The Wizards' War

by Angela Holder

  Elkan grimaced. “I don’t want to risk anything going wrong.”

  “The Mother will come no matter what you do. Now come on. The meal smells delicious. Which is unusual enough for me these days I want to take full advantage while I can.”

  They entered the dining hall together. Elkan paused. “Josiah, would you like to sit with us today?”

  “No, thanks.” The chairs at the round masters’ tables were easier to get into and out of than the benches at the long apprentice tables, but he didn’t want to miss eating with his friends one last time.

  At least some of them were going to Ramunna with him. All the Ravanethans, of course, along with their masters. Braon and Master Todira, too. A few other apprentices would accompany their masters, though none who hadn’t yet bonded. A bunch of journeymen were going, and a number of masters without apprentices who would take on the new Ramunnan wizards the Mother chose.

  He could still ask her to send him a new familiar, if he wanted. But he’d thought long and hard about his decision to leave the Wizards’ Guild, and he was certain he’d made the right one.

  Gevan had promised to tutor him during the voyage so he’d be ready to enter the University as soon as they arrived. With so many wizards to hurry the ship along, they might even get there before the next term started. His days would be filled with classes and studying. Any free time would be spent with Gevan and Nalini, working on new inventions.

  If he bonded with another familiar, he’d be obligated to fulfill the responsibilities of a wizard, healing and helping and showing truth. He wasn’t willing to make that his first priority any more. He’d loved serving as a wizard, but he was looking forward to devoting himself to learning and creating even more.

  And the Mother’s power would always be part of his life, because of Kevessa.

  She took his cane and stashed it under the table as he lowered himself to the bench beside her. He wanted to kiss her, but she didn’t like to get too obviously affectionate in public, so he settled for squeezing her knee. She pressed her ankle against his and smiled at him. “Ready to sail?”

  “Yep. You?”

  “Almost. I have to go down to the market and pick up some clothes I ordered at the last minute. I refuse to go back to wearing corsets and skirts while I’m working. They’re fine for dancing or sitting around talking, but they get in the way too much when we’re healing people. Ramunnan society will have to adjust. I’ll be able to get away with it because we’re bringing so many female Tevenaran wizards for me to blend in with—I know they’re not going to adopt Ramunnan dress. But I doubt I’ll be able to find a tailor willing to make what I want for a long time.”

  He thought she looked equally beautiful whatever she wore—or didn’t. He’d tell her so later, in private. “Elkan wants me to come by his office after the meal. So I guess I’ll meet you at the dock when it’s time to board.”

  She sighed. “I’m not looking forward to another voyage. Two months with nothing for me and Nina to do except push air into the sails and heal the occasional scratch. I packed plenty of embroidery supplies, but even that gets old after a while.”

  “We should enjoy having so much time to spend together. Once we get to Ramunna, with me at the University and you busy in the Mother’s Hall, we’re hardly going to get to see each other.”

  She reached for his hand and laced their fingers together. “Only until next year. I talked to Father again. If you do as well as he expects you to at the University, he said he won’t object to a formal betrothal when you turn eighteen.”

  Josiah winced. “No pressure, then.”

  “Father’s taught hundreds of students. If he thinks you’ll do well, you will.”

  “I hope so.” Sometimes when he was exhausted and in pain and furious at the limitations of his crippled limbs, his only solace came from remembering that Sar had chosen to protect his mind at the expense of his body. As far as he and Elkan had been able to determine, his brain was intact, undamaged by the extreme demand that had consumed so much else. He squeezed Kevessa’s hand. “I’ll wait as long as I have to, but the sooner the better.”

  Her slow smile, rich with promise and longing, made his heart race. He didn’t understand how Kevessa could look past his wasted body and desire him anyway, but she did. He thanked the Mother every day for that fact.

  The food arrived, and both of them turned their attention to passing the loaded platters and filling their plates. Each dish was better than the last. Josiah devoured every bite and went back for more. After this it would be travel rations, and then the bland fare the University provided its resident students. The Wizards’ Guild was paying his tuition, in recognition of all he’d sacrificed for them and as an investment in the discoveries they hoped he’d someday make, but he was going to be short on pocket money for a while.

