The Wizards' War

by Angela Holder

  “Go ahead and unlock the door.” Savir waited while Josiah and Sar worked each of the three sets of tumblers and released the latch. “This does simplify things. We won’t have to steal a set of keys.” He shook his head. “You stay put. I’ll go tell Bransa.”

  He headed toward the ladder, Music at his heels. Before ascending, he stopped and looked back. “Um, Josiah? Thank you. You’ve been a tremendous help. I’m sorry I panicked and yelled at you.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” The apology made Josiah feel better. He hadn’t meant to take such a big risk. It had just seemed so obvious he hadn’t stopped to think. That was usually how he got into trouble. He was very glad the results this time had been positive.

  Savir’s smile widened. “But you can tell Elkan I’m glad you’re his apprentice, not mine!” He turned to boost Music up the ramp and climbed up behind him.

  Josiah watched through a window as Bransa’s workers hauled load after load of supplies down into the hold of the Ramunnan ship. Quietly, in the middle of the transfer, some of the workers detoured to the deserted corridor outside the Secrets room, slipped through the unlocked door, and concealed barrels of powder in the empty crates and boxes they were carrying back to the Tevenaran vessel. The Ramunnans never gave them a second glance.

  After all the supplies had been transferred and the full water casks exchanged for empty ones, Bransa’s crew returned to her ship. The sailors cast loose the ropes, and they headed back to the docks.

  The next morning Josiah watched with Savir as rank after rank of soldiers marched across the bridge and turned northwest toward Korisan. “So many. Will Elkan be able to handle them, do you think?”

  “This group, yes. As long as he’s paying attention. He’s got scouts on the road, so he should have plenty of warning.”

  Josiah felt reassured until he realized what Savir wasn’t saying. “But what about when he has to fight all the Ramunnans?”

  Savir shrugged, his eyes on the marching troops, his hand stroking Music’s back. “We’ll see. Blowing up the bridge will help, and so will those weapons you’re building, if you can get them finished in time. But when we’re facing numbers so large the Mother’s power can’t overwhelm them—it will be close. And ugly. I hope Elkan’s prepared for that.”

  “Of course he is.” Despite Josiah’s confident words, he wondered.

  “Tell him I’ll keep sending reports about anything we learn. Everyone in the city will be ready to rise against the Ramunnans when he gives the word.”

  “I will.”

  They bid farewell, and Josiah set out. This time he took the route on the south bank of the Tarath. The Ramunnan guard on the road out of town gave Sar’s packs only a cursory search. He didn’t even open the sacks of flour in which the bundles of blasting powder were concealed. Josiah was bringing Meira enough to fire their weapon three times. That should tell them with as much certainty as they were going to get whether or not their powder provided a similar amount of force. If they continued to get the same short range as with Master Noadiah’s powder, they’d have the smiths go to work carving spiral grooves into the weapon.

  If that still didn’t give them the range they needed…

  Josiah refused to consider it. The grooves had to be the decisive factor. There was nothing else that differed between their weapon and the Ramunnan ones.

  He set a steady but unhurried pace. They couldn’t hope to arrive in Korisan before the Ramunnan force got there, so they’d have to trust Elkan to deal with them. Hopefully when they got back his master would be so happy about his first victory and so pleased with the results of Josiah’s mission he’d overlook his apprentice’s disobedience.

  Twenty-Three

  Tobi let the window collapse over Elkan’s outstretched hand. Elkan addressed the group of twenty masters from various crafts who were taking their turn passing judgements. “Do any doubts remain concerning these people’s guilt?”

  One by one the masters confirmed that they were convinced. The window had clearly shown each of the three women and two men pilfering through refugees’ belongings and secreting the valuables they found in a cache in the woods. The recovered coins, jewelry, and small tools lay on a table in the center of the hot, crowded little courtroom.

  “Is there a consensus on their sentence?”

  The masters exchanged glances. The leader of the panel spoke. “I see no reason for anything other than the standard penalty. Twice the value of the stolen goods to the victims in coin or labor, and a week’s labor in service to the community.” The rest of them murmured agreement.

