The Wizards' War

by Angela Holder

  Elkan’s gaze shied away from her right arm hanging limp at her side. The sight of her bluntly ending wrist sent grief and agony stabbing through his gut. But he couldn’t let Meira believe he felt the disgust she’d accused him of, so he made himself look with a gentle, accepting expression, ruthlessly concealing his pain.

  He might as well not have bothered, because she resolutely ignored him, taking up a position as far away as possible before turning to smile at the throng of fighters.

  Ice gripped his heart, spreading until his whole body felt frozen. He turned and pushed open the big double doors of the Mother’s Hall, setting off a renewed burst of cheers. The huge space within looked the same as always. Golden rays of sunset slanted down from the many small windows at the top of the room, evoking the Mother’s presence. She’d walked down just such slanting rays of light to answer Gurion Thricebound’s plea, and to name new apprentices to the Guildmaster every year since. Usually the sight filled him with an overwhelming sense of peace and joy. The wizards crowding in behind him would take the rays as a sign of the Mother’s blessing on their victory. But the shimmering beams left Elkan empty and cold. He’d lost too much today. He couldn’t imagine ever feeling peace or joy again.

  The leaders poured in behind him, then the wizards. Soon voices rang up and down the corridors, exclaiming in disgust or delight at each new discovery of what the Ramunnans had altered or left untouched. Elkan longed to seek out his own familiar spaces, but even if the Ramunnans had left them alone, they held only grief for him. The Guildmaster’s office was no longer Dabiel’s, and it had never been his. It belonged to Hanion, and when the Guildmaster returned Elkan would have to surrender authority to him. Elkan’s own room held the bed he’d invited Meira to share. He wouldn’t be able to look at it without seeing the empty space where she would never be.

  At least he had plenty of work to keep him busy. Dozens of people clamored to make reports or requests. He focused on giving the orders and making the decisions necessary to smoothly transition Elathir back to Tevenaran rule. Not that it could actually be anything like smooth, of course, but he welcomed the minor disasters and noisy conflicts as opportunities to devote his attention to tasks both useful and distracting.

  An hour later, when he’d just finished telling the owner of a building that had been appropriated by the Ramunnans for an armory and destroyed by a Tevenaran weapon that he would have to apply to the Council for funds to rebuild it, Hadara approached him. “Elkan, there’s something you need to see.”

  He couldn’t forget the way she’d sent him away from Meira, although he knew she’d only done what she believed a patient needed. “Open a window.”

  She shook her head. Her expression was grim. “I think you’ll want to be there in person. It’s not far.” She stroked Whiskers with a slightly trembling hand.

  For Hadara, that was the equivalent of hysterical sobs. Foreboding clutched Elkan’s stomach, but he said, “All right,” and followed her outside.

  At the bottom of the steps she turned left, toward the river and the ruins of the destroyed bridge. They walked several blocks, Elkan growing more and more impatient. Finally she gestured. “There,” she said, her voice breaking.

  Across the street, in a small park, a platform had been constructed out of raw yellow boards, nearly as high as Elkan was tall. Above it rose a wooden framework supporting a dozen dangling ropes. Elkan had seen similar structures in Ramunna, but it took a few moments for his mind to register that the bundles hanging from the ropes were bodies.

  Eleven humans. One dog.

  “No,” he said, and swallowed hard.

  The Ramunnans had hung Savir at the far end of the line of nooses from his familiar. Right to the last they’d made sure the two wouldn’t be able to touch and use the Mother’s power to save themselves and their fellow condemned.

  He put a hand on Tobi’s head and extended the other. Aching nothingness filled their senses where Savir’s life had once been. Judging by the degree to which the residual life of his body’s tissues had faded and the infinitesimal sparkles of decay had spread, he’d been dead for hours.

  Without Elkan needing to say anything, Tobi shifted the Mother’s power to lift Savir’s body and remove the rope. He’d died quickly from a broken neck, Elkan noted, not slowly by strangulation. The knowledge gave him little comfort. Tobi guided the stiffened body away from the platform and laid it in a patch of green grass beneath a spreading tree.

