His words hit Elkan like a frigid wave. “My apprentice?” he choked out.
“Josiah, I believe his name is. I’ve heard he’s a clever young man, although it doesn’t strike me as clever for a wizard to leave his familiar behind in the middle of a battle.”
“You don’t have Sar? Where is he?” Elkan fought to control his sick terror at the thought of Josiah and Sar in danger.
Benarre shrugged again. “I don’t know, but I doubt a donkey can swim all the way out to our fleet. So if you want your apprentice back safely, I suggest you treat your prisoners well. And I’d advise against attacking our ships once the truce is over. You can’t be sure which one he’s on.”
Rage surged over Elkan. He took a step toward Benarre. Tobi bared her teeth and snarled. “If Josiah is harmed in any way, you’ll regret it. We hold the Matriarch’s son. Whatever happens to Josiah, Tenorran Fovarre will suffer the same.”
“Tenorran is dead.” Benarre’s eyes narrowed. “Although they told me you died with him. When reports came that you were still fighting, I had to assume you escaped the explosion somehow. You saved him as well?”
“That’s right. I won’t be so generous next time. I doubt the Matriarch will be pleased if you let him die.”
Benarre scowled. “He betrayed the Secret. Death is his duty.”
“Tell that to his mother.” Elkan felt queasy. Had he really just threatened to kill a man in cold blood? What was this war doing to him? He couldn’t even regret it. If the threat kept Benarre from hurting Josiah, he’d consider it well justified. If carrying it out could save Josiah’s life…
Benarre huffed. “I need to start preparing my men. I suggest you do the same, if you want this truce to hold.” He turned his back and strode away.
Elkan walked numbly back toward the column. Tobi pressed against him. He could feel her trembling. Elkan, please be careful. You know I can’t hurt someone unless they’re an immediate danger.
I’d never ask you to, he assured her.
Even if you did it without the Mother’s power, even if you told someone else to do it, if I saw it, or found out about it, I think I might have to… She shuddered hard. I don’t even want to think about it.
Neither did Elkan. Don’t worry.
He couldn’t break the Law. He couldn’t risk forcing Tobi to break their bond. Wizardry was his life. But he couldn’t imagine letting Josiah die if there was any way to save him.
He would just have to make sure the situation never arose. When the Matriarch’s ship arrived, he would demand to negotiate with her personally. Surely she’d be willing to trade Josiah for her son. No mother could be totally indifferent to her child’s fate, no matter how distant their relationship.
Meanwhile, as soon as he’d ordered the Tevenaran forces to allow the Ramunnans to retreat, he needed to locate Sar and make sure the donkey was safe. What in the Mother’s name had Josiah been thinking, allowing himself to be separated from his familiar? When his apprentice was safely back, Josiah was going to get a blistering reprimand, and then Elkan was going to assign him every case of vomiting, diarrhea, and infected boils that came into the Hall for a month.
Thirty-Nine
Tesi leaned on the ship’s rail and studied the Tevenaran coast. The buildings of Elathir made a jagged line on the horizon. She pointed to the blocky rectangle in the center. “Do you think that is the Mother’s Hall?”
Vigorre didn’t respond. He’d been scanning the sky all day, but Tharanirre had not appeared. Tesi studied his profile, head tilted back, dark eyes searching, short wavy hair swept by the wind. She felt acute empathy for the lines of worry graven into his forehead and the tension knotting his shoulders. She would undoubtedly display the same effects if Mimi were to travel beyond her mind’s reach and remain absent for five days. Especially if the time for her return came and she did not appear, as Tharanirre had not.
She considered offering to use the Art to soothe Vigorre’s agitated qi and relax his tight muscles. She could do so without her needles; pressure from her fingertips precisely applied to the correct points was nearly as effective for this sort of problem. But the thought of touching the skin of Vigorre’s neck and back stirred feelings highly inappropriate between a practitioner and a patient. Feelings that had intruded all too often of late.
