore. The Secrets officers can come up with some sort of secure base for them. Spread things out so if they set fire to one, the rest aren’t lost.” The speaker gestured upward. “One or two on the top floor of this building could target anywhere in the city.”

  Both eager agreement and adamant opposition met his words. Josiah left to get the last armload of wood, their argument ringing behind him.

  Commodore Benarre was speaking again when he got back. “I agree the strategy would be effective, but I expect the Secrets officers will tell me it’s out of the question. We’ll have to prepare to deal with any uprising with our normal forces. Are we so afraid of a handful of untrained agitators and a bunch of simple city folk that we doubt we’ll be able to quell whatever pitiful attack they throw at us?”

  The scorn in his voice was so thick no one ventured to answer. He nodded sharply. “It’s settled. They’ll leave first thing tomorrow.” He rolled up the map with brisk movements and handed it to Mirlen. “Now, we need to consider the matter of—”

  Josiah let the door swing shut behind him and raised a hand in farewell to the kitchen man as he went to rejoin Sar. They’re sending three hundred soldiers toward Korisan while not doing anything to tighten their hold on Elathir except being a little more alert. We need to find Savir and Music. I bet anything they’re the ones organizing the resistance. They’re probably getting information from Hanion and passing it on.

  That seems likely.

  If we let them know about this opportunity, they can pull off something really big while the Ramunnans are vulnerable. But where do we look for them? Do you think if we ask around people will tell us? It’s pretty obvious we’re not Ramunnan spies. And we can always show them the Mother’s power to prove they can trust us.

  I suggest we start in the market. You have a little money to spend. That will give you an excuse to talk to people.

  Not much. Josiah pulled the coins from his pocket and regarded them ruefully. This might buy half a loaf of bread and one piece of fried fish. A small one. But it’s better than having to forage. He’d been able to raid a little food from the kitchen of the Mother’s Hall in Korisan, but he’d eaten the last of it that morning.

  The market wasn’t as busy as usual, but enough shops were open and wares on display to make a convincing show of normality. Josiah found an open bakery and spent one of the coins on a loaf of day-old bread. He passed up the fried fish booth in favor of a good-sized fish fresh off a boat. He could take it back to camp and bake it in the coals of their fire.

  He had less luck getting people to talk. The baker disavowed any knowledge of a wizard named Savir. The fisher frowned at him suspiciously and shook his head. Others he questioned looked at him blankly, or scolded him for nosiness, or grimaced and pointed at the Ramunnans who seemed to be everywhere.

  Finally a woman at a vegetable stand glanced warily around and beckoned him closer. “I can get a message to Savir, if it’s urgent.”

  Josiah dropped his voice. “Tell him Josiah and Sar want to talk to him.” He put one hand on Sar and held the other out. Sar stirred the air over his palm so a faint golden glow shone for an instant.

  She stared at it, then looked from him to the donkey, her eyes going wide with comprehension. “Oh. You’re—”

  “Yeah.”

  “In that case, wait until dusk. When I close my shop and leave, follow me.”

  Josiah assured her he would. He spent the next few hours walking down to the beach and searching for a spot where a window would reach the anchored ships, without luck.

  He was trudging back toward the market when inspiration struck. Smash it, Sar, I’m an idiot. The ships were at the docks only a month ago. We can look at the weapons then.

  Josiah found a place to hide in an abandoned shed at the shipyard. He had Sar open a window to the day after the battle. Dozens of Armada ships were moored at the three long docks.

  Perfect. The window over his hand zoomed to focus inside the locked room in the bow of the nearest ship. The long iron tube rested in its wooden cradle, just as he remembered from the battle. At the moment Sar had chosen none of the Secrets officers were present, so Josiah could have him move the window’s viewpoint wherever he wanted without anything blocking his view.

  He took his time studying every de
tail of the weapon. They really had made an excellent copy. As far as he could tell they’d gotten all the dimensions very close to the original. If anything, their tube was a few inches longer. The iron balls piled next to the weapon were just the size they’d settled on. The muzzle had a slight bevel on the inner edge he hadn’t noticed before, but he didn’t see how that could affect its range. The breech wasn’t quite as thick as the Smiths’ Guild had insisted on making theirs, but again, Josiah didn’t think that could be the problem. They’d gotten the vent just the right diameter, although the hole quickly vanished into darkness, so he couldn’t tell if it changed farther in.

