Frowns and mutters answered his words. Encouraged, Elkan continued. “I believe there’s no need to alter the plans we’ve worked for months to implement. Everything is in place to launch the attack against Elathir first thing in the morning. We’re strong enough to carry the fight to our enemies and defeat them. When we drive them back onto their ships and away from our shores, Tevenar will be ours again.”
Elkan sat down. Many guildmasters were nodding and voicing their approval. But he kept his eyes on Hanion.
Hanion rose and addressed the Council. “Master Elkan raises some good points. I don’t dispute his estimate of our chances of success. But I’m afraid he isn’t sufficiently accounting for the difference in risk of our two approaches. If we leave for Elathir in the morning to drive the Ramunnans out of Tevenar, how many lives will it cost? How many of our family members and friends will we bury after the Ramunnans are gone? How many strong, healthy young people will bleed and die before a wizard can reach them? Isn’t it worth their lives to take the slower, more patient route?” He blinked and scratched Mavke between the ears.
Smash it, if Elkan weren’t sure Hanion believed what he was saying, he’d be furious at the Guildmaster. He put his hand on Tobi’s head and stood up again. “Guildmaster Hanion knows that I, of all people, place a high value on every life that will be lost. But I remind you that waiting is not without risk, either. Guildmaster Sabanan, will you speak to the situation of the Farmers’ Guild if the war continues into the harvest season?”
The weathered old man looked startled to be called on, but he nodded and rose. “More than half of the members of the Farmers’ Guild have come to Korisan to train as fighters. Fortunately most of the planting was completed before the Ramunnans arrived. Crops can grow through the summer with minimal care. But if the farmers don’t return to their fields for the harvest, it will all go to waste. Without enough hands to bring it in, grain will rot in the fields. Our stores were depleted by last year’s disaster. Another poor harvest will lead to famine even worse than what we feared then.”
Elkan raised his voice to carry over the worried hum that erupted. “We’ve been eating the food supplied by the Matriarch of Ramunna in return for my services. When it’s gone, there will be no more from that source. If this war drags on too long, Tevenar will starve.”
Hanion waited for the agitated buzz to die down before speaking in a reasonable tone. “No one is proposing allowing the war to go on so long. I merely suggest that we remain and defend Korisan for a few weeks, perhaps a month. Master Elkan, don’t I recall you telling us that the Armada wouldn’t stay in Tevenar for long? That the Matriarch would recall them to Ramunna due to threats from her enemies at home?”
Elkan swallowed. “That’s right. The Purifiers and Faithful were conspiring to provoke an attack by Marvanna, the country to the north of Ramunna.”
He saw confusion on most of the guildmaster’s faces. He didn’t blame them. Ramunnan politics were so convoluted he wasn’t sure he fully understood them himself, even after many hours of explanation from Gevan and far too much personal experience with the hostile factions. “They intended to force the Matriarch to recall the Armada from Tevenar after they defeated us. However, we have no way of knowing if their plot succeeded. Even if it did, the earliest a ship could have reached Ramunna with news that the Armada had taken Elathir would have been around a month ago. It would take at least a month to arrange the attack by Marvanna, and another two months for a messenger ship to cross the ocean. Which would put it here two months from now, well into the harvest.”
Everyone looked more confused than ever, but Hanion nodded. “So you see, we have plenty of time. If we wait for several weeks and the Ramunnans don’t attack Korisan, we can reconsider attacking Elathir. Savir will alert us if a new ship from Ramunna arrives and summons the Armada ships home. Think how much better it will be if they leave of their own accord. We’ll be able to return to Elathir with no bloodshed whatsoever.”
The guildmasters liked that prospect. Excited voices broke out everywhere. Hanion quieted them and called for discussion. Various guildmasters spoke on both sides. General sentiment seemed to be swaying towards Hanion’s position, but a sizable group still supported Elkan’s original plan. He listened with growing concern. If they couldn’t reach a consensus one way or the other, they’d have to keep debating until they did, even if it took days or weeks. Hanion would win by default.