  The conversation around the table was lively, with everyone speculating about the voyage and what awaited them in Ramunna, but now and then Josiah caught an undercurrent of melancholy. Those who parted today wouldn’t see each other again for years, if ever. The journey to the other side of the world was too long and risky to be taken lightly. Josiah would probably never return to Tevenar.

  He’d said most of his farewells already. A few weeks ago he’d traveled by wagon to Korisan and spent time with his family. The town was almost back to normal. His parents’ pottery shop was thriving again. His older sister Benta and her new spouse had stood up together while he was there. His younger brother Eban had chosen to apprentice with the Herders’ Guild at the coming Springtide. His mother, after her initial horror at Josiah’s condition, had regaled all the neighbors with proud stories of his heroism.

  He’d traveled upriver to check on the progress of the new blasting powder mill for Meira. It was well underway. He’d discussed the improvements being implemented with the builder in charge and made a few suggestions that had been favorably received. On his way back, he’d asked the carter to stop at the fulling mill. All the equipment was back in place. The wheel turned and the stocks pounded the fabric just the way they always had. Josiah watched for a few minutes, then climbed back aboard the cart. He didn’t particularly want to speak to Master Sef, and he doubted his old master would appreciate the chance to say good-bye.

  Somehow he’d survived the tear-soaked parting from his family. They’d all promised to send letters regularly, although it might be years before reliable messenger service across the ocean was established. He’d been relieved when it was finally over and the wagon rocked back toward Elathir.

  Since he’d gotten back he’d quietly bid farewell to the people and places that had become important to him during his time here. Last Restday Kevessa had gone with him to visit Sar’s grave in the meadow where the donkey had loved to graze. It had still been too cold to swim, but they’d cuddled by the waterfall and talked about the past and the future. She’d held his hand as he stood by the stone marker and talked silently to the Mother and his familiar for a long time.

  Only one farewell remained. He dreaded it more than any of the others.

  The meal ran late, but there were patients waiting in the Hall, so before too long the wizards who were staying headed back to work. Kevessa kissed him and set off for the market. The other travelers scattered to take care of last minute tasks.

  Josiah lingered over the crumbs of his second slice of cake until the dining hall was empty. Then he laboriously retrieved his cane from under the table and made his slow way across the big room, through the bustle of activity in the main Hall, and down the short hallway to the Guildmaster’s office.

  Elkan was standing next to one of the couches, absently stroking Tobi, studying the random graceful movements of Master Dabiel’s hanging sculpture. Josiah came to stand beside him. Light glinted from the polished surfaces of the wood and crystal and metal ornaments, each one a unique and beautiful work of art in its own right. Sections turned slowly in varying directions, responding to forces Josiah couldn’t see.

&nbs
p; Elkan reached out and touched a shining crystal teardrop. The whole structure trembled. Its movement became more agitated for a moment, then smoothed out, settling into new patterns.

  With a sigh Elkan turned to seat himself on the couch, gesturing for Josiah to take the other. “I’ve been trying to think of some profound words of wisdom to pass on before you leave. Without much luck, I’m afraid. You’ve already learned what I have to teach you. I’m glad you’ve got the opportunity to study under others who’ll be able to nurture your gifts better than I can.”

  Josiah swallowed hard. “I’ll never have a better master than you.”

  “And I doubt I’ll ever have a better apprentice.” Elkan grinned ruefully. “Easier, certainly. Less prone to dragging me along with them into trouble. Less liable to drive me to the end of my patience or make me sick with worry. Less likely to get tangled up in events that end up changing the world.”

  “More boring, you mean.” Josiah waved his hand dismissively. “Admit it. The last three years would have been a lot less fun if you and Sar hadn’t been there to keep that fulling stock from squishing me.”

  Elkan’s lips twitched. “I suppose fun is one word for it.”

