If Crows Know Best (Mage of Merced Book 1) (23 page)

“Where’s the paladin to be found?” Rews called to the merrymakers.

“Out watching the night take shape,” answered a soldier with a bristly red beard. “Find him above the main gates. Who’ve you got there?”

I reckoned a new face would stand out, since they had all been cooped here for months despite the apparent size of the place. “I’m Judian, his younger son.”

“In truth? I look forward to hearing how you’ve come to join us. We’ll see to it your bow gets some use!” For I carried it still. Others waved from across the yard, and called out greetings. No one seemed grim.

“Can your dog climb a ladder?” asked Rews, steering me to the north wall.             

“I expect so, though I can’t say as I’ve ever seen her try. She’s not likely to want to wait below unless I bid her to.”

“She is … unusual to look at,” he said.

“In more ways than looks, she’s something unusual.”

We wound our way up enclosed stone steps until we came to the ladders that led to the top of the crenellated wall. Wieser thoughtfully watched Rews climb, then mounted the rungs when I told her to follow. It did not look easy for her, but she met me at the top with her tongue lolling when I came up behind.

Dozens of men lined the battlements, illuminated by only a few torches placed low. I picked out Da readily as the tallest among them, and was off to his side as fast as I could push through the others.

“It’s Judian!” he cried when he saw me, and lifted me up to squeeze the breath out of me. A dog less aware than Wieser might have thought this a bad thing, but she seemed to know it was what I had been wanting for months. He wore a full beard, and smelled of wood smoke and sweat, but all seemed right with his strong arms about me. Still, I could not act the child in front of his soldiers. I hugged him back but then straightened my arms, and he set me on my feet.

“How have you come? Where’s Wils?”

I told him all in a rush and tumble. Wieser came and nosed at his hand as I spoke, and he petted her absently. I heard Rews take his leave from another man who bid him go organize men to carry up our delivery. Da nodded, much pleased to hear what we had brought.

When my tale ran down, Da drew me to look over the wall at the field below. Campfires dotted the grass in the distance, surrounded by the humped shapes of tents. Men gathered on the flat ground immediately outside the fort’s gates where the road cut through. All were grouped around an open area where two robed men carrying long sticks paced to and fro, accompanied by two other men who held lanterns aloft to light the way. When the lantern-bearers passed close to the encircling men, I could see that the group bore weapons aimed our way.

“What do you make of that?” mused a deep voice beside us.

“Mages,” I said, my voice sounding hollow. “Plotting the ley lines in the earth.”

CHAPTER 33

Da and the other man both stared at me.

“What do you know about mages?” the deep-voiced man asked.

“I know the Scytheran mages came to our province to hold back the winter so Keltane could invade us through the northwest pass,” I said, meeting Da’s steady gaze.

Da turned to lay a hand on the shoulder of an officer behind him. “Watch closely. Send for me at once if they begin to do anything different from what they’re about now. We’ll be in the fortmaster’s study.”

He waved a hand at me and the other man I had answered, so we fell in behind him, with Wieser behind me. There ensued a bit of dither at the ladder, for Wieser could not make out how to climb down it. I was trying to coax her to start backwards, when a pair of strong fellows collared by Da lifted her into a giant bucket and lowered her with rope and pulley. I clambered down the ladder beside her. She licked her nose often as she descended, but sat still and did not tip the bucket at all. She wasted no time hopping out by the stairs, while I thanked the men. They chuckled and waved at me from the height.

Da led us deep within the fortress walls, where corridors intersected and arched doorways led to a plethora of passages. It would take long and long to explore this place. Da spoke to many men as he passed, but the other man walked silently, head down. Both Wieser and I had to trot to keep up.

At last, we went through a thick door of peeled logs, into a rounded room with a banked fire. A broad slab table stood by the hearth, with a trio of chairs pulled up to its map-strewn surface. Da used the tallow candle he carried to light the candles on the table, while the other man shut the door.

“Sit here, Judian, and tell us about the mages. This is Fortmaster Cochren Luppes.” Da pulled out a chair for me, then he and the fortmaster sat in the others. Wieser crawled under the table to lie at my feet.

I cleared my throat, and told what I knew of weather-workers from Virda, and how I had seen them marking out the lines of power when we were hiding in the mountain caves. “Have you never seen them at this pass before?” I asked Da.

“No, only Keltanese troops. Though during the build up to the invasion, some heard rumors the mages were responsible for the illusion of enemy forces beyond their true number.”