It was strictly forbidden to use the Art to obtain personal pleasure from physical contact with a subject who had consented only to therapeutic treatments. But it was permissible to use it to enhance relations between mutually agreeable partners. Tesi had never previously had the opportunity nor any great desire to use it thus. But in the past few days she’d found her imagination straying in ways both intriguing and disturbing. Could she teach Vigorre to sense and manipulate the flow of qi within a human body? Would he wish to learn from her?
Abruptly Vigorre’s eyes went wide and his body tensed. A joyous smile illuminated his face. Tesi swallowed hard, her heart aching at the beauty of his expression. He closed his eyes and his features fell into the look of intense concentration typical for a wizard communicating with his familiar. Tesi edged away to allow Vigorre and Nirre their privacy.
Mimi rose from the skewed patch of sunlight where she’d been napping and came to twine around Tesi’s ankles. Nirre’s back?
She is close enough for Vigorre to hear. Tesi searched the sky. A black dot caught her eye. It grew larger as she watched, quickly resolving into a familiar shape. There.
Mimi leaped to the rail and balanced effortlessly, peering at the eagle. Ask Vigorre what news she brings.
He will tell us in his own time. Have patience.
Mimi turned up her nose at that. Tesi stroked her. Patience was not her familiar’s greatest virtue. Nor was it Tesi’s. She should welcome this opportunity to practice her lacking skill.
A dark dot appeared in the sky, rapidly growing as it sped toward the ship. Vigorre opened his eyes and put out his arm. Nirre swooped down and landed on the thick leather brace he had donned in anticipation of her return. Vigorre stroked her head and the eagle leaned into his touch.
Mimi pawed at Tesi’s hand where it clenched the rail. Tesi turned away from the reunited pair and concentrated on petting the cat.
Vigorre’s voice called her attention back. “She says there was a battle this morning. Master Elkan led the Tevenarans into the city. Nirre carried messages for a while, but the smoke got too thick for her to breathe or see, so she retreated into the forest. A couple hours ago the fighting died down and she was able to scout more. She says the Ramunnans got on their ships and sailed about a mile from shore. We can probably see them from here.”
He squinted ahead, and Tesi did the same. A cluster of masts poked up not far ahead. “We will reach them before sunset, I think.”
“I expect you’re right.” Vigorre uncapped the message tube on Nirre’s leg. “Empty.” He unbuckled the leather straps and pulled the tube off. Nirre shook her leg and preened her disturbed feathers. “She says Elkan and Josiah took good care of her, but she’s glad to be back.”
“I am sure she is.” Tesi glanced back at the city. “Perhaps we should go astern with Borlen and Kevessa. We can add our strength to the wind so we may reach the rest of the Armada more swiftly. And you can relay what Nirre knows so we may be prepared to help Master Elkan and the other wizards.”
“Good idea.” Vigorre shifted Nirre to his shoulder and reached for her hand. Tesi wanted to let him take it so much the strength of her desire frightened her and she pulled away.
Vigorre drew back, biting his lip. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“I know.” Tesi scooped up Mimi and cuddled the cat to her chest.
“You’ve been a big help while Nirre’s been gone. I don’t know how I would have gotten through it without you to listen to my complaining and keep me company, and our language lessons to keep me busy. Thank you.” He stroked Nirre with jerky motions, then belatedly remembered to fold his hands into the position appropriate for offering grati
tude to an equal.
“You are welcome. I am glad I was able to provide some small comfort.” Tesi shaped her hands into the proper response. Vigorre had gotten quite adept with many of the basic gestures, although he still lacked nuance. She’d enjoyed communicating with him that way far more than she’d expected. It was a private language the two of them shared, incomprehensible to anyone else. “I would be pleased to continue our lessons in the future.”
“So would I. When we can.” He looked toward the waiting ships. “I have a feeling we’re going to be too busy for a while.”
“Yes.” Tesi took a deep breath, set Mimi down, and extended her hand. She carefully blended the Ramunnan words together in the way he insisted was correct, but which still felt terribly sloppy. “Let’s go tell the others. We’ll need to think about what might happen and make plans for how to respond.”