  They turned their attention to Music’s body. The hound’s speckled fur was streaked with blood from a wound on his head. The Ramunnans who’d captured the pair must have slipped up behind and clubbed him, rendering him unconscious and unable to use the Mother’s power to defend himself and his bondmate. While Hadara and Whiskers worked to free the other victims from their nooses, Tobi and Elkan settled Music gently beside Savir.

  Elkan knelt beside them. Savir had been his friend since he’d arrived at the Mother’s Hall the year after Elkan, still smelling of his family’s tannery. He’d been surly and rude, alienating the other apprentices. Master Dabiel had told Elkan that as the Guildmaster’s apprentice, it was his responsibility to make the prickly newcomer welcome. He hadn’t wanted to, but he’d idolized his beloved master and would have done anything to please her, so he’d resolutely sat by Savir at every meal, enduring his alternating silence and insults and trying to engage him in conversation.

  After a week the younger boy softened and began to answer some of Elkan’s questions. After another, it became obvious to Elkan why the Mother had chosen him as a wizard. Savir cared. Too much, at times. That’s why it had been so hard on him when other children mocked him for the clinging odor of his parents’ craft. He’d developed a hostile attitude to protect himself from further pain. But he was always quick to champion anyone who was weak or hurt or subject to abuse of any sort. He had a wonderfully gentle way with patients, especially frightened children. And he did his full share of the work assigned to the unbonded apprentices without complaint, although he was swift to criticize if others shirked.

  As Savir gradually came to trust Elkan and the other wizard apprentices, his whole demeanor changed. By the end of his first year he was relaxed and cheerful, and he and Elkan were fast friends. The transformation was complete when he bonded with Music at the beginning of his fourth year and could pour his passion for justice and compassion for the weak into serving the Mother’s children with her power.

  In Ramunna, when Elkan had still hoped to expand the Wizards’ Guild throughout Ravanetha, Savir had been one of the wizards he’d planned to ask to cross the ocean and serve as master to the young Ramunnans the Mother was choosing. He would have loved the challenge of ministering to the vast need and been flexible enough to adapt to the strange culture and conflicting demands. He would have understood and agreed with Elkan’s ambitious visions for the future of the Wizards’ Guild.

  Looking at the cold bodies on the ground was like looking at the death of those dreams. Savir would never know the thrill of seeing exotic new places, never experience the joy of bringing the Mother’s power to those who’d given up hope of healing, never strive to bring the justice he loved to a people who knew only tyranny.

  Neither would anyone else.

  It was easy to picture Savir and Music together in the Mother’s presence, but that didn’t lessen his grief. If Elkan hadn’t asked them to stay behind in Elathir, they would have returned to the Mother in her time, after fully enjoying her gift of life. Instead they, along with hundreds, maybe even thousands, of others, had been torn from bodies still rich with potential years. All that waste piled on top of him until he could barely breathe, crushed beneath the corpses.

  Hadara’s hand fell on his shoulder. “What are we going to do with the bodies? These, and all the rest? If they remain in the streets very long we’re going to be dealing with contaminated water and disease.”

  The problem was gruesome, but it was practical. “I’ve got people commandee
ring wagons. Master Sabanan has donated several fields on the outskirts of the city to be used as cemeteries. Everyone who isn’t working on something even more vital will be assigned to transport the bodies. The leaders of each group will help identify their fighters. I think we have enough labor available to give each Tevenaran an individual grave. The Ramunnans can be buried in mass graves, unless the Matriarch wants to bargain for their return.”

  He almost wished she would. He would take great satisfaction in dumping a pile of rotting corpses at her feet. Maybe that would finally bring home to her the terrible cost of her actions.

  Hadara frowned. “Are you sure?”

  Elkan climbed to his feet. “Graves are for the living, not the dead. The Ramunnans’ families won’t be able to visit their resting places, whether they’re separate or together. I see no reason we shouldn’t deal with them in the way that’s easiest for us.”

  He could tell she didn’t fully approve, but she inclined her head. “Do you know if any other wizards or familiars were killed?”