When a council stayed deadlocked too long, the guildmasters became more and more angry with each other, losing sight of their common purpose. Unity was vital right now. A flawed compromise might serve Tevenar better than a long-drawn-out and acrimonious fight, even if Elkan eventually prevailed.
After a dozen guildmasters aired their views, Hanion announced a break. Noise filled the courtroom as council members chattered to each other, many rising to stretch their legs or leaving to seek the privy.
Hanion sat down next to Elkan, leaned close, and spoke softly. “Elkan, surely we can come to some sort of agreement? We don’t differ in what we want, only in how best to achieve it. I want the Ramunnans out of Tevenar just as much as you do. And I know you don’t want to lead Tobi into any greater danger than you must. Or Josiah and Sar, either. Master Meira will be safer if we follow my plan, as well.”
Blast it, were his feelings for Meira so obvious Hanion had noticed them over the course of a single speech? “Of course I don’t want to expose anyone to unnecessary danger.”
“But that’s what you’re doing. You’ve done an amazing job getting us ready to fight so quickly, but now that we are, we don’t have to rush into anything. It will only take a few days to know if Benarre was telling the truth or lying. My escape might even cause him to change his plans. We can afford to wait until Savir’s next report.”
“Savir and his allies have planned an uprising to coincide with our attack. Delaying it will put them at risk.”
“I’m sure they have contingency plans. Savir knew his mission would be dangerous when he volunteered for it. So did everyone who stayed behind.”
Hanion’s arguments were so reasonable. Maybe it really would be better to wait, at least for a short while. Maybe the single-minded urgency to get everything and everyone ready as soon as possible that had consumed him for months was blinding him to perfectly valid alternatives. Maybe it was only his selfish desire to get the final battle over with that urged him to advance on Elathir immediately.
Hanion spread his hands. “Give me a week. If Benarre hasn’t attacked Korisan by next Firstday, he probably won’t. We can reevaluate then.”
Elkan swallowed. His selfish desire to protect those he loved urged him to accept Hanion’s proposal—no maybes about it. The thought that the battle he dreaded but had steeled himself to face could be delayed a week or a month, or even avoided altogether, swept him with a heady rush of relief.
Would it be it wisdom or cowardice to defer to the older wizard’s authority? Did he care?
Mother, what should I do? Please, show me the course you want me to take. What choice is most likely to lead to the future you desire, that you promised us is still possible, when your power will serve all your children?
Tobi rubbed her face against his hand but remained silent. He wasn’t surprised. This decision was his alone to make.
He forced himself to examine Hanion’s request objectively, with only cold reason and careful calculation. He could think of no compelling reason to refuse. Another week for the fighters to train could only increase their skills. The smiths could forge more blades for the fighters and balls for the weapons, the fletchers could produce more arrows, the mill could grind more barrels of blasting powder. Meira’s teams could increase their accuracy and speed with the weapons. Savir’s folk in Elathir could chip away a little more at their enemies’ strength.
Elkan ran his hand down Tobi’s neck and pressed his hand into her fur. “People are excited about leaving in the morning. They won’t be happy.”
Hanion knew he’d won, but thankfully he didn’t gloat. “I’ll take the blame.”
“Only one week. We go to Elathir next Secondday unless Benarre comes to us first.”
Hanion nodded. “Or unless something else happens to make further delay a better choice.”
That was a loophole you could drive a wagon through, but Elkan chose not to argue. “All right.”
Hanion gave him a pleased smile and rose to call the meeting back to order. When everyone was in place, he turned to Elkan. “Master Elkan, will you describe to the Council the compromise we just discussed?”
Elkan rose and outlined the plan in terse sentences. He looked around, making eye contact with each of the guildmasters who’d spoken in favor of attacking Elathir immediately. “Guildmaster Hanion has persuaded me that this course of action is best for Tevenar at this time. I ask you to give him your support.”