  Except for one. A master dyer—Elkan couldn’t remember his name—scowled and stood up. “This is the fifth case of theft we’ve seen this week. The standard sentence isn’t enough to deter those who see a chance to make a dishonest profit while the wizards and watchers are distracted. I say we make it a month of service. That will give those like them second thoughts.”

  Many of the rest nodded approval, but others looked uncertain. A master watcher said, “The extra labor will be valuable. The camp latrines are overflowing for lack of hands to fill them and dig new ones.”

  Elkan could think of a dozen other unpleasant tasks that desperately needed doing. Volunteers were hard to come by for the worst jobs when everyone’s skills were badly needed for more urgent matters. But the idea of altering the time-honored penalty for theft gave him a queasy feeling in his stomach. “Consider this carefully. What these folk have done is no worse than the crimes of others before them. Is the current situation a valid reason to punish them more severely?”

  The oldest member of the panel, a master weaver whose wisdom Elkan had come to greatly respect, stood and spoke. “I believe it is. Their crime is not only against the individuals whose goods they stole, but against Tevenar. In these troubled days, anything that interferes with our trust in each other and disrupts our preparation for battle threatens our very survival. They should make restitution for what they’ve cost the war effort by working long and hard to advance it.”

  After that, the masters quickly agreed to require the longer term of service, and to recommend it for future similar offenses. Elkan put his hand on Tobi’s head. He still felt uneasy, but at least this reasoning for the more severe sentence lent itself to being reversed once the war was over. It would be far too easy for the people of Tevenar to use this crisis as an excuse to forsake their long-standing tradition of moderation in favor of ever harsher and crueler justice. “The Mother sets her seal on your judgement.”

  The watchers guarding the convicted thieves escorted them out of the courtroom. It wasn’t yet noon; they could put in half a day’s work toward their sentences before sunset. Another watcher headed to the table full of stolen goods. Elkan moved to join him. Come on, Tobi. Let’s make sure he knows who to return these—

  A messenger burst through the door. “Master Elkan! Important news!”

  Elkan’s stomach plummeted and his hands went cold. “Come to my office.” At least the messenger had followed his orders and refrained from blurting out her tidings where everyone could hear. He couldn’t afford panic spreading through overcrowded Korisan.

  As soon as the office door closed behind them, he turned to the messenger, firmly putting aside his dread. “Let me hear it.”

  “A force of Ramunnans are approaching on the main road from Elathir. The advance post spotted them at midmorning. They’ll be here before nightfall.”

  “How many?”

  “Around three hundred.”

  “Do they have any of the blasting weapons with them?” Elkan’s pulse pounded in his ears as he waited for the answer.

  “No, sir. Only swords and bows.”

  Thank the Mother. “Ride to the camp. Tell the leaders of the first six mounted groups to get their people ready. Also the first three groups of archers.” Would that be enough? His forces had trained hard, but they had no idea what real combat would be like. He had little idea himself. “And the first six group
s of foot fighters.”

  With each group consisting of around a hundred people, that would give him roughly five times the Ramunnans’ numbers by the time everyone arrived. Probably far more than he’d need, but he’d rather be over-prepared than under. “After that go to the auxiliary Mother’s Hall and tell them the wizards who’ve been training with the fighters need to report to the camp.” When Korisan’s Mother’s Hall had overflowed with wizards reporting in from the rest of Tevenar, a number of the wizards had established a cluster of large tents near the training camp as a temporary base of operations. “I’ll collect the ones who’re here and bring them with me. We leave in one hour.”

  Which meant it would actually be closer to two before they set out. Should he take the mounted fighters ahead, to meet the Ramunnans as far from Korisan as possible? Or should he keep his forces together? Maybe he should have assigned more wizards to heavy combat training. But the absence of the hundred he’d chosen to spend their mornings or afternoons training, combined with the half day per week he required from the rest, was already making it difficult to provide even a bare minimum of their basic services.