“I have always seen two mages at a time. Well, both at home and tonight. Whether they work in pairs and there are many of them, or just two traveling the country, who can say?”

“I have not heard of or seen any uncanny weather or unseasonable occurrences such as you describe,” said Cochren Luppes, his bass voice rumbling. “Are you sure the snows did not come late naturally?”

I had no patience left for being thought only a boy who knew nothing. “The enemy soldier I captured admitted as much,” I said, which changed his doubtful expression to one of shock, “but I have not had chance to get a confession from a mage, no.”

Da was biting his tongue inside his cheek, by the way it looked. “Can you speculate what they might have come here to do?”

“Eliminate your threat to the pass. Take the fort. Through some form of magical attack, is my wager. You need a plan to loose the rockslides before the sorcerers make it impossible, somehow.” I felt more certain as I said it.

“This isn’t even your grown son,” protested Fortmaster Luppes.

“He knows more from traversing the countryside than we know from months behind these walls. I can think of a plan, using your stolen cargo wagon and uniforms to get a team of men to the other wall of the pass.”

“We sent the wagon to the river, as I said.” I went on, ignoring Luppes’s scowl, “I can go back outside to summon it and bring Wils and Annora within. How soon can you act?”

“Two teams of men are already chosen and trained, but we must have light of day for the climbing on both sides of the pass. Will the wagon hold a dozen men under the cargo tarp?”

I nodded. “Yah, it’s one of the big rigs meant for hauling across the mountains.”

“We’ll load the team at the tunnel mouth, then send the wagon across the valley to join the roadway headed west. I’ll school your driver where to leave the road to let the men off to begin their ascent. We’ll need to time carefully, Cochren,” Da said, including the fortmaster at last.

“What about the team for this south side of the mountain?” I asked.

“They will have to leave by the tunnel and climb up behind the fort, which will take longer.” Da pulled a map toward him, and pointed to the pass.

“We haven’t been able to get men to the north side, y’see,” Cochren Luppes said, an edge of defensiveness to his low voice. I recalled Wils had not held a high opinion of him, for wanting Da to stay and do the job of closing the pass. “Now we can move at last, if all comes together.”

“We’ll make it come together,” Da said, and pushed the map under Cochren’s gaze.

A quick rap at the door, and a breathless soldier entered when Da said, “Come.”

“They’re doing something queer, sir, the mages.” He paused for a gulp of air. “Chanting, and the wind is rising fast. You’d best come …”

We all rose at once, and went as quick as we could to the top of the wall. This time I bade Wieser wait at the bottom of the ladder, and climbed up with my crossbow slung behind me. The air had grown cold and black clouds billowed above, driven by a fierce wind. The mages moved farther from the gates, and stood some distance away, still surrounded by the cadre of Keltanese soldiers. A bonfire burned in the field beside them. By its light, I could make out a pale flapping shape spread out on the grass that looked like a ship’s sail, and was of similar size to the sails I had seen at Bale Harbour. Men worked beneath it, slinging ropes and tying a dark shape about as big as a pig to the underside.

The ropes led to a giant wooden wheel, like a thread spool. Half a dozen men stood beside the wheel, holding the ropes. I pointed to them, and said, “Can you see, the wheel—there’s rope wound all around the middle!” I had to shout over the keening wind.

“This is not what I expected for an attack by magic,” Luppes called in Da’s ear.

“No, it’s the wind, that’s the magic,” I answered, but felt the whip of the air carry my voice away into the night sky.

Da reached out and caught a soldier by the arm, and pulled him near so he could cup hands to his ear to shout over the wind, “Get down to the cisterns and send Beckta and Miskin out the tunnel to get Wils, and tell them to call the wagon back. Go now!”

The man sprinted over the stones and down the ladder at once.

Next Da pointed at me and then the ladder. I shook my head. I knew he wanted me to get below for my own safety, but I could not leave him. I could not make my feet move.

“I can do magic!” I called out in desperation. “Let me stay! See if I can help!”

Da was lifting his hand to point at the ladder again, when the officers began to shout, “It’s flying! It’s in the air!” waving their arms frantically at the field to the north. I rushed to the wall with Da, and saw the snapping, jerking sail rise into the howling wind.

The mages strode out to stand beneath the sail as the men by the wheel strained to hold it in place in the air, hauling on the ropes. They looked to be shouting to one another, the sound drowned by the gusts.