The discussion that followed was brief. All Elkan’s strongest allies voiced their concession. Elkan saw mostly relief in their faces, with some cautious skepticism but no open displeasure.
When no one else rose to speak, Hanion nodded. “Good, I think we’ve reached a consensus. We’ll postpone the attack on Elathir for at least one week. Next Firstday we’ll meet again and consider the situation anew. Who concurs?”
One by one the members of the Council affirmed their support. Elkan shifted his weight forward, about to rise and speak the traditional words, before he remembered he no longer represented the Wizards’ Guild. He sank back in his seat, face hot, as Hanion delivered the guild’s formal consent, pronounced the Mother’s blessing on the decision, and declared the meeting closed.
Either Hanion hadn’t noticed his blunder or was gracious enough to ignore it. The Guildmaster moved around the room, chatting with various guildmasters, answering their questions about his captivity, waving away their awed condolences. He frequently paused to crouch and shower Mavke with affection. The bulldog pressed against his ankles, tail never ceasing wagging.
Elkan sighed and headed for the door. He emerged into the noisy chaos of the main Hall. The children were playing a game that involved a lot of running and shouting.
“Elkan!” He turned to see Meira waving at him. She was seated on the floor next to the wall, Ravid in her lap. Next to her sat Jamis, who was holding a baby while several toddlers clambered over him.
A hot rush of anger engulfed Elkan. What was Jamis doing with Meira? He wanted to charge over, interpose his body between them, and order Jamis to get away from her, enforcing his demand with physical violence if Jamis didn’t immediately comply.
He fought to keep his reaction off his face and waved back. Children converged on Tobi, reaching to stroke her thick fur or fondle her ears. He seized the opportunity to crouch and smile at them. Meira wouldn’t notice anything strange about his actions, and it would allow him to avoid the two of them for a few minutes.
Elkan struggled to get control of his emotions as he murmured the usual reminders to be gentle. His reaction was irrational. Meira was simply speaking with one of the people caring for her child. Jamis was fulfilling the duty Elkan himself had assigned him. Their postures suggested nothing but the friendly camaraderie any two parents might share while watching their children play together.
Those sensible reflections did little to slow his racing heart or calm his quickened breaths. He’d thought he’d dealt with any lingering resentment of Jamis long ago. But somehow the sight of him with Meira bypassed his logical human mind and triggered all his possessive animal instincts. His rival had already stolen one mate from him, and he’d tear into him with teeth and claws before he’d let him take another.
He pressed his face into Tobi’s shoulder, shaking with something between a laugh and a sob at the image. Jamis hadn’t stolen Liand; she’d left Elkan of her own free will. And Meira wasn’t his mate, no matter what his body wanted.
This was ridiculous. He had to stop acting like a lovesick apprentice. Dear Mother, Josiah was behaving more maturely. If he couldn’t conduct himself like a responsible adult around Meira, maybe he should just resign his mastership and quit pretending he was capable of making any decision that wasn’t driven by lust for her.
He breathed deep and hard, willing the turmoil in his heart to settle. Eventually it did. Tobi licked his face, her rough tongue rasping against his cheek. Feel better?
A little. It must be worse than he thought if she wasn’t teasing him.
He hadn’t verbalized the thought, but maybe she’d picked it up anyway, because she shoved him with her shoulder, nearly knocking him over. Good. Now go show that tom he’d better stay away from your female.
He chuckled, braced himself for the coming ordeal, and rose. He walked over to Meira and Jamis. “It never fails. Every time we walk through here, the children swarm over Tobi like she’s a giant kitten.”
Meira grinned, set Ravid down, and extended her hand. “Isn’t she?”
He pulled her up. “Yes, but you’d think the fangs and claws would hide the fact.”
Jamis chuckled and climbed to his feet, shifting the baby to his hip. “Children can spot a kitten from miles away, no matter how well it’s disguised. Last week they found one that looked exactly like a skunk.”
Meira winced. “Oh, no.”