He glanced down at her offered hand, then up at her face. For a moment she was afraid he would refuse, but he reached out and wrapped his fingers around hers. His hand felt warm and strong. His grip was pleasantly firm. He grinned at her. “Very nice use of contractions. I bet Borlen will have some good guesses about what the Matriarch might do. And Kevessa’s going to be glad to hear Josiah’s all right. She hides it well, but I know she’s been worried about him.”
“I have noticed the same thing.” She gave him a sideways look. “Can there be any future for them, do you think? When she is from Ramunna and he is—he’s—from Tevenar?”
“They’re both wizards.” Vigorre’s hand tightened a fraction in hers. “Somehow other differences don’t seem terribly important next to that.”
Tesi’s heart gave a little stutter. She returned the pressure of Vigorre’s hand and gave him a tentative smile. “No, they do not.”
“Don’t,” he corrected softly, then turned and tugged her after him. Hand in hand they walked toward the stern of the ship.
* * *
Josiah rolled over on the bare floor, trying to find a position that didn’t numb some portion of his anatomy. It had seemed like a good idea to make the best of the long empty hours by sleeping, but it hadn’t worked out. He’d dozed a little here and there, but mostly his thoughts were far too busy to let him rest. He went over and over the events that had led to his capture, trying to figure out how he could have avoided it. He couldn’t see a way, unless he’d abandoned the idea of crossing the river altogether, and he would never have done that.
Occasionally he tried to reach Sar with his thoughts, with no luck. He hoped his familiar would stay with the other wizards and not try to find him. He expected Sar was sensible enough to see that he had no hope of getting close enough to talk to Josiah, let alone making it out to the ship and helping him escape. But still, every time his searching mind met only silence he had to fight crushing disappointment and increasingly miserable loneliness.
The rest of the time he worried about how the battle was going. The rumbles from the weapons continued intermittently, but he didn’t know whether that was good or bad. It was possible the Ramunnans had taken some of their weapons off their ships and were shooting back at the Tevenarans. They couldn’t be too worried about keeping their Secret, now that it wasn’t a secret anymore.
Eventually the rumbles stopped and didn’t start again. The deep gloom and feeble lamplight gave him no clue as to how much time had passed, but he thought it must be sometime around midafternoon. He was starving and desperately thirsty, but no one brought him anything, even when he yelled and banged on the door and walls. He resisted using the bucket in the corner as long as possible, but at last he had no choice. After that the cell was smelly as well as dark and stuffy and damp.
A while later faint noise from above reached him. There was shouting and banging and lots of footsteps from people moving around. The ship lurched and swayed, then settled into smooth rolls, subtly different from its earlier rocking. Based on his experience on the Verinna and Ozor’s ship, he guessed they’d pulled up the anchor and were moving under sail. He wondered where they were going. Surely not all the way back to Ramunna? A bolt of panic shot through him at the thought of the whole width of the ocean between him and Sar.
He was scouring the cell for any loose boards or other weak spots for about the fiftieth time when footsteps sounded outside. Keys rattled in the lock. Josiah pressed himself against the back wall. He’d fight if he had to, but he doubted the Ramunnans would try to harm him. Elkan wouldn’t be happy with them if he got hurt.
Unless the Tevenarans had lost, Elkan was dead, and they were about to dispose of a no-longer-useful hostage.
Josiah’s heart pounded as the door slammed open. A Ramunnan soldier strode in and grabbed his arm. “Come with me, boy.”
At least he hadn’t thrust a sword through Josiah’s heart. Josiah went where the soldier took him without trying to resist, even when the man momentarily released him to go up the steep ladders. He considered making a break for it on the last ladder up to the deck, but another Ramunnan, this one an officer, waited at the top, staring down at Josiah coldly. “Hurry up. The Commodore’s waiting.”
The two men hustled Josiah to the bow, where Benarre was standing, looking toward another Armada ship they were rapidly approaching. Beyond it stretched a fleet of at least forty ships. Josiah gulped. Their ten weapons seemed a feeble defense against a combined force of nearly eighty ships, each with its own weapon.
Benarre looked Josiah up and down. “You’re the wizard Elkan’s apprentice?”
“Yes, sir.” Josiah raised his chin. “Josiah Potterkin Wizard.”
“Hmmph.” Benarre scowled. “Where’s your animal?”
