Lesson of the Fire (40 page)

“Bui? Is that you?”

He smiled sheepishly at her. “I’m that,
Erika.”

“I am glad to see you’re safe. Eda told me
about what you have been doing for Sven. I have some soup.”

Erika had tried to forget about Tortz. It
was the first time Sven had killed other Mar and the place where he
lost a part of himself that she had fallen in love with in Leiben.
She had nearly lost him entirely. She had spent nearly a month
certain he would be executed, in fact.

Only Brand’s confession
spared me that grief
—
a confession he would not have returned to make if Nightfire
had not sent Katla and Robert to track and capture him.

A wizard could not have done it, Erika knew.
Even Sven’s reconnaissance spells were not as precise or
far-reaching as the enchanter’s.

Sven owes so much to Robert Wost, but he
couldn’t forgive him for turning the people of Tortz into fawning
slaves with his enchantment. That is forbidden by Vangard’s Rules
of Governance. Sven collected proof and brought it to Nightfire,
who had no choice but to dismiss Robert from the Academy.

“I’ll take a little, yes,” Bui replied.

Erika had eaten lunch only an hour ago, so
she wasn’t hungry, either, but she went to the fireplace where a
small pot hung and put a little soup in each bowl for hospitality’s
sake. She glanced down at Asa where she lay curled up on a rug
nearby, the flames flickering on her sleeping face.

The only good thing to
come of Tortz,
Erika thought.

“What brings you to me?” Erika asked when
they had finished eating.

“I need you to sen’ wizards to the Lapis
Amnis up north — thousan’s of ‘em.”

Erika’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

Bui scratched his beard. “We’ve got to keep
the Mass from crossin’ until the other wizards come back, an’ my
twenty guerillas can’t fight hun’reds of thousan’s of Drakes.”

She realized her mouth was open. “The
Mass?”

“Yes. That’s why you’ve trained all those
weards I saw marchin’ aroun’ the city, right?”

“They’re adepts,” she managed. “The Law was
changed so mundanes could be taught magic, but I didn’t think Sven
was preparing for the real Mass.”

Bui stiffened while she spoke, and his face
turned red. “’Depts? Mundanes usin’ magic? After Askr an’ the
others died for doin’ that? After I atoned over an’ over for doin’
it? An’ now, anyone can use the myst?” He spat the last word.

Erika shrank back at his vehemence.

Bui unclenched his fists and took a deep
breath. “The Mass is real, an’ it’s comin’. We don’t have much
time, an’ I need all the help I can get to stop it.”

Pondr had told Erika that Sven had used the
threat of the Mass to convince the duxes to change the Law.

Sven does not really believe in the Mass.
Whatever he showed the duxes must have been some ruse. Otherwise he
would not have left Domus Palus.

“You’re volunteering to lead an army to
fight the Mass?”

He nodded. “Someone has to. All the big
wizards are fightin’ Volun’, an’ none here believes me. The dux
won’t even talk to me!”

She leaned forward and clasped her hands on
the table. “I believe you, Bui. I’ll take your case to Dux Verlren,
but I need you to tell me everything you know.”

Bui stared hard at her, and she stared back,
as calm as she could.

“You’re sayin’ he might not listen to you,
either.”

If he always thought it
was real, he should already have a plan. If he knew about Sven’s
lie, though, I will never convince him.
She
said nothing.

“What’ll we do if he doesn’t?” Bui
pressed.

“I don’t know.”

Please come home soon, my love.

Bui spoke slowly. “There’re ways to fight
wizards. I could teach some of these ‘depts how to do it.”

“No!” Erika almost shouted, and Asa stirred
on her rug. She lowered her voice. “No. We need the wizards’ help.
There are only ten thousand adepts. That’s not enough to stop the
whole Mass.”

But we could train
more,
she thought.
There are more than a hundred thousand Mar in Domus Palus.
Surely they will fight the Mass to protect their homes and
families.

Bui simply nodded, but she could see the
argument in his eyes. He would kill a few hundred wizards without
hesitation if it would save a hundred thousand mundanes.

I am not Bui. I am not Sven, either.

“If Asa wakes up, tell her I’ll be back
soon,” Erika said as she left the room to find the dux.

