Ink Mage (26 page)

Silence stretched, only for a moment, but Tosh suddenly felt heavy. The room seemed to darken.

Tosh spread his hands. “But
why
?”

“I’ll do it,” Tenni said.

Mother ignored the girl and narrowed her eyes at Tosh. “In a very short time, you’ve made yourself a valuable addition to our family here at the Wounded Bird, Tosh. But I’m the boss, the captain, the queen, however you want to put it. When I need to explain something, I will. Right now I don’t. You don’t have to like it. You also don’t have to stay. Are we clear?”

Tosh swallowed hard. “We’re clear.” The idea of being turned out in the thick of winter didn’t appeal. The thought of being separated from Tenni was worse.

Mother’s eyes shifted to Tenni. “You’ll do what you’re told and when.”

Tenni averted her gaze. “Yes, Mother.”

Mother patted her hair, exhaled slowly, composing herself. “See what you’ve done? You made me lose my temper.”

“Sorry, Mother,” Tosh said.

“It’s not your fault.” Mother sighed. “So much to do and so little time. It wears on the nerves, doesn’t it?”

Yeah, and scheming to murder a Perranese official is as soothing as warm milk
.

“Oh, I almost forgot to mention,” Mother said. “Naturally, it has to look like an accident.”

* * *

“I
demand
to see General Chen at once!” Giffen’s face was red, a light sheen of sweat from running up the stairs to the general’s—formerly the duke’s—private office.

The prim functionary sitting at the table and frowning didn’t impress Giffen in the least. Giffen had spent his share of time as a prim functionary himself. He could muster just as much self-importance and bluster as the general’s private secretary.

However, the two guards who stepped up to bar his way couldn’t be ignored. No amount of bluster would get him past their blades.

“I told you,
Lord
Giffen,”—he said
Lord
as if they all knew the title to be a fiction—“that the General is in conference with his officers at the moment and not to be disturbed. If you’d care to wait—”

Giffen had just drawn breath to harangue the petty functionary with fresh obscenities when the heavy wooden door of Chen’s office swung open. A dozen Perranese officers flowed out, talking among themselves in their own tongue, walking past Giffen and shouldering him out of the way as if he were a surplus article of furniture.

When the officers had passed into the corridor, Chen stepped out, frowned. “Giffen. I’ve been expecting you.”

Giffen said, “General, did you really send an expeditionary force into the lowlands?”

“No.”

Giffen blew out a sigh of relief.

“It was an
attack
force,” Chen said.

Giffen’s face turned a new and interesting shade of crimson. “But why? This is reckless! All of our secrecy has been undermined! You can’t possibly think—”

Chen calmly held up a finger, and Giffen clapped his mouth shut.

“Before you say something regretful,” said the general, “come into my office. I’ll explain.”

Giffen sneered past the secretary and into the office. Chen shut the door behind them.

Giffen opened his mouth, but a sharp glance from Chen shut it again.

“Do you think me a fool?” Chen asked.

Is this a trick question?

“It’s just …” Giffen cleared his throat. “On the surface, it would
seem
that sending a large force out of Klaar would be … rash. Our plan has been to keep your presence on Helvan soil a secret until reinforcements can arrive in the spring.”

“The secret is out,” Chen said. “Plans change.”

Giffen’s eyes widened. “What do you mean the secret is out?”

“It was a hopeless ambition in the first place, if you ask me,” Chen said. “The idea that we could land an invasion force on the continent and not be discovered is ludicrous. I told them so at the war council.”

Giffen paced. “The king will send troops. We’re undone.”

“Calm yourself.” Chen’s patience was strained. “Word has reached Merridan of our arrival, but this contingency has been foreseen.”

“Foreseen?” Giffen clenched his fists. “Damn it, what do you mean?”

Chen spun and advanced upon Giffen, jaw set and eyes sharp. “I’m in no mood, Giffen. I’ll explain, but if you don’t like it, it’s not my concern. You understand?”

Giffen fought down his scorn. “Explain then.”

“It was always known the gamble could fail,” Chen said. “In fact, it has mostly succeeded and only failed at the very end.”