  “Only one in our column. A journeyman from Thedan lost her familiar, a deer, when one of the weapons’ shots got through.” Wizard and familiar had been touching, but their attention had lapsed for an instant, and the iron ball had killed Wildflower instantly. “Jaron’s column lost a pair. The other columns will report as they get in. I’m sure there will be some losses.” He took a deep breath. “We opened a window and watched what happened when the first two columns were overwhelmed. Most of the wizards surrendered when it became clear they were too outnumbered to prevail. But six wizards and five familiars were killed in the first column, and two wizards and nine familiars in the second.”

  Hadara’s eyes widened. “Oh, no. Who?”

  She flinched at each of the names. Elkan was too tired and numb to soften the bare recital or offer her words of shared grief. The Wizards’ Guild was like an extended family, the deaths like those of siblings or cousins, but every family and guild in Tevenar had lost members today. Those who bore the Mother’s power had no right to expect an exception. “The rest were separated, bound, and taken to the docks. They’re probably being loaded on the Armada ships now, along with the rest of the Tevenaran prisoners. I’m going to negotiate a trade for the Ramunnans we captured, but it’s going to have to wait until I’m sure the fighting is over.”

  He turned to the bodies that Hadara and Whiskers had laid beside Savir and Music. “I suspect these are some of those who helped him organize the resistance. Savir never included names in his messages, in case they were intercepted, but I know he had a whole network.” He should open a window and trace what had happened, learn names so he could notify their next of kin, but he couldn’t face that right now. He’d do it later, or have someone else take care of it. “I suppose they were caught after they destroyed the bridge.” More deaths to his account. He’d told Savir to go forward with his plan.

  “You’re probably right. Whiskers and I will check. You go back to the Hall and take care of matters there. We’ll let you know anything significant we discover.”

  “Thank you.” He wanted to ask her about Meira, how she was coping, if she’d changed her mind, but he couldn’t face that, either. When and if Meira decided she wanted to talk, she knew where to find him.

  He turned and trudged back to the Hall, grateful for Tobi’s uncharacteristic silence. He couldn’t handle her juvenile teasing right now, and the last thing he wanted was to quarrel with his familiar when he most needed her support. She was giving him that, although not with the solid assurance Sar would have provided.

  Jaron met him at the door, relief on his face. “There you are. No one knew where you’d gone. I was about to get one of the wizards to trace you.”

  “What’s wrong?” Smash it, hadn’t he dealt with enough today?

  “Nothing, but a Ramunnan messenger arrived a few minutes ago. He says he’s from the Matriarch, and he insisted on speaking to you personally. I put him in the Guildmaster’s office and told him you’d be there shortly.”

  So Verinna had gotten his message and wanted to negotiate. “Good work.” He headed across the Hall.

  Jaron tagged behind. “Do you want to take someone in with you? He had one of those white flags, but I still don’t trust him.”

  “I should be fine with just Tobi, but if you hear a commotion, come check.” Jaron didn’t look happy, but Elkan put his hand on Tobi’s head, pushed through the office door, and closed it behind him.

  The messenger was wearing an Armada officer’s uniform, one of the higher authority levels judging by the amount of decoration. He stood at attention in the middle of the room, holding a small white flag on a short pole. Elkan moved to take a seat behind the heavy oak desk and gestured for the messenger to take one of the chairs that faced it. Tobi crouched at his feet, pressed against his leg. “I understand you have a message for me from the Matriarch.”

  The man nodded. “Commodore Benarre informed her majesty that you hold her son, Lieutenant Tenorran Fovarre. She wishes to negotiate for his return. In addition, she proposes returning all Tevenaran captives in exchange for all Ramunnan prisoners.”

  Elkan leaned forward, propping his elbows on the desk and clasping his hands. “I’m willing to entertain that proposal, as long as it’s accompanied by a complete and permanent cessation of hostilities. The Matriarch will have to concede that her invasion has failed and withdraw any claim on Tevenar. And she’ll have to agree that when the exchange of prisoners is complete she’ll take all her ships, leave Tevenaran waters, and never return.”

