The Wizards' War

by Angela Holder

  He wouldn’t put down the stick he was using to dig. It jammed into Meira’s back as he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed enthusiastically. She fought to keep her voice cheerful and matter-of-fact, but despite her best effort it trembled. “I love you, Ravid. I promise, I’ll do my best to come back as soon as I can.”

  His arms tightened. “Don’t go, Mama.”

  “I have to, nugget.” She held him as long as she could, but the others had headed to the gathering place already. She’d be left behind if she lingered. “Go play with Dobon some more.”

  “No.” He dropped his stick and clung to her with all his strength.

  She swallowed and struggled not to cry, hugging him fiercely.

  Zagan came over and held out his arms. “Come on, buddy. I’ve got some taffy I’ve been saving for a special occasion.”

  Ravid perked up at the mention of his favorite treat, and Meira was able to transfer him into Zagan’s arms. But when she stepped back, he squirmed and reached for her, wailing, “Mama!”

  “I’m so sorry,” she whispered. She caught his hands to keep him from grabbing her as she bent to kiss his tear-wet cheek. “Good-bye.”

  She tore herself away and hurried toward the road. Behind her, Ravid’s shrieks rang through the quiet dawn air. “Mama! Mama!”

  * * *

  The field by the smithy swirled with activity. Herders hooked up teams of draft horses to the weapons’ wheeled cradles. Wagons piled with iron balls rumbled toward the road. For most of the day everyone would travel together. The two forces would split at the ford where the Deorga met the Tarath.

  Meira busied herself dealing with a string of minor crises. One member of the third weapon crew hadn’t shown up. Meira sent a messenger to find her. The ninth weapon got a wheel stuck in a muddy patch and had to be pried loose. A string of wagons loaded with blasting powder from the mill arrived bunched in a tight cluster. Meira gave the drivers a blistering lecture on the importance of keeping the explosive loads well separated.

  In the end they were only a little late getting to the staging area. The girl from the third crew finally arrived, pale and bleary-eyed, complaining of a nasty headache. Meira sent her to the wizards without disputing her claim of sudden illness.

  Not long after all the weapons, crews, and wagons were in their assigned places, the order came for the long parade to set out. Meira rode up and down the column on the horse she’d been given as leader of the blasters. The sheer size of their force impressed and cheered her. Gathered in one place like this, it seemed vast enough to overwhelm their enemies many times over.

  When she was satisfied all those under her command were settled into the journey, she rode to the front of the line to join the other leaders. One by one they gave their reports. Elkan listened gravely and spoke a few quiet words of acknowledgement and appreciation to each of them.

  Meira reported and fell back, watching him. He heard everyone out, then spoke with Master Edniel for a long time. About two hours out of Korisan, he finally finished dealing with business and drew a little apart from the other leaders.

  She gave him a while to rest, then urged her horse alongside his. “Looks like everything’s under control.”

  He smiled wearily at her. “There were fewer last minute problems than I feared, and Edniel dealt with most of them. There was nearly a riot when some of the fighters she assigned to stay and defend Korisan tried to force her to let them come along, but she took care of it before I even knew it was happening.”

  Alarm coursed through Meira. “They won’t ignore her and follow us, will they?” She’d thought Ravid would be safe in Korisan, but if its defenders deserted it, the town would be vulnerable. Why hadn’t she insisted Zagan take the boys back to Shalinthan?

  “Edniel says they won’t. I have to trust her.”

  He didn’t seem overly worried, so Meira tucked the concern away. “We’re on schedule to reach the ford mid-afternoon?”

  “Yes. I built some leeway into the timing. We’ll be traveling a little later tonight than would be ideal, but it won’t be a problem.”

  “Good. Where’s Tobi? Out hunting?”

  “I sent her ahead to look for ambushes. Though she’ll probably catch a few rabbits along the way. I don’t expect to meet any Ramunnans before we reach the city, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. Other familiars are scouting ahead, as well.”

  “Tharanirre?”