I could only just see the mages in the firelight, raising their arms; each held a long staff in his right hand. Wind whipped their robes about them, as they faced each other and struck the two staves together over their heads, loosing a shower of bright sparks. A shaft of golden light sprang from the crossed staves to strike the underside of the sail, where the dark object I had watched them tie in place earlier was held.

A boom I felt in my belly echoed off the sheer mountainsides, as the shape exploded into flame.

The men straining to hold the sail now let it fly up, over the fortress wall, fire raining from beneath. Soldiers on the battlements screamed and fled, trying to escape the streaming flames. Da and some others drew bows and let fly at the wings of the thing, but how could they hope to bring it down in a wind so fierce? I had to turn my eyes southward so I could open them wider than mere slits. I saw the purpose of the attack then: wooden roofs within the fort, over the stable yard and more. Thatch and haystacks, too. I looked for Da to tell him, but I was shoved aside by the soldiers jostling, seeking some way to fight the great winged thing.

I turned as I fought for balance, to see a huge dark hawk, buffeted by the gale, but still pounding its wings against the roaring air. It swung wide and rode the air over the wall, then circled the courtyard. The pale fabric wings followed its curving path—the hawk was leading it. No—the hawk was guiding the wind to carry it! And with a sudden jerk of shock, I knew a mage looked through the hawk’s eyes to find his target in the fort. I could
feel
him doing it.

None of the men seemed to have noticed the hawk. I cocked and loaded my crossbow with shaking hands, shouting, “Bring down the hawk!” though I knew they could not hear me over the wind and tumult. The fire splashed onto the thatch and shingles below. Flames shot high, whipped by the frantic torrents of air.

“The hawk!” I cried again, and let fly a bolt and a prayer for it to find its mark.

It was too dark to see my quarrel’s path, but I saw the bird spin and tumble in the air, surely struck. It did not fall, instead beating harshly with its broad wings, it righted itself, and flew straight toward me.

I scrambled to reload. Da appeared beside me, and I gestured with my bow at the rushing hawk—“The mage is in it! Kill it, bring it down!” He fired as the bird drew in its wings to dive, talons outstretched. Da’s bolt flew wide of its wing, and I loosed mine to strike through the neck. The bird crashed onto the battlements at our feet.

The wind began to drop at once, and the soldiers around us leapt up to grasp the ropes that hung from the false firebird, sinking now without the fury of the magic-driven wind. They pulled it down and doused its fire with dirt and sand from buckets on the walls by the torches.

Fires roared in the keep below, with masses of men struggling to put them out. I could hear the echoing screams of panicked horses. Da prodded the body of the hawk with the toe of his boot. Not yet dead, it locked eyes with me, panting, its dark blood spreading on the stones. I trembled so hard I could scarcely keep my grip on my crossbow. A bitter chill clawed at my chest. Then, just as suddenly as I had known the mage was in the hawk, I felt him flee. A breeze ruffled the feathers across the crumpled body. The bird’s eyes turned milky, and its breath ceased. I no longer sensed the mage inside it—his mount was dead but he lived.

I ran to peer over the wall into the field to the north. Both sorcerers stood stone-frozen in the light of the bonfire below. And I swore both of them looked directly at me as I stood on the walkway above. What would they do now? Now that they knew me …

Da’s hand on my shoulder jerked me back, and I found I had been leaning out over the edge, on the brink of tumbling over. My ears buzzed and I felt distant, disconnected from my eyes and feet. “I’m taking him down below,” Da told the officer at his side. “Find me in the infirmary if anything changes.”

I did not speak, and let him lead me to the ladder. Wieser leapt and barked at its foot. I wanted to tell her I was all right, but I did not trust my voice not to quaver.

Someone pulled my crossbow out of my feeble fingers, then Da helped me place my feet and hands on the ladder rungs. My muscles felt like sodden noodles and I fought to make them obey. I was loath to ride down in Wieser’s bucket, despite my wobbling. Once on the ground, Da’s great warm hands steered me through yard and corridors past the firefighters with Wieser walking at my heels.

We came to a long room lit by guttering candles, lined with narrow beds and reeking of smoke and burnt flesh. A white-haired man of the Order of Healers looked up from sluicing char off a man’s shoulder. His initial squint at me caused him to point to one of the cots. “Put him there. What happened?”

Da aided me to lie back, and my teeth began to chatter, then my whole body to shake so that my limbs ached with it. The healer told an assistant to put salve on the man’s burned shoulder, and crossed to me, wiping his hands on a cloth.

“This is my son. He slew a possessed creature on the battlements, and seems stunned somehow by the magic released,” Da told him.