“We must strengthen the city’s defenses, Dux
Verlren,” Erika told the Dux of Piljerka.

Yver Verlren looked up from the book he was
reading, his eyes speaking volumes about the gap between his red
cloak and her black. Having so asserted his superior wisdom, he
returned to his reading.

Erika gritted her teeth. Yver was a dux. He
had power. She was merely an apprentice who had been neglecting her
education for nearly two years.

“You are as stubborn as the Mardux.”

Yver finished the page, dog-eared it and
closed the book.

“You forget yourself, apprentice. In the
absence of the Mardux or a designated seneschal, the
highest-ranking wizard sits regent over Domus Palus.”

“The Mass is coming. We will need the aid of
every magic-wielder in Domus Palus, Dux Verlren. We need to train
more adepts — tens of thousands more.”

“Domus Palus has withstood centuries of
Drake invasions without need of additional defenses, Erika. Go tend
your daughter. This is not your concern.”

“Sven would not approve of your squandering
the only advantage we have.”

“The Mardux,” Yver emphasized the title,
“ordered the formation of the adepts to deal with this invasion
that frightens you so. Ten thousand is more than adequate.” His
small smile chilled her blood.

He knows about Sven’s ruse.

Erika plucked the book out of his hands and
hurled it out a window, eyes gleaming in a challenge beyond her
black apprentice’s cloak. “Sven’s vision is far from perfect,
whatever you believe. The gods may guide him, but they can guide us
as well. We can’t waste time reading books when the enemy will soon
be at the gates!”

He stood, calling Power to bring the book
back to his hands. “Because you are the Mardux’s wife, I will not
harm you. If you were my apprentice, however, I would punish such
insubordination. Clearly Mardux Takraf has been far too busy to
properly discipline his apprentices.”

“Please. This is no raid. The Mass — the
real Mass — approaches Domus Palus. You must make more adepts and
bring the wizards back to Domus Palus.”

“We lost contact with them some time ago.
Either they are out of range of our reconnaissance, or they are so
spread out as to be virtually undetectable.”

“What of Flasten’s army?”

He shook his head. “Even if we knew where
they were, we would hardly open our gates to an enemy force.”

“This is a bad time for a civil war. The
Mass has nearly crossed the Fens of Reur! The Mardux does not want
a slaughter. I know that.”

“Enough! This is none of your concern. Do
not attempt to manipulate me by invoking the name of your husband.
His power is not yours to command in his absence. You have no more
authority here than one of the adepts.”

She stiffened as though slapped. She held up
her right hand. “Of course, Dux Verlren. Sorry to have troubled you
with my mundane concerns.”

He had already returned to his book.

She left him to his delusions and madness.
Less than a thousand wizards remained in Domus Palus, and many were
priests loyal to Horsa. By Sven’s decree, more than ten thousand
mundanes had begun training as adepts in a city with well over a
hundred thousand mundane citizens.

If Sven will not protect Domus Palus and his
family, I will.

Chapter 33

“
Tordyn (tor dynamics) is the study of
how Mar wizards influence the myst. Each wizard’s tor has strengths
and weaknesses when it comes to wielding the myst. One might find
the myst moves toward her eagerly, but she struggles to shape it
into complex patterns. Another can call the myst for a long time
before it ceases to obey, but he cannot hold a large amount close
to him. Self-improvement by practice alone takes years, but tordyn
scholars have found techniques that ease the learning process if
they are practiced properly.”

— Weard Oda Kalidus,

The Origin of Nothing

Sven crouched in the swamp near Nightfire’s
Academy and studied his hands. He had had time to think about why
he was here and what he was doing.

He was not looking forward to the next step,
but he could see no way to avoid it. The gods had supported his
desire to create the adepts. Otherwise, one of the Council would
have seen through his ruse.

But they’ll eventually find out, and the
wands will only make them more suspicious.

In order to protect them, Sven needed to
remove all potential threats to this future army of Marrishland. He
must protect the future of the Mar, his Mar. What he had been and
what he became were nothing compared to that.

Are my hands big enough to
take on this task?
He still felt the sting
from where he had hit Erika, and his eyes watered with tears
again.
This is the only way I can prove to
her I am doing the right thing.