“Oh, yes. Luckily the wizards heard us yelling and one got here in time to freeze it right as it was getting ready to spray. There was much lamentation when we insisted she take it out to the woods before she released it.”
Elkan laughed with them, shaking his head.
Meira grinned at him and scooped Ravid up. “Hanion didn’t cause too much trouble, I hope? You can tell me all about the meeting over the evening meal. We’d better enjoy it; after this it’s travel rations until we clear out a few kitchens in Elathir.”
“Actually, plans have changed.” He met her startled look with as much confidence as he could muster. “Benarre told Hanion they’re going to attack Korisan. Hanion’s convinced we need to wait and fight them here. The Council agreed.”
“What?” Meira’s chin came up and her eyes blazed. “All the plans you’ve made, everything you’ve been working toward for months, all the preparations we’ve missed sleep and meals to finish in time, and they tossed them out the window? How dare they!”
“It’s only for a week,” he hastened to reassure her. “We’re meeting again next Firstday to reevaluate the situation.”
“When Hanion will have some new excuse to undermine you. That’s what he’s doing, you know. Master Dabiel named you as her successor. Hanion won’t let you do anything that might make people think they should have confirmed you as Guildmaster instead of electing him. If you lead us to victory over the Ramunnans, you become a threat to his power.”
“That’s ridiculous,” he protested, though her words sent a cold shaft of fear into his gut. “In the Wizards’ Guild, appointment as Guildmaster is for life. Unless his bond is broken, of course. Or if the masters of the guild call for a new election, but that’s never happened. He can’t think I would try to depose him.”
“Others might on your behalf.” She clutched Ravid and glared at him.
Elkan made himself shake his head and laugh. “This isn’t Ramunna, and Hanion’s not the Matriarch, to plot and scheme and see enemies in every shadow. We disagree about the best strategy, is all. And we reached a reasonable compromise. Another week to prepare will be good for everyone. Now that all ten weapons are finished, the teams won’t have to take turns practicing any more. Don’t tell me Sachiel won’t benefit by more time to earn his team’s respect.”
Her mouth twisted into a reluctant half-smile. “He’ll be fine as soon as he realizes it’s not rude to command instead of making polite requests.” Her eyes narrowed and the smile fell away. “But that’s beside the point. The issue isn’t when we attack. It’s that Hanion’s made it his decision, not yours. That’s not fair. He turned over responsibility for Tevenar’s defense to you.”
“And now h
e’s taking it back. That’s his right. He’s Guildmaster, not me.” He held up a hand to stop her protest. “Whether we like it or not. The election was entirely proper; I was there for the whole thing and I assure you Hanion did nothing unethical to influence the outcome. He presented his case, I presented mine, and the masters of the Wizards’ Guild made their choice.”
“But so much has changed since then. Do you honestly think they’d make the same choice now?” She tilted her head and looked into the distance. “Maybe I should speak to a few of them—”
He grabbed her arm. “Don’t. I mean it, Meira. That’s the worst possible thing you could do. Tevenar has to be united. If the Wizards’ Guild starts quarreling over who’s going to be in charge, we might as well surrender to the Ramunnans right now. We can’t beat them unless we work together. I won’t be the cause of the conflict that leads to our defeat. I’ll have Tobi break our bond first.”
He stared at her, panting. She stared back, eyes big and dark, all traces of humor gone from her face and voice. “I’m sorry. You’re right.”
“Promise me you won’t do anything that might weaken Hanion’s leadership, even slightly. Everyone has to see that we support him.”
“I promise.” She ducked her head to nuzzle Ravid’s hair. The toddler looked back and forth between them with an anxious frown.
Elkan released Meira’s arm and stepped back. His palm burned from the contact. “Jamis, please don’t repeat any of this. To anyone.”
“Of course not.” He nodded earnestly.
“Thank you. I know I can trust your discretion.”
Meira looked puzzled. “You know Jamis?”
Smash it. Elkan rubbed the base of his skull where a dull ache was beginning. “Yes. He—I—It’s complicated.”
The Wizards' War Page 44
