The Wizards' War

by Angela Holder

  Elkan’s brow furrowed. “The Girodan healer with the needles?”

  “She’s a wizard, too. The Mother chose her not long before we left.”

  Elkan ran his hand through his hair. “Why didn’t Verinna turn her over?”

  “Because you said ‘any other Ramunnan wizards.’ And she needed to keep one of us to continue accelerating her pregnancy.”

  Elkan stiffened. “She’s pregnant again?”

  “You didn’t notice last night? We haven’t told her so, but this time it’s a girl. We sped up her growth so much during the voyage she’ll be born within a month.”

  Elkan stared into space, rubbing Tobi’s head. “Healthy?”

  “As far as we can tell.”

  He sighed. “At least she won’t demand help conceiving.” He shook his head. “I’ll speak to her about Tesi when she comes to negotiate this afternoon.” He rose and headed toward the door. “I’ve got just time enough before the midday meal to get you set up with masters. Josiah, you can work in the Hall while I’m with Verinna. There are hundreds of people wounded in the battle who haven’t been fully healed yet.”

  “Yes, sir,” Josiah muttered. As Kevessa started to follow Elkan out, he caught her arm. “Wait.”

  “What?” she asked, as Vigorre and Borlen and their familiars disappeared out the door.

  Josiah took a deep breath. “Kevessa…”

  He reached for her hands. Nina jumped from her arms to the floor as he took them and drew her close. Kevessa tingled all over at his touch. She’d longed for this moment ever since that first kiss they’d shared on the dock in Little Tevenar. All last evening she’d waited for him to make a move, but they’d never had enough privacy. Now at last the waiting was over. She stepped into his embrace and twined her arms around his neck as his mouth met hers.

  This was no quick peck as the other had been. His lips and tongue moved against hers in ways that felt amazing and woke deep responses everywhere in her body. She melted into the experience, letting him lead her deeper and deeper into sensation.

  Finally he pulled away, panting. “Dear Mother, Kevessa.”

  She raised a hand to his face, brushing a springy brown curl out of his eyes. “I’ve been thinking about you ever since you left.”

  His arms tightened around her waist. “Don’t go back to Ramunna. Even if Vigorre and Borlen do. Stay here in Tevenar with me.”

  The words were like a cold knife through her gut. “I…”

  He stroked her cheek, her neck, her shoulder, gently ruthless. “I know you don’t want to abandon your home. But I promise, it will be worth it.”

  She fought to resist the sweet seduction of his touch. “I thought you wanted to come back to Ramunna with me. You and Father and Nalini were going to work to discover new treatments together.”

  His hand hesitated. “I’d still like that. But you heard Elkan. He’ll never let me.”

  “Do you think he’s right?”

  “No. But once he makes up his mind there’s no changing it.”

  She sighed and pulled reluctantly away. “I guess neither of us has to decide right now. The Matriarch plans to stay here through the winter and launch her assault on Ramunna next spring.”

  “I don’t think Elkan will let her stay that long.”

  “Maybe not, but at a minimum she’ll be here long enough to resupply the Armada ships. Weeks, probably. Long enough for…” She licked her lips.

  “For what?” He watched her expectantly.

  The words came out in a rush. “For you to court me.”

  He swallowed. “Court you?”

  Kevessa’s face burned. “I mean, if you want to.”

  His eyes fell. “I do, but… I’m not allowed to stand up with someone until I make journeyman, and that’s almost four years. You shouldn’t have to wait that long.”

  She shrugged. “If you come to Ramunna, lots of people get married at eighteen or so. And Father would require at least a year’s betrothal.”

  Josiah shuddered, flashing her a wry grin. “You think your father would agree to let me marry you?”

  She grinned back. “He likes you, I promise. He’ll bluster and thunder, but eventually if he’s sure that’s what I want, he’ll give in.”

  He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “Is that what you want?”

  Her heart thudded, but she tossed her head, forcing her voice into casual tones. “I don’t know. That’s the purpose of courting. To decide if we want to marry each other.”

  “All right.” Josiah tilted his head. “Um… What exactly does courting involve in Ramunna?”