  “Speaking of Sar.” Josiah tried to keep his voice light as he pulled an object from his pocket and leaned across the table to pass it to Elkan. “I must have found twenty brushes while I was cleaning out my room. I gave most of them to Master Jenion along with the rest of Sar’s stuff, but I kept one. I thought you might like one, too.”

  Elkan gripped the wooden base and rubbed his fingers through the stiff bristles and the mat of gray hairs tangled among them. With a convulsive movement he raised it to his face and breathed in deeply. Josiah had done the same thing with every brush he’d found. The donkey’s strong musky scent had overwhelmed him with memories. Elkan blinked hard and swallowed. “Thank you. I’ll treasure it.”

  Josiah nodded. Elkan set the brush down beside him and picked up a wooden box resting there. He leaned over to pass it to Josiah. “I’ve got something for you, too.”

  Josiah accepted the box and rested it in his lap. With no idea what he would find, he unlatched the hinged lid and raised it. Inside, familiar metal and wood and crystal ornaments nestled among wool padding, wires neatly coiled and rods carefully arranged around the edges. He stared at them, his eyes filling and his throat going tight.

  Elkan gestured up. “It’s smaller than this one, but the same artist made it. I was glad to find he’d come back to Elathir after the war and reopened his shop. I thought you’d like your own.”

  Josiah blinked and swallowed hard. “It’s perfect.” He reverently closed the lid and fastened it closed.

  “Good.” Elkan settled back on the couch, his expression pleased, but his eyes shadowed with awareness of the many layers of meaning the gift carried for both of them. For a while they sat in silence.

  Finally Josiah said, “I guess you’re looking forward to talking with the Mother again.”

  Elkan’s smile was strained but genuine. “Very much.”

  “Tell her I really enjoyed getting to be a wizard. Say that I’m grateful she didn’t break my bond and would send me another familiar if that’s what I wanted, but it’s not. I still want to serve her, but I know I can do it better another way.”

  Elkan nodded gravely. “She knows already, but I’ll tell her.”

  Josiah rubbed the back of his neck. “I am making the right decision, aren’t I, master?”

  A smile lurked behind Elkan’s solemn expression. “Would you change your mind if I said you weren’t?”

  Josiah scowled at him. “No.”

  Elkan spread his hands. “Then there’s not much point in asking, is there?” He sobered. “But for the record, yes, I think you’re making the right choice. I think you’ll thrive in Ramunna in ways you couldn’t have as a member of any guild in Tevenar. Even the Wizards’ Guild.”

  Josiah nodded. Again they were silent.

  Eventually Elkan glanced at the angle of sunlight coming through the high windows. “You’d better head down to the dock and get settled aboard the ship. I’ll come down to see you off, but I need to get some paperwork done first. You’d think the guild had never done without their Guildmaster for three whole days before. I hope it’s not going to be this hectic every spring.”

  Josiah hesitated. But if he didn’t ask the question that had been bothering him, he’d never know the answer. “I’m kind of surprised we’re leaving now instead of after you come back. I thought you wanted to make sure it really is the Mother’s will that we go.”

  Elkan looked at the hanging sculpture for a long moment before meeting Josiah’s eyes. “She would have let us reimpose isolation if that’s what the people of Tevenar chose, because ultimately it’s a matter for our free will. But her desire to make her power freely available to all her children never wavered. I don’t have to ask her if that’s her will. I know it is. I always have.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I lost sight of the truth for a while because I was hurt and afraid. You helped me see it again, along with Meira and Tenorran and Tesi and Kevessa and Vigorre and all the others.”

  He tousled Tobi’s head. “Master Dabiel would never tell me what to do, even when I begged her. She said it had to be my choice. I suspect the Mother would say the same thing. This is something I have to decide for myself.” He rose and extended a hand to Josiah. “So I have. Captain Yosiv wanted to sail as soon as his cargo was loaded, and there was no reason to delay him.”

  Josiah accepted Elkan’s help getting to his feet. “For the record, I think you’re making the right choice.”

  Elkan chuckled. “That’s good to know.” He embraced Josiah, and Josiah hugged him back with all his strength. “I’m going to miss you.”

  “I’ll miss you, too.” Josiah’s vision blurred.