  Josiah grimaced in frustration. There’s got to be something.

  Unless it’s the powder.

  Smash it, I think it must be. Look in the powder room.

  Sar moved the window to the stern of the ship. The room full of barrels was dark, but with some searching they located a time when one of the Secrets officers was preparing bundles of powder and loading them into buckets. Josiah watched him pour ladles of powder onto squares of cloth. Zoom in as close as you can get. Sar complied. It looks the same. Maybe a little browner…no, I think that’s the light. He stared at the pile of powder until the officer wrapped the cloth around it and tied the bundle closed. We’ve got to find a way to get at least one shot’s worth and take it back to Meira. The obvious way to test the powder had come to him while they traveled. If we use it to fire our weapon and get the same results as with Meira’s powder, we’ll know it’s the design of the weapon. But if we get the same range as the Armada weapons get, we’ll know the problem is with our blasting powder.

  And then they would truly be at an impasse, because neither he nor Meira had any idea how to improve on Master Noadiah’s formula. They’d have to figure out some strategy that took as much advantage as possible of the shorter-ranged weapons. Or else steal a few hundred barrels of the Ramunnans’ blasting powder.

  The idea that all their hard work building the blasting powder mill might be in vain made him feel as if one of the cold iron balls was lodged in his belly. Go back to the weapon. I want to check it one more time.

  If you insist. Sar moved the window back to the bow of the ship.

  In this time there were Secrets officers in the front room, too, working on cleaning and polishing the weapon. They had the hatch open so the morning sunlight could illuminate their work. As Sar maneuvered the window around the weapon, Josiah caught a glimpse inside the muzzle, where a bright half-oval of light fell against the inner wall. A line of shadow cut across the illuminated patch.

  Sar, look! What’s that?

  The donkey moved the window closer, until they could see that a neat groove was cut into the inner surface of the weapon. It curved in a smooth line from the muzzle until it vanished into the darkness. Its path would make a loose spiral around the bore if it continued beyond the few inches they could see.

  That’s it. That’s got to be it. Tenorran told Meira the inside of the weapon was smooth, but obviously it’s not. He must have lied to her. Anger at the Ramunnan’s duplicity wasn’t enough to dampen his excitement. He wanted to make our weapons not work as well as theirs. This must be what gives theirs the extra range.

  How?

  Sar’s question brought Josiah’s eager words to a halt while he considered it. He pictured the ball blasting out of the weapon, propelled by the explosive force of the powder, scraping past the spiraling groove. I don’t know. Maybe it makes the ball spin?

  Would that make it fly farther?

  I bet it would. Fletchers put feathers on arrows at a slant, to make them spin while they fly. I bet it helps. He wanted to race back to Korisan with their discovery so Meira could start testing it right away. Can you see if there’s just the one groove? Maybe there are others.

  Sar moved the window around, but the rest of the weapon’s muzzle was in such deep shadow Josiah couldn’t see anything. They searched through the other ships, sampling many different times, but the vast majority of the time the hatches were closed and only dim light fell on the weapons. Nowhere or when could they get a good look inside any of them.

  As dusk neared, Josiah took his hand off Sar and rubbed it against his breeches. It’s no good. We have to get back to the market. Even if we had days to search, it would always be too dark inside the bore to see. We need to get close enough to one of the ships to send the Mother’s power into the weapon and light it up. He swallowed. I guess we could find a rowboat or something. But I don’t know how to keep them from spotting us. At night they’d see the Mother’s power. And we’d be within the weapon’s range…

  Sar flicked his ears forward and back and pushed out the door. We can worry about that later. Right now we need to get back to the market so that woman can take us to Savir.

  Josiah had to agree. He hurried through streets lit orange by the setting sun, Sar trotting at his heels.

  Twenty-Two

  When Josiah and Sar reached the market, the woman was dawdling over shutting down her stall, slowly rubbing the spotless counter with a rag. She gave them an impatient look, then ignored them. She picked up a basket holding the last of her unsold produce, locked the stall door, and hurried to a side street. Josiah tried not to look rushed as he strove to keep her in sight. Sar abandoned his pretense of reluctance and trotted beside him.