  That was easy to answer. Mama had been preparing her for years. “You would ask Father for permission to present your suit. If he granted it, you would call on me at least once a week. We would walk in the park or go riding or you would drive me around in your carriage. We might attend plays or musical performances together. Mama would invite you to dinner at our house, and your mother would invite me to dinner at yours. We would dance together at balls. If after several months we were both agreeable, your father would meet with mine to negotiate our betrothal.”

  He looked bemused. “Um, all right. That’s a lot more formal than we do it here.”

  “So what do you do?”

  He spread his hands. “Spend time together, mostly. Eat meals together, either at home or out at a restaurant. Go to Players’ Guild productions. Walk in the park, or around the market, or down by the river. Take a picnic lunch out to the country on Restday. But then, you know that one.”

  She smiled, remembering the time almost a year ago when they’d done just that. It faded when she recalled what had happened later that day, but she shook off the tragic memory. “I would enjoy all those things.”

  “All right.” He took a deep breath. “Would you like to sit with me at the midday meal?”

  “I would be delighted to.” She executed a very proper curtsy.

  “And at the evening meal?”

  She lifted her chin. “Perhaps. If I find your company at the midday meal sufficiently pleasant.”

  He rolled his eyes, but couldn’t suppress a grin. “I’ll have to make sure you do.” His grin took on a wicked gleam that set her heart racing. “Starting now.”

  He pulled her hard against him for another kiss. Kevessa drank in the wonder of it. Far too soon he stopped and cradled her head against his chest. “Was that pleasant?”

  “Very.” She listened to the thudding of his heart through the rough wool of his tunic.

  A hesitant voice broke into her mind. Ah, Kevessa? They’re calling for you.

  Smash it. Thanks, Nina. Kevessa pulled away. Faintly from the hallway outside the office she heard Vigorre’s voice. “I’ll go see if she stayed behind.”

  She brushed self-consciously at her hair and clothes. “Do I look all right?”

  “Beautiful,” Josiah told her. He tucked a stray strand of her hair back into a braid. “There.”

  She looked him over and rubbed a bit of her lip color off his cheek. “No one will ever know.”

  “Yes they will,” he said seriously. He took her hand and led her to the door.

  * * *

  Meira automatically reached for her belt pouch with her right hand, then cursed and groped for it with her left. The simple task of extracting a few coins, that she’d done a million times without a single thought, took her many long minutes of awkward fumbling. She blinked back angry tears and pressed the coins into the messenger’s hand. “Thank you.”

  The man looked at her uncertainly, then nodded and bid her farewell.

  Meira pulled the sheet of paper from where she’d tucked it under her arm and scanned it again. Elkan’s neatly penned words still refused her request for a meeting.

  He was avoiding her. There was no other explanation. This was the third time today he’d turned her down.

  She dropped the paper into the nearest refuse barrel and trudged across the square to the end of the line. The Cooks’ Guild
had spent all day setting up an even bigger and more elaborate temporary kitchen than they’d had in Korisan. Elkan had asked the fighters and support staff to remain in Elathir until the city was put back in order and the threat from the Ramunnans was ended. Judging from the elaborate pavilion going up in the park a few blocks north of the Hall and the lines of Armada soldiers bearing gear from the Matriarch’s ships, the second part was already accomplished. Apparently a truce was in place. Meira wondered if the Ramunnans could be trusted to abide by its terms.

  The first part would take much longer. The battle had left massive destruction in its wake. Her weapons and the Ramunnans’ bombs had smashed buildings, leaving streets choked with debris. The demolished bridge cut off the north side of the city from the south. A number of the pipes that brought water to the city’s many fountains or bore waste away from the baths and privies had been broken. Despite most of the day’s effort being spent on burials, dead bodies, both people and horses, still lay rotting in the summer heat.