Giffen rolled his eyes. He should have known he couldn’t count on these foreigners. In Giffen’s eyes, the plan was simple. They would use Klaar as a foothold and then move on with the spring thaw. Giffen would be left to rule the duchy without interference. But if Helva knew of the invaders, then an army might be marching to repel them even now.

“What do you intend?” Giffen asked.

Chen said, “The only thing that matters is that I follow orders. It is by a happy circumstance that my orders coincide with my preference. I’m a battle general. Garrison duty doesn’t suit me. I’m glad for a chance to press forward.”

“And for what?” asked Giffen. “You can’t conquer Helva with the men you have now.”

Chen smiled patiently. “Of course not. That was never the plan.” He gestured to a table on which there was a map of the kingdom spread wide. Both men leaned over the map and peered intently.

“My orders are specific.” With a forefinger, Chen traced a trail from Klaar down into the lowlands of Helva. “These lands are sparsely populated with scattered villages. I’ve promoted Tchi to Commander and sent him with eight hundred men to seize the region. There are no major townships or cities, so the force should be sufficient.”

“It doesn’t matter if there aren’t major cities,” Giffen said. “The king will still see it as an incursion.”

“Of course,” Chen said. “We’re counting on it.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

“Our spies at court in Merridan tell us the king now knows we occupy Klaar,” Chen said. “What our spies do
not
tell us is what the king might do about it. Seizing a chunk of the lowlands gives us a bargaining chip. Our diplomats can allow the king a minor political victory by demanding we withdraw, which we will do happily. We won’t leave Helva, obviously, but we’ll retreat back to Klaar, which will be enough for the king to save face. He’ll tell his courtiers the Perranese are
contained
in some unfashionable, backwater duchy that nobody wants to visit anyway.”

Giffen considered. It wasn’t a terrible plan, but there were too many variables, one of which was trying to predict the king’s mood. “It won’t end there. However unpopular Klaar is at court,  the duchy is still Helvan soil. The king will be obligated to take action.”

“Yes, but later,” Chen said. “Diplomatic envoys will be sent with demands. Responses will be carefully composed and sent back. More envoys will be sent for clarification. Negotiations will stretch into weeks and months. Helva has known peace for years. Its people have grown soft. War is an uncomfortable business and nobody except a few saber-rattling hawks will be eager for conflict. They don’t know what we know. The Perranese Emperor is committed to conquest. The diplomats will talk and talk, but the ships will arrive and the armies will march.”

Chen smiled thinly. “We will have our war, and nothing can stop it.”

* * *

They barely made it down to the lowlands before the snows closed the pass behind them. Returning to Klaar—to the city itself—would not be possible until spring. If the column of soldiers had delayed even a few hours, departure would not have been possible.

The first few hours of marching had been bitter and dreadful, the snow flying on a harsh, stinging wind. The weather had eased once they’d come down from the mountains.

Tchi rode his horse up and down the column, inspecting the men. At first, Tchi had inwardly questioned General Chen’s decision to build barracks and house the men outside the city walls. But the men were the better for it—sharp, disciplined and in shape. Tchi had seen garrison troops go soft, but the general had avoided that problem admirably.

To Tchi, eight hundred men was an awkward fighting force. Not large enough for great conquests, but still too large to move and strike quickly. But Chen had explained his mission, and Tchi had to admit it was the right force for the job.

The first village they reached beyond Klaar’s border had taken a look at eight hundred armed and fully armored men and had capitulated immediately. As had the four villages after that. The routine was the same every time. They would identify the mayor or village elder or whomever passed for an authority figure and have him declare in front of the assembled villagers that they were all now loyal subjects of the Perranese. Tchi’s men would then confiscate half of the village’s livestock, grain and potatoes in support of the troops.

They’d kept killing to a minimum. Tchi wasn’t keen to leave an enraged population behind them.

Tchi reined in the horse, pausing at the enclosed box wagon, a sort of miniature moveable fort on four wheels which rattled and shimmied along the muddy road. He resented the wagon for stealing away two of his precious horses. He’d only been allowed twenty, and they were needed for the advance scouts.

He leaned toward the wagon, knocked on the door.