  The need for the Mother’s power was greater than ever. Crime had increased. Diseases spread rapidly through the hot, overcrowded town. Emergencies cropped up constantly. None of the wizards were getting the rest the Law required, and the strain was beginning to interfere with their ability to carry out their responsibilities. A few days ago an outbreak of sickness caused by contaminated water had affected so many people that the exhausted wizards had barely gotten to everyone in time. They couldn’t hope to handle many more incidents like that without losing lives. But the situation was only going to get worse as long as the war lasted.

  Elkan wrenched his mind away from the endless litany of worries that constantly droned in the background of his thoughts. At least now he could act. Tobi pressed close; he put his hand on her head and followed the messenger out of the office into the main Hall.

  A wall of noise assaulted him. Children yelled, laughed, cried, shouted, chattered, screamed. Their voices echoed from the soaring stone walls. Too few adults did their best to supervise the chaos. Elkan hunched his shoulders as he dodged a pack of children running in pursuit of one fleeing boy. He wasn’t sure if it was a game of some sort or if the lone child was in trouble. But he couldn’t take time from his mission to ascertain the truth. He watched them as he crossed to a door on the far side. When they raced near a man with a wailing baby in each arm and he only smiled wearily, Elkan had to assume matters weren’t too far out of control.

  He had to find a better solution for the care of children whose parents were busy training to fight or supporting those who were. Putting them in the Hall had seemed like a good idea at first, but in practice it was a disaster. He hadn’t been able to come up with anything better, though. There was no other building large enough to house them all. The older children needed to be outside, where they could run and play freely, but there weren’t enough adults available to supervise them without walls to keep them from scattering in every direction. The younger ones needed even more hands-on guidance, and someone to comfort them when they got upset or hurt, like the toddler Elkan spotted sitting in the middle of the floor, quietly sobbing, with no adult anywhere nearby.

  It was all he could do to ignore her distress and continue through the door into the dining hall, where the wizards displaced from their normal space had set up. They were packed in too tightly to give patients much privacy, and those waiting their turn had to line up outside, but other than that their work seemed to be proceeding normally.

  Elkan hurried to Master Mebora, who with her familiar, a calico cat named Sunflower, was in charge. He pulled her aside from where they were moving among the waiting patients, evaluating their needs and assigning them to other wizards. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to take the fighters with me.”

  Mebora caught her breath. In a low voice, she asked, “The Ramunnans?”

  “On their way. A small force, it appears, but I’m not taking any chances.”

  She nodded. “Of course not. Go on, I’ll pass the word and send them along as they finish with their patients. Unless you need to interrupt them now?”

  “No, that should be all right.” Keeping this quiet so people wouldn’t panic was nearly as important as speed. “But if any of them are tied up with a complex case have someone else take over.”

  “Understood.” Mebora made a sign of blessing. “May the Mother protect you.”

  “And all of us.” Elkan headed out the door as she moved to quietly speak with one wizard after another.

  Outside he lengthened his stride and headed through the crowded streets toward the camp. Tobi forged ahead, clearing a path. Elkan called hasty apologies to anyone who looked annoyed, but most pressed willingly to the side to let them pass.

  He passed the smithy where the enormous mold stood ready to cast more weapons as soon as Meira and Josiah gave the word. He clenched his fists and sent a prayer to the Mother for Josiah’s safety. Had the Ramunnans caught him? Was that the reason for their action? Even if it wasn’t, what if he blundered into them on the road? He’d had plenty of time to reach Elathir, but he might be on his way back. Despite his anger at his apprentice for ignoring his orders and putting himself in danger yet again, Elkan hoped Josiah had been able to accomplish his mission. If he returned with information that allowed them to fix the mysterious defect in the weapon they’d built, Elkan would have a hard time disciplining him as he deserved. Maybe it was just as well he wasn’t here, begging to participate.

  At least Meira was safe at the blasting powder mill. She probably wouldn’t learn of the coming battle until it was over, one way or the other. He wouldn’t have to worry about her, and she wouldn’t have the chance to worry about him.