  Meira had begun the day organizing the dispersal of the remaining blasting powder to widely scattered storage sites where the danger of explosion could be minimized. She’d set crews to constructing new cradles for the two crippled weapons. She’d worked with wizards to trace the movements of the Ramunnan bombing crews and sent members of the Blasters’ Guild to retrieve the explosive shells they’d left behind. Then she’d taken those of her people who’d started as miners to where their expertise with breaking and transporting stone would do the most good. They’d labored all afternoon to clear away the rubble of the first building the Ramunnans had brought down, which blocked a main thoroughfare. She’d had them use the salvaged shells to break the largest chunks of stone into pieces small enough to be loaded into wagons and hauled away. The second building only blocked a side street and could wait, but she intended to deal with it next.

  She wished she’d been able to do more of the physical work, instead of spending most of her time giving orders and watching to make sure tasks were done correctly. Then maybe she’d be exhausted enough to sleep tonight.

  Last night she’d slipped away from the celebrations that filled the Mother’s Hall and the streets surrounding it to the camp that had been moved closer to the outskirts of the city. She’d been enormously grateful to find that someone had set up her tent among the others. She’d fallen asleep as soon as she’d crawled between the blankets.

  Tonight she feared oblivion wouldn’t be so easy to come by.

  She reached the front of the line. A cook started to pass her a plate, but drew back before she could accept it. “Oh, dear. Let me get someone to help you.”

  Meira looked down to find her scarred stump extended toward the man. She gritted her teeth and yanked it back, forcing herself to reach with her good hand instead. “No, thank you. I’ve got it.”

  He made a lot of concerned noises, but she ignored him and took the plate with her left hand. It could manage this task well enough. She strode toward the tables, dividing her attention between watching where she was going and keeping an eye on the plate so it didn’t tilt and spill her meal in the dust.

  She claimed the first empty seat she saw. Strangers surrounded her, but she didn’t care. Feeding herself had become a clumsy, messy ordeal she had no desire to subject her friends to. At least the meal today was a soft casserole of grains and vegetables, with meat in bite-sized pieces. She hadn’t yet mastered using a knife one-handed, and she hated the humiliation of asking for help.

  By focusing intently she managed to transfer the majority of the food to her mouth, only spilling every third bite or so. Hunching over her plate prevented new stains from joining the ones her tunic had collected at midday. She was getting better. She had to be. She tried to believe that with sufficient practice her left hand would learn to function with something close to the dexterity she’d always taken for granted in her right. She was terrified it wouldn’t.

  A familiar voice raised in panic broke through her preoccupation. “Rovia, you can’t!”

  She set down her fork and rose. Josiah’s friend Dari was at the next table, staring horrified at a muscular young woman across from him. She met his gaze with barely contained fury.

  Meira had gotten to know and like the young farmer while they worked together to process saltpeter and during the voyage downriver to Korisan. It was good to see he’d survived the battle. She walked over and reached to lay her hand on his shoulder, at the last moment snatching back her right arm and substituting her left. “Is there a problem?”

  Dari jumped and shot her a guilty glance. “No, Master Meira. We were just talking.”

  Rovia transferred her glare to Meira. “Go away. This is none of your business.”

  “Rovia! Don’t be rude. This is Master Meira, who I told you about. The one who invented the blasting powder.”

  “I didn’t—”

  Rovia’s eyes widened and her face reddened even further. Her hands gripped the edge of the table. “You’re the one who made those Mother-cursed weapons?”

  “I helped, but mostly it was Josiah and—”

  “So it’s your fault, too!” Rovia’s voice rose until it was nearly a shriek. “Along with that lying snake of a wizard. You’re the reason my master’s dead!”

  “Rovia, be quiet.” Dari glanced furtively around. “It’s not like that. The Ramunnans killed Master Tian.”

  “No, they didn’t! It was the weapon.” Rovia sank back onto the bench. Her voice dropped, but it was so bitter Meira recoiled. “We charged ahead, to where the Ramunnans had taken a stand. The blasters told us they would stop shooting, but they didn’t. All the time we were fighting, balls kept flying around us. One of them smashed right through Master Tian’s h—” She broke off with a strangled sob.

  Cold horror gripped Meira. “Rovia, I’m sorry. Everything was so confused in the middle of the battle. The weapon crew must not have realized you were there.”