  Tobi butted his hip. He crouched to hug her, burying his face in her fur until the tears and the tightness in his throat passed. “You too, Tobi. You’re going to have to keep Elkan on his toes after I’m gone.”

  Her tail twitched and her tongue lolled out at him. Elkan winced. “She says to tell you not to worry. She’ll keep me in line. And if she ever needs help, Meira will be happy to lend a hand.” He gave a mock shudder. “I’m in trouble now.”

  Josiah heaved himself back upright, grinning. “You certainly are.”

  Elkan pretended to glare before dissolving into a smile. “Maybe I should warn Kevessa and Nina to keep you in line.”

  It was Josiah’s turn to feign dismay. “Believe me, they already plan to.” He couldn’t quite keep a smile from his lips at the thought.

  Elkan put an arm around his shoulders and guided him to the door. “Then I won’t worry. Between the two of them and the Mother, I’ll know you’re in good hands.”

  * * *

  All the goodbyes had been said, all the tears shed, all the hugs exchanged. Josiah stood in the stern of the Verinna and watched as the dockworkers cast loose the ropes. With a shout, the last mooring came free.

  On the dock, Elkan put one hand on Tobi’s head and raised the other. His voice carried clearly across the widening strip of water. “May the Mother be with you on your journey.”

  All the other wizards on the dock echoed his words and gesture. Gold light sprang from their hands and enveloped the ship. It nudged them into the center of the river and stirred wind to fill the sails. Its warm pleasant tingle bathed Josiah’s body until they reached the edge of the wizards’ range and the light faded.

  The roofs of Elathir receded behind them, growing smaller and smaller. Josiah kept his eyes fixed on the dock and the figures there until a bend of the river took them out of sight.

  He swallowed hard. For a frantic moment he wanted to run to Captain Yosiv and demand he turn the ship around and take him home.

  Then warm arms encircled his waist and Kevessa’s head rested on his shoulder. Nina chittered in his ear. Josiah put his arms around Kevessa. Neither of them said anything f
or a while. Josiah laid his cheek on her hair and breathed its floral scent.

  The ship passed the newly completed fortress that guarded the mouth of the river. Weapons lined the stone walls, ready to defend Tevenar from any threatened invasion. Meira had worked with the Smiths’ Guild to design larger weapons with a longer range, so that no enemy could approach close enough to put Elathir in danger. Master Edniel was expanding the Watch so there would be sufficient trained fighters to staff it. Dues for all guilds had gone up to finance the project. People had grumbled, but memory of the war was still fresh, and no one wanted to risk another. The arrival of the first trade ships from Ramunna and Marvanna had done much to alleviate any remaining discontent. Tevenar would prosper under the new arrangements. Never again would a single crop failure threaten insurmountable disaster.

  Sailors swarmed overhead to change the set of the sails. Kevessa took a deep breath and straightened. “Would you like to move to the bow? Maybe we’ll see dolphins again like we did last time.”

  “Yes.” He squeezed her waist and let go. She took his hand and matched his slow pace all the way to the front of the ship.

  The rest of the wizards were gathered there already, eagerly pointing at curved backs and pointed fins breaking from the water. Vigorre and Tesi moved over to make room for Josiah and Kevessa at the rail.

  The forest of masts that had fringed the coast for months was gone. The Matriarch had sailed for Ramunna as soon as the transfer of weapons from Faithful ships to Armada vessels was complete. All Faithful ships had returned to Faithhome. The Autarch’s vessels had been repaired and sent home, carrying word of Tane’s safe arrival on the island chosen for his exile and details of the treaty he’d signed. Some of the wizards traveling with them would continue on to Marvanna after a brief stay in Ramunna.

  Josiah watched the dolphins for as long as he was able, but well before the others tired of the sight he closed his eyes and sagged against the railing. The pain had escalated to a level that demanded his attention, focusing in his head the way it often did. “I need to go down to my cabin and take a nap. I’ll join the rest of you for the evening meal. If I can.” He pressed his fingers into his temples, trying to ease the jolts of agony radiating through his skull.