  He briefly considered using the weapon, as much to test it in actual battle conditions and give its crew some experience as for any strategic advantage it might give, but he quickly dismissed the idea. They shouldn’t need it to defeat such a small number of Ramunnans. Keeping it secret remained a higher priority.

  The camp was buzzing with barely contained excitement when he arrived. Horses were milling about everywhere. Many of their riders seemed to have forgotten everything they’d learned about managing their long spears so they didn’t pose more of a threat to their neighbors than to their enemies. The foot fighters seemed a little better organized, but those who hadn’t been chosen to participate kept swarming around, trying to help or demanding to be included. Elkan spotted a group of archers wandering with confused looks on their faces, asking everyone they saw where they were supposed to go. Someone pointed down the road toward Elathir and they rushed off eagerly. He hoped that really was where the other archers were assembling.

  Elkan made his way to the picket lines. The guildmaster of the Herders’ Guild was supervising those who were still mounting. Tobi, stay well back. A few of the horses were already tossing their heads and rolling their eyes as they caught the predator’s scent.

  Spoilsport. The mountain cat lolled her tongue at him, but she sat on her haunches and waited while he went on.

  A herder brought him the placid mare they’d trained to tolerate Tobi’s presence. He had to keep his familiar close enough to touch. Snowflake still wasn’t totally comfortable with Tobi padding at her flank, but as long as Elkan kept a firm hand on the reins she stayed docile.

  Elkan mounted, veered back so Tobi could take her place next to Snowflake without further agitating the other horses, and circled around to where his officers were gathered. Each group of a hundred had three leaders, mostly watchers and farmers for the foot fighters, herders for the mounted fighters, and hunters for the archers. Two were with each group now, while the third waited to carry his orders back.

  Master Edniel, Guildmaster of the Watchers’ Guild, was nominally his second-in-command. So far Elkan had left organization of the fighters almost completely to her, only making a few suggestions
about how she might best deploy the wizards. She gave him an indulgent smile as he rode up. “Think you’re taking enough people?”

  Elkan bit his lip. “Do you think this is too many? We could order some to stay in reserve.”

  She shrugged. “I would have suggested fewer, but there’s no reason to cut back. Everyone’s raring for action; it will do them good to get out of camp. As long as we don’t let them get in each other’s way it won’t hurt to have more than we need.”

  “Arrange them however you think best. I’m hoping that with all the wizards we’ll be able to minimize casualties on both sides.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She lowered her voice. “But Elkan, you can’t be so concerned for the Ramunnans you hesitate to do what’s necessary to win.”

  “I know.” Dear Mother, he hated having to think this way, even though he knew she was right. This war had already cost so many lives. Each one added to the toll was another weight on his heart. “Be sure to warn me if you think I’m erring in that direction.”

  “I will.” Edniel gave him a sharp nod. “I suggest we put the archers in front with the wizards behind, followed by the mounted fighters, and the foot fighters bringing up the rear.”

  “Sounds good. See to it.”

  Edniel sent the rest of the leaders back to their groups with detailed instructions. Elkan rode over to check on the assembling wizards, but Kaniel had them well organized. Windsong alternately circled overhead and landed on his shoulder, watching everything with her unblinking yellow eyes. All hundred of the wizards Elkan had chosen to focus on fighting were journeymen or young masters with familiars they could either ride, like Avna and her horse Blackie, or that were small and agile enough to ride ordinary horses with them, like Nachra and her coral snake Sethi.

  A messenger galloped up on a sweaty horse. “Master Elkan! The Ramunnan force has reached the second lookout post.”

  Ten miles away. Considering the distance they’d have advanced while the messenger rode, the Tevenarans would probably have to travel less than an hour to meet them. Closer to Korisan than he liked, but to have pushed it any farther away would have required him to establish more distant messenger outposts. He’d decided the risk of early discovery wasn’t worth it. “Did they see you?”