  “They knew.” Rovia’s words were heavy with hatred. “They just didn’t care. A few herders more or less, what does that matter to wizards?”

  “Rovia, that’s not fair.” Dari grabbed for her hands, but she snatched them away. “The wizards had nothing to do with it.”

  “They’re why we’re here.” Her voice dropped to a poisonous whisper. “And so are you. You talked me into cooperating with Josiah. If we hadn’t helped him with his little trick, Master Tian and all the others who died would be safe at home right now.”

  “They knew the risk. If they hadn’t come, we probably would have lost.”

  “I don’t care! At least the Ramunnans attack you from in front, not behind!”

  Dari sputtered. Meira sat down heavily beside him and leaned forward, dropping her voice to a low hiss. “What trick?”

  Dari swallowed. “It was nothing,” he said quickly. “Josiah was just fixing the problem he accidentally caused when he saved my life. If it hadn’t been for that, the farmers and herders would have gone to Korisan like they planned. So we had to make sure they still did.”

  Rovia’s fists clenched. “I’m going to tell the Herders’ Guild how the wizards lied to us.”

  “No!” Dari grabbed her hands, successfully this time. “You can’t. Please. We promised.”

  Rovia stared at his fingers around hers. Her shoulders sagged. “But I saw, Dari. One minute he was riding down a Ramunnan and sticking his spear into his belly, and the next—” Her voice broke. “There was blood everywhere. His horse screamed and bolted. He was hanging out of the saddle…”

  Dari vaulted across the table and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. “I know.” His voice trembled as well. “I saw things just as horrible. Lots of them. But it’s over now. We never have to do that again.”

  She sagged against him. “You’re sure?”

  “As long as the Ramunnans don’t attack again. We proved we’re stronger, so they’re afraid of us and willing to bargain. But they’re still here. That’s why we can’t let anyone know what Jo
siah did. If we start fighting with each other or turning against the wizards, they might decide we’re weak enough to beat after all.”

  She shook her head against his chest. “But I don’t trust the wizards anymore. Everything I’ve heard about them is true. They really do favor the other guilds over the herders. They sure didn’t order their weapons to fire on any farmers.”

  Meira cleared her throat. Dari and Rovia both turned to her. Her voice sounded harsh in her ears. “The wizards bear no blame for what the weapons did. The Blasters’ Guild accepts full responsibility. Our first official act will be to pay reparations for any Tevenaran injured or killed by our weapons or blasting powder. To them, their family, and their guild.”

  Rovia narrowed her eyes. “I thought the Council hadn’t approved the Blasters’ Guild.”

  “Not yet. There’s a meeting tomorrow morning for that purpose.”

  The girl studied Meira for a long moment, then shrugged. “Can I tell the Herders’ Guild so? Master Tian wasn’t the only herder the weapons killed.”

  “Please do. Tell them they can present a complete list to me as soon as I’m officially instated as guildmaster.”

  “All right. I will.” Rovia rubbed the back of her neck.

  “And you won’t mention how we tricked them?” Dari said. “Josiah said he could be kicked out of the Wizards’ Guild for what he did.”

  Rovia looked torn, but finally spread her hands. “I’ll be quiet for now. But if I see the wizards abusing the herders one more time, I’m going to tell Master Odmun everything, and smash who gets hurt.”

  “You won’t, I swear,” Dari told her.

  “We’ll see.” Rovia glowered at him, shook her head, and turned her attention to her neglected plate.

  Meira stood up. Left, she reminded herself. She pushed Dari’s plate across the table. “I’ll leave you two to your meal.”

  Dari gave her a grateful look, Rovia a darkly skeptical one. Meira nodded to them both and turned away. The herder seemed likely to keep her mouth shut, at least for the time being.

  She went back to her place, but someone had cleared her abandoned plate and spilled food. She headed across the plaza, past the fountain with its flanking guard of weapons, and up the steps of the Mother’s Hall. Her right wrist hit the heavy carved door. She grimaced, but instead of switching to her left she set her forearm flat against the wood and shoved it open.