  “She’s with Josiah. Sar offered to carry her so she could rest from her journey. We’ll keep her busy tomorrow.”

  Meira nodded and let the conversation lapse. They rode together in companionable silence. Occasionally they chatted a little about safe, unemotional topics, but there were few of those available. Even the most innocent subject veered quickly into past regrets, present worries, or future fears. So most of the time they simply drank in the beauty of the summer woods and meadows. Elkan’s presence calmed Meira’s anxieties. Whenever her thoughts turned to troubled speculation about what the future might hold, she only had to look at him, riding relaxed beside her, hair streaming behind, the face she loved so much warmed by sunlight, and a sense of peace filled her. She hoped she was helping him the same way.

  They broke for the midday meal, which was as uninspiring as Zagan had warned her it would be, and continued riding. Well into the afternoon they reached the ford. Meira and Elkan joined the other leaders at the spot where the road branched and watched each group to make sure it took the correct path.

  Two groups of mounted fighters, three groups of foot fighters, a group of archers, two weapons, and twenty wizards were to continue down the main road on the north bank of the Tarath. They would strike suddenly just after dawn, giving the illusion the whole Tevenaran force was attacking.

  The two weapons, with their crews and attendant wagons of shot and blasting powder, veered onto the left-hand fork without incident. Sachiel and Jaron, who’d been walking together with clasped hands, embraced fiercely, kissed, murmured a few words too soft for Meira to hear, and turned resolutely away. Sachiel took his weapon and crew onto the main road, while Jaron led his crew to the ford and supervised as the horses drew the cumbersome weapon down the slope and into the swift, shallow water.

  Meira hated to part the couple, but Sachiel’s crew was by far the quickest at loading and firing their weapon, which would be invaluable in convincing the Ramunnans that many weapons, not just two, were attacking them. Jaron, on the other hand, was a bold and fiery leader. His crew would follow him into the thickest fighting without question. They were needed in the main force. If all went well, it would be only two days until they reunited in a liberated Elathir.

  Master Ferin led her small cluster of wizards past. Josiah walked in their midst, Sar plodding beside him. He wore a pack saddle, across which had been affixed a sturdy branch. Tharanirre perched on it, swaying with the motion of the donkey’s stride, bright eyes scanning her surroundings.

  Josiah broke free of the group and rushed to Elkan, waving something. “Master, look. I found a leatherworker. Let me see if it fits.”

  Elkan dismounted and extended his arm. Josiah wrapped the sheet of leather around it and laced it in place. “Kind of tight, but it will do.”

  Elkan flexed his arm. “Much better than talons cutting into my flesh.”

  Josiah beamed, then glanced over his shoulder. “I’ve got to go.”

  Elkan gave him a quick, impersonal hug. “Don’t keep Master Ferin waiting. Send Nirre whenever there’s anything to report. I’ll see you after the battle.”

  “Yes, sir.” Josiah grinned, nodded, and dashed off.

  Elkan swung back onto his horse. He watched as the group of wizards disappeared into the trees. Meira noticed him running his fingers back and forth along the leather arm guard.

  She sidled her mount closer. “He’ll be all right.”

  Elkan gave her a distracted smile which faded quickly. “I’m sure he will.” He snorted. “I expect by the time this is over, he’ll
either have done something brilliant to win the war for us, or something idiotically foolish to lose it. Possibly both.”

  His voice didn’t quite reach the tone of amused detachment it strove for. Meira reached over and put her hand on his arm.

  He looked at her, letting her see the bleak anguish beneath his forced humor. After a moment he turned away, nudging his mount toward the river. “That’s everyone on the north. Let’s get the south side organized.”

  The ford was just downstream from where the two rivers joined. The water spread wide and shallow as it crossed a flat rocky area. Sand and gravel had been added to make a smooth crossing. The horses splashed through without difficulty, the people on foot nearly as easily, with only a few boots full of water to be emptied on the far shore. The low-slung weapons got wet enough Meira ordered the crews to dry them so they wouldn’t rust, but other than that were fine. The wagons full of blasting powder rumbled across without incident, the barrels well above the level of the water.