  To his surprise, the man nodded readily. “That’s her intention. However, before the Armada departs she wishes to purchase supplies for her ships at prices she’s confident you’ll find generous. Including large quantities of the substance you refer to as ‘blasting powder.’”

  Elkan narrowed his eyes. The request made sense in light of the information Vigorre had sent. Tevenar could easily afford to surrender the many barrels of powder that remained in the wagons parked outside the Hall. Once the Ramunnans left they wouldn’t need it, and the mill could produce more if they did.

  Food might be more problematic, because stores remained low. But the farmers could return to their fields, and in a few months they’d once again have more than enough to feed all of Tevenar. He’d sell the last of the Matriarch’s shipments of food back to her and let the people of Tevenar tighten their belts until Harvest if that’s what was necessary to get rid of her. “I’m not opposed to such dealings. Once all Tevenarans are returned safely we can negotiate specific terms.”

  The messenger nodded slowly. “I believe that will satisfy the Matriarch.”

  Elkan’s heart beat faster. Could it really be this easy? Could he trust Verinna to give up Tevenar in exchange for so little? He doubted he could, but if this was a trap, he couldn’t see it. She probably just wanted to get her son back. Once he was safe she’d spring some surprise.

  Whatever it was, he’d deal with it then. After Josiah and the other wizards, as well as the rest of the captive Tevenarans, were safe.

  “In addition to those we captured today, we took three hundred prisoners in Korisan. I’ll have to send for them, which will take at least four days. But I must insist all Tevenaran prisoners be returned immediately.” Elkan held his breath. How badly did the Matriarch want her son? He’d work out something if she refused, but he hated the thought of any Tevenarans remaining captive a minute longer than necessary.

  The Ramunnan inclined his head. “I will tell the Matriarch. I doubt the issue will cause her to reject your proposed terms, although she may require some concession in return. Where and when would you like the exchange of prisoners to take place?”

  Elkan fought to hide his relief. It would be getting dark soon, but he wasn’t going to consign Josiah to a whole night of captivity. And it would be far simpler to feed and house their own people than enemies who must be constantly guarded. “At the docks, three hours from now.” That would give
him time to meet with the leaders of all the columns and make sure every prisoner they’d taken was accounted for, including those from across the river. “We’ll exchange small groups by turns. I will take personal responsibility for Tenorran and return him when windows confirm that all Tevenarans who were captured have been released. Including my apprentice, Josiah Potterkin Wizard.” He held up a hand to forestall the messenger’s reply. “Also Kevessa Navorre, Borlen Tironna, and Vigorre Rothen. And any other Ramunnan wizards she may have with her.”

  The messenger was silent for a long moment, looking at him. Finally he spoke. “I will convey that stipulation to the Matriarch. She may or may not accept it.”

  “If she doesn’t, the deal is off.” He feared pushing Verinna too far, but if he was going to restore the Law of Isolation it had to be total. Maybe he could speak to the Mother and persuade her to once again require any familiar who passed the boundary stones to break their bond, but until then it was up to him to enforce the restrictions. “Tenorran stays in my custody until she hands them over.”

  After another long pause, the messenger nodded. “I will so inform her.”

  Elkan stood up. “I believe our business here is concluded. Return to the Matriarch with my reply. If she wishes further discussion, she can meet me at the docks in three hours.”

  The messenger rose, shifting his flag from his lap to his shoulder. “I will inform her of that, also.”

  Elkan held the door for him, then followed him out. He accompanied the messenger across the Hall and out the front door, watching until he was sure he was headed toward the docks where presumably the boat that had brought him waited.

  When he stepped back inside, Jaron was waiting. “What did he say?”

  Elkan raised his voice so everyone nearby could hear. “The Matriarch wants to exchange prisoners, and she’s willing to relinquish her claim on Tevenar. The war is over.”

  They all gaped at him. Elkan grinned. The expression felt odd on his face, when his heart was still so heavy, but it was real. “Let’s get to work. We’ve got a lot to do in the next three hours.”