  She led them through a twisting maze of narrow streets, deep into a section of the city packed with old buildings holding small shops and smaller residences. Lanterns guttered in a few windows, but the streets were empty. Without warning the woman vanished inside a door that opened for her and slammed shut behind.

  A moment later the door opened again. “Josiah! Sar! Come in.” Savir beckoned them urgently through the door. As soon as they were inside he swung it closed. At his side, Music gave a soft woof of welcome. “What are you two doing here? Elkan didn’t say you were coming. Is something wrong? He wouldn’t have sent you unless it was important.”

  Josiah squirmed. “He didn’t exactly send us. I… kind of snuck off without his permission.”

  Savir’s eyebrows went up. “I won’t pretend I always did exactly what my master told me when I was an apprentice, but this is hardly the time for mischief.” He gestured at the other people in the room. “We’ve got plans underway you could have disrupted.”

  “It’s not mischief. This is important.” Josiah poured out an account of the disappointing test of the weapon and an explanation of what he sought. “I can’t go back without getting a better look. We don’t have time to get it right by trial and error. And I need to get a sample of their powder, too. It could be both.”

  Savir nodded slowly. “It might be possible. We’ve been planning something. You could come along; another wizard’s help would make things easier. You’ll at least be able to get a look at a weapon. And if our venture goes well, you’ll get your blasting powder, too.” He smiled grimly. “As much as you want.”

  Josiah’s heart pounded. “Tell me.”

  “After we get the evening’s reports. We limit information to those who need it. Which you won’t unless we confirm we can go forward. That way you won’t be able to give it up if you fall into Benarre’s hands and he puts Mirlen to work on you.”

  Josiah swallowed and nodded, remembering the way Lieutenant Mirlen had treated Hanion. “I understand.”

  Savir introduced him to the other occupants of the room. He indicated the vegetable stall woman. “Journeyman Aluma Traderkin Trader. She’s got a network of informants in her guild.” Next he pointed to a grizzled old man. “Master Madon Laborerkin Watcher. He’s the most senior of the watchers left in Elathir.” Last he put a hand on the shoulder of a tall, muscular woman. “Master Bransa Sailorkin Sailor. She’s made her ship available to the Ramunnans to resupply their vessels.”

  All three of them nodded warily at Josiah. Savir’s approval and Josiah’s status as a wizard were enough for them to accept his presence at their secret meeting, but he’d have to prove himself
if he wanted to win their full trust.

  Savir dragged a seat for Josiah into the circle of chairs by the cold hearth, and they all settled into their places. Music laid his head on Savir’s knee; the wizard put one hand out and the other on the dog’s back. A window bloomed over his palm, clearing to show a small bare room with stone walls. Guildmaster Hanion sat on a narrow bed and spoke into the air. “They came to some sort of decision at the meeting this morning, but I haven’t been able to learn what it was. There’s been a lot of activity around the Hall, but Benarre didn’t let any hints drop about what he’s doing. I’m sure he no longer trusts me, at least about where the wizards went. But I don’t think he realizes yet how much I’ve misled him.” He shook his head. “More and more they speak Ramunnan around me. I’m afraid my reports will be of little help to you from now on, but I’ll continue making them at the usual time. May the Mother guide and guard you.” He fell silent, staring into space.

  Josiah started to speak, but Savir waved him silent. The window over his hand swirled with golden clouds, then cleared again to show an attractive young woman crowded into a closet among brooms and mops. Her shoulders drooped, and she spoke in a discouraged voice. “Still no luck learning how the keys work. I thought I had it for sure. I persuaded Lorrenna to show them to me, and he was even willing to play with them a little, but he I couldn’t get him to tell me the proper sequence.” Her brows quirked and she gave a rueful laugh. “I told him he could use them to unlock my secrets. But he laughed and said he’d rather see me explode. Which I suppose confirms that the wrong sequence triggers the trap.” She sighed. “I’ll watch for any other Secrets officers that come to the Haven, but it doesn’t look like there’s much chance I’ll get any of them to talk. They’re all too disciplined.” She nodded and waved, then opened the closet door and slipped out.

  Bransa cursed. “That’s it, then. Without the key code, we don’t dare risk it.”

  Madon grimaced. “Maybe Benarre decided not to send the reconnaissance party after all. At least that would give us a little more time.”