  The iron balls, however, were far heavier than a typical trader’s load. Wagon after wagon dug their wheels deep into the soft bed of the ford. Horses had to be unhitched from wagons that had crossed safely and brought to add their strength to dislodge the stuck ones. Some of the wagons could be pulled free with four horses straining, but some took six. After the fourth wagon had been pried loose, with herders struggling to hitch up the horses in knee-deep water, Elkan order every ammunition wagon rigged with six horses before it entered the river. After that no more got stuck, but hitching and unhitching the teams took time. They were running more than an hour late by the time everyone was across.

  Elkan and Edniel pressed the pace the rest of the day. The roads on this side were more lightly traveled and less direct, sometimes wandering far from the river and bending back, often breaking into networks of narrow lanes. At every intersection Elkan had to point out the correct turn. It was long after sunset when they reached the farm where they’d planned to stop. The cooks prepared the evening meal while everyone else pitched tents. Meira was so tired she crawled into her tent as soon as she’d forced down the dry biscuits and bland soup.

  Sleep was quick, but not deep. Meira kept reaching for Ravid and waking in a panic when she couldn’t find him. When her heart slowed and she drowsed again, her dreams were full of booming weapons, flashes of blasting powder, and billows of smoke. Cries for help dragged her from her pallet and she wandered the camp among strewn and bloody bodies, only to wake with a start, alone in her cold, dark tent. For what seemed like hours she lay awake, staring into the darkness, reviewing the plans for the battle over and over in her mind. When she finally sank into sleep, she was roused far too soon by urgent voices calling the camp to breakfast and back to the road.

  Again she spent most of the day riding beside Elkan. From his haggard look and the way he kept nodding off and jerking awake, he hadn’t slept well, either. At regular intervals he and Master Ferin opened windows onto each other and briefly conversed. The northern force remained right on schedule. Nirre appeared with a chatty note from Josiah in her message tube. Elkan jotted a reply and sent her back.

  They made good time during the morning, so Elkan allowed them a generous midday break. Meira struggled to keep her eyes open during the meal. Afterwards she found a shady patch of grass away from the main crowd and curled up for a nap.

  Something lovely and soft stroked her hair and pressed into her cheek. She leaned into it with a sigh, wanting the touch to continue to the rest of her body. Instead Elkan’s voice said softly, “Wake up. Time to get back on the road.”

  She opened her eyes to find him gazing at her. His fingers caressed her cheekbone and slid down to trace her jawline.

  She reached to touch his face in return. His skin was smooth and warm against her palm. Her hand roamed into his hair, which was even silkier than she’d imagined. She cupped the back of his neck and tried to draw him to her.

  He pulled away, his fingers leaving her face to grasp her hand and gently but firmly disengage it. “Come on. Everyone’s getting mounted up. We need to hurry if we don’t want them to leave us behind.”

  She swallowed disappointment and let him help her to her feet. His hands were polite and impersonal, not straying beyond what was necessary to support her. She badly wanted to step close, wrap her arms around him, and press her body against the length of his, but she didn’t. He was right. They needed to get back on the road. They had to be ready to lead the people of Tevenar into battle tomorrow. The war wasn’t going to wait while she and Elkan spent a sweet lazy afternoon loving each other the way she’d wanted since she first met him.

  The way he’d steadfastly refused to consider. She sighed. “All right. Let’s go.”

  For the rest of the day she tried to forget that moment when they’d gazed into each other’s eyes and touched with such exquisite intimacy. But she couldn’t. Smash it, he felt the currents between them as strongly as she did. Why did he keep turning away?

  One or both of them might die tomorrow. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing forever the chance to love him.

  They reached their second camp, less than an hour’s journey from Elathir. This time they concealed their tents among the trees. Ramunnan scouts probably wouldn’t come out this far, but better not to risk being seen.

  Elkan helped Meira pitch her tent. She returned the favor. He’d chosen a spot far from the central fire, tucked behind a screen of bushes. As much privacy as he could get surrounded by thousands of people.