The door opened and Prullap’s round face appeared. He and Jariko had been wrapped in furs since the trek began, huddling out of the icy wind in the wagon. The wizards were not soldiers and not expected to march. So far they had also not been very useful.

Prullap grimaced as the cold air hit him. “What is it?”

“We’re coming to a town,” Tchi told him. “It’s bigger than the previous villages.”

“I’m sure your men are more than capable,” Prullap said. “You have our full confidence.”

“I was hoping for a bit more,” Tchi said. “Scouts report a sturdy palisade around the town and a barred gate. If you could conjure something especially destructive, it would help. I’m not keen to storm the walls, and it would take time.”

Prullap frowned. “Let me consult with Jariko. Perhaps we can come up with something.” He slammed the door shut.

Tchi spurred his horse to a gallop and wondered just exactly when the wizards would prove their worth. Frankly, he still thought he could make better use of the horses.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

“I am called Brint,” the priest of Kashar said. “We tend the temple on the mountain. I’m sorry, but my duty requires me to bar your passage. I intend no personal animosity.”

Rina’s gaze flitted to the mountain and back to the priest. “If you’re guarding them, shouldn’t you be up there?”

The priest shook his head, smiled in an attempt to be pleasant. “No, you misunderstand. We are not guards. The guards dwell in the tower at the base of the mountain with the wizard.”

Rina’s ears twitched at the word
wizard
.

“We are caretakers.” Brint gestured to a box wagon across the square. As the name indicated, the wagon was a sturdy wooden box on four wheels. There were generally two uses for this kind of wagon, the first being to cart around spoiled nobles who wanted protection from bandits or inclement weather. The other purpose, as was the case here, was to transport goods that needed to be locked up. A group of men loaded foodstuffs into the back of the cart, various fruits and dried meats, sacks of grain and flour and jugs of wine. “We take the necessities to those in the tower. Soon we will do the same again for the priests on the mountain. We are all servants here and wait for them to awake.”

Rina cocked her head to one side. “They sleep? I don’t understand.”

“It is the Long Dream,” Brint told her. “They commune with Kashar. It is a most holy time. For a generation we have waited for the high priests to awaken. The servants of Kashar are ever watchful and ever patient.”

Rina said, “I don’t like being told where I can and can’t go.”

A sheepish shrug, a look on Brint’s face like an apology. “All in the village serve Kashar. Every hand will rise against you. They will not relent until I call them off, and I won’t. There is no joy in this, but I will do what I must.”

No, I don’t think I’d enjoy that either
. Could she do it? Slay an entire village simply because they stood in her way? If she tapped into the spirit, yes. Instinctively, she thought it quite possible. And it was horrifying that she’d contemplate it. Weylan had warned her. Embracing power was easy. Letting it go again was something else.

She squinted at the sky. “The afternoon is getting away from us. If you’re sending us away, I‘d rather wait until first light.”

Brint considered, tugging at his long beard. “Very well.” He gestured at a nearby hut. “That dwelling is empty. Take it for the evening. We will provide you with what food we can spare to take with you. I hope this small hospitality makes you think better of us.”

“Thank you.” Rina motioned to Alem and Maurizan to unsaddle the horses. “We’ll be gone before first light and won’t trouble you anymore.”

As Alem and Maurizan carried saddles and packs into the drab hut, Brint approached Rina, pitched his voice low so that only she could hear. “We will post no guards on you. Leave in the morning with the blessing of Kashar.”

Rina raised an eyebrow. “You trust us?”

Brint smiled. “For the sake of courtesy, I would like to say yes. But really, my trust is irrelevant. If you attempt to approach the mountain, I believe you’ll find the wizard’s hospitality much less agreeable than mine.”

* * *

The squat hut was cramped within, blankets thrown over pallets of straw only a little more comfortable than camping on the cold ground. The three of them lay in a tight circle around an iron stove; a small fire crackled within, the smoke venting through a hole in the low ceiling the circumference of a soup bowl.

“Now?” Alem whispered in the darkness.

“Not yet,” Rina whispered back.

“This is a terrible idea,” Maurizan whispered.