Josiah scowled back. “My familiar is with the other wizards and fighters on the north shore of the river. I was trying to find a way across when a Tevenaran traitor caught me.”
For a moment Benarre’s face showed satisfaction. “Blowing up that bridge ended up hurting you more than us, didn’t it? Splitting your forces was a beginner’s mistake.”
“Maybe,” Josiah dared retort, “but you’re here instead of the Mother’s Hall, so Elkan must have beaten you anyway.”
“Not for long.” Benarre looked much too confident for Josiah’s comfort. He nodded toward the approaching fleet. “The only reason we didn’t crush you was because you outnumbered us five to one. Now look what’s arrived to balance the account.”
Josiah forced a laugh. “We knew they were coming. Why do you think we attacked you when we did? And you know what else? They’re not here to help you. They’re here to take you back to Ramunna. Because the Marvannans defeated them and took your city.”
Benarre blinked at Josiah. Then he jerked around to stare at the approaching ships. At length he turned back with an air of contemptuous unconcern, although it seemed strained to Josiah. “Bluffing is useless. There’s no way you could know that.”
“I’m not bluffing. The Matriarch is on that ship. The Marvannans almost assassinated her, but Vigorre and the other Ramunnan wizards helped her escape. Vigorre’s familiar is an eagle; she brought us a message.” It didn’t really matter if Josiah persuaded Benarre. As soon as they reached the other ships he’d learn the truth. But it was fun to shock him. His expression was still aloof, but his ears were turning red.
“Obviously the Matriarch is on the ship,” Benarre said. “Her flag is flying on the mainmast.”
“It is?” Josiah peered at the peak of the other ship’s tallest mast in interest, comparing the banner there to the ones on the other ships, and craning around to glimpse the mast of the ship he was on. “Huh. Look at that. The bird and pointy shape are green on a gold background, when all the others are gold on green. That means the Matriarch is there?”
Benarre didn’t answer, but it didn’t matter, because the ships were close enough that the sailors were shouting back and forth. Both ships maneuvered until the crews could toss ropes across the gap and draw them together.
The Matriarch stood on the deck, dressed in her full regal finery, surro
unded by a few courtiers and a lot of Armada officers. Josiah spotted Borlen first, at the edge of the group, Shadow draped around his shoulders. Vigorre stood nearby with Tharanirre on his arm. Beside him stood a woman Josiah vaguely recognized. Wasn’t she one of the Girodan healers from the tent show? Maybe she was the fourth wizard Vigorre’s message had mentioned. She was holding a cat, but there was no way to tell if it was a familiar or just a pet.
She only held Josiah’s interest for a moment, though, because he still hadn’t spotted the person he most wanted to see. He searched the crowd until finally, on the other side of the Matriarch from the rest of the wizards, he saw her. Kevessa looked even more beautiful than he remembered. She was wearing a dress nearly as fancy as the Matriarch’s, and her hair was twisted into a more elaborate style than she’d worn while working in the Beggar’s Quarter, but what struck Josiah was the confident way she held herself and the instinctive way her hand went up to pet Nina, who perched on her shoulder. In the months since they’d parted she’d grown comfortable in her role as wizard. Whatever doubts Vigorre and Nirel had sown about Nina’s nature were long forgotten.
Her eyes swept over the people on the deck of the Adalla, moving past Josiah. She stiffened and jerked her gaze back, eyes going wide and mouth opening. Josiah grinned and waved at her. She broke into a brilliant smile and waved back. Josiah’s heart did a funny twitch and flop. He wanted to stare at that dazzling smile forever.
But it faded an instant later, as Kevessa looked at the soldiers guarding Josiah and searched for Sar without finding him. She tensed and put her hand firmly on Nina, raising the other. Josiah shook his head. Maybe all three—four?—of the wizards working together could free him, but there might not be any need, and besides, he wanted to hear what Benarre and the Matriarch would say. Kevessa frowned, but no gold light spilled from her hand, and she dropped it back to her side. She kept a firm grip on Nina with the other, though.
The sailors finished tying the two ships together. Benarre gestured to Josiah. “Come.”
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