  She watched him while they ate, wondering if she dared carry out the plan that had come to her during the long afternoon’s ride. His manner toward her was no different than it had ever been, warm and relaxed the way he would be with any close friend. If he burned for her the way she did for him, he was very good at hiding it.

  For a while after the meal everyone lingered by the fire, talking and drinking and occasionally breaking into song. The mood was cheerful, but the air was thick with unspoken tension. Meira saw the same dread she felt mirrored in every face, though no one admitted to it. She wondered how many of them would live to see another sunset.

  Before long the gathering broke up and everyone retreated to their tents. Here and there Meira saw people exchange glances or quiet words and withdraw to a tent together. Apparently she wasn’t the only one who didn’t want to face another cold sleepless night alone.

  She lay down on her pallet without changing into her nightclothes. She closed her eyes, listening to the sounds of the camp gradually settle into quiet. Maybe she would fall asleep and wake in the morning, her chance lost. Maybe it would be better if she did.

  Sleep refused to come. At last she swallowed hard and sat up. If Elkan refused her, he’d do it as kindly and gently as he always had before. She’d rather suffer the humiliation of being sent away than pass up what might be her final opportunity.

  She emerged from her tent and straightened, taking a deep breath of the cool night air. She set out across the camp, placing her feet carefully. The moon was bright above the trees, only a few days from full, but the shadows were dark.

  Her steps slowed as she neared Elkan’s tent. Her heart raced. She could still turn around and go back. He’d never know she’d been here.

  A lithe shadow slid toward her, two pale disks glowing. She froze. “Tobi?” she whispered.

  The mountain cat advanced until she was almost touching Meira. Hot breath gusted across Meira’s hand.

  Was she warning Meira away? Maybe Elkan thought it would be less embarrassing for both of them if his familiar delivered his rejection. Or maybe Tobi was acting at the Mother’s bidding, protecting her wizard from distraction. Elkan had said wizards weren’t forbidden to love and marry, but that he considered it unwise. His own bitter experience had led him to that conclusion. Maybe Tobi wanted to keep her partner safe from further heartbreak.

  Tobi blinked at her. She thrust her broad head under Meira’s hand for a moment, twined around her legs, and padded
away, her huge paws carrying her silently into the forest.

  Meira clenched her hand into a fist, then opened it. Elkan’s tent lay before her, unguarded.

  She crept forward and reached for the flap.

  * * *

  Elkan stared at the pale canvas. They’d wanted to give him one of the big tents, but he’d insisted on this small, low one instead. It had ample space for his needs, especially now that Tobi had left to roam the night woods.

  Not that long ago he’d shared a tent like this with Josiah as they journeyed around Tevenar. Many nights in the mountains he’d lain awake and listened to Meira murmuring or singing to Ravid in her tent a handful of steps away. Then, like now, he’d ached to leave his tent and go to hers. To lie down beside her and wrap his arms around her and hold her through the night.

  Back then, it had been an impossible fantasy. Tonight the torment was sharper because it would be so easy to act on his desire. Both Ravid and Josiah were far away. Meira would welcome him. She’d told him so months ago, and the way she’d looked at him and touched him this afternoon had made it clear she still felt the same way.

  So why didn’t he? What kept him here, lonely and miserable, when a short walk across camp promised warmth and companionship and pleasure? Why did he feel compelled to reject Meira’s advances time after time, when he’d loved her almost from the moment they’d met?

  Fear, obviously. He told himself he feared hurting her. But to be brutally honest, what he really feared was his own pain. He never wanted to feel again the nightmarish haze of grief and fury and bitterness and agony that had crashed over him when Liand had betrayed him. It had been far worse than anything he’d believed possible. Death would have been a welcome release. The thought of going through the same thing again terrified him.

  He’d do anything to escape that fate. He’d wall off his emotions behind barriers of brick and stone and iron. He’d turn and run and never look back. He’d make Tobi force his body into numbness. He’d shove Meira away, even if doing so caused her the very misery he sought to avoid.