Sliding on a pair of gloves and drawing his
marsord, he teleported again.

* * *

“Erika, I should not do what you ask of me.
We Travellers are welcome wherever we go because we do not involve
ourselves in local politics.”

She filled his bowl with soup and handed it
to him. “This isn’t about politics, Pondr. You cannot get out of
the path of the Mass before it reaches Domus Palus.

He accepted the bowl warily. “Of course. My
life depends on your conspiracy, doesn’t it?”

She picked up a second bowl for herself.
“Unless you believe six hundred wizards can defeat three million
Drakes, yes.”

He sighed. “Where will I even find so much
stored in one place?”

She blew gently on the soup to cool it.
“Healers use it to ease pain and prevent sick wizards from hurting
themselves. Go to the temple and ask after Weard Salt. Her
reconnaissance should be able to see the Mass by now, and that
should convince her of the necessity.”

He tried to take a sip of the soup and
burned his tongue. He sighed. “Why not send one of the adepts
instead?”

“An adept is still treated like a mundane,
while a Traveller is welcomed like a Traveller.” She looked around
the room furtively. “Try to keep your true business secret until
you meet Weard Salt. We do not want to cause a panic.”

He nodded and sipped his
soup. Erika sighed and filled a third bowl. She stood up and went
down the hall to a second guest chamber, where the Mar from Tortz
waited.
The man who stalled an army. His
twenty stopped Flasten’s twenty thousand for days. What can he do
with a few hundred against a hundred thousand?

“Bui, have you considered my proposal?” She
handed him the bowl.

Bui Beglin nodded. “We’ll do what we can to
slow the Mass, if that’s what the Mardux wants. It’ll be hard to
train others so fast, but I’ll try.”

Erika handed him a pair of leather gloves
with a metal stud at the tip of each finger. “I’ll give these to as
many of the adepts as I can. It’s clumsy compared to one of Sven’s,
but it will allow even a weak magic-wielder to set proper traps.
I’ll teach some of the adepts here how to make them so we can
replace the ones your adepts use up. I wish I could provide you
with faster transportation, but the wizards seem intent upon saving
their magic for a final confrontation with the Mass.”

“These ‘dept’s’ll need to walk fast to stay
ahead of the Drakes. This’ll teach ‘em quicker.”

“May the gods watch over you, Bui.”

“You needn’t worry ‘bout that, Erika. They
will.” Bui raised his right hand in salute and left the room.

Hopefully, that will buy us time. I wish we
could have sent him with the ten thousand adepts I promised, but
even he said we need the rest here. With Pondr’s supplies, the new
adepts should be ready for action before the Mass crosses the Lapis
Amnis.

Erika hated doing this as much as she hated
that Sven had started a war between the Mar. She was not as
powerful as Sven, so she had to find other ways of protecting the
people of Domus Palus — in order to protect her husband. Whom she
had every right to be mad at, but still could not throw to the
guer.

At least my way, no one will be hurt.

Pondr grunted when Erika returned to fill
another bowl for her daughter, who was reading in the library.

I think she spends as much time reading as
Sven did when he was at the Academy.

She allowed herself a small smile.

* * *

Robert and Ari wore dark green cloaks as
they wandered into Leiben after Einar had quietly dismantled all
its defenses. The wizards and a sizable entourage of controlled
citizens gathered on the green where Sven and Erika had been
wed.

“The rest of your dear Protectorates have
little hope now that you have chosen to serve me, Weard
Schwert.”

Einar recoiled, and Robert laughed. “Time to
make more wands, Weard Schwert.”

He nodded and did as he was told.

Ari followed Robert back to his tent.

“The Mardux will miss Einar. He must already
suspect what is happening.”

“Good. Volund’s son is keeping Domus’ real
army quite busy, if the two have not destroyed each other by now.
With the ten thousand wand-wielders we already have, we would crush
any dregs Weard Takraf may have left to throw at us.” Robert’s pale
face twisted in a silent snarl that turned into a knowing smile.
“Eventually, he will have to deal with us personally, and that is a
confrontation I have been looking forward to for a long, long time.
There will be no Nightfire to spare him from me this time.”