Lesson of the Fire (45 page)

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Authors: Eric Zawadzki

Tags: #magic, #fire, #swamp, #epic fantasy, #wizard, #mundane, #fantasy about a wizard, #stand alone, #fantasy about magic, #magocracy, #magocrat, #mapmaker

BOOK: Lesson of the Fire
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If I can save even one more Mar, I will
surrender the rest of Marrishland.

* * *

Katla chafed at the timing. By now, the
First Wave was across the Lapis Amnis, maybe halfway to Domus
Palus. But because the Delegates would not see her directly if she
just appeared, she had to come with the messenger. She had to take
a periodic dose of morutsen, as well. Brack had done the same
things, and now Katla respected his patience with Drake politics.
It made Mar politics look blissfully simple.

The Delegates normally met deep in the Drake
territory north of the Fens of Reur, but with the Mass invading,
they had moved their tent capital closer to their border with the
fens. Despite having to ride the back of a striped guer with a
handful of messengers and guards, Katla did not lose as much time
as she thought she would have. They dismounted and walked when they
reached the edge of the city.

The traveling city was followed by its own
guards. Each Delegate had an entourage, varying from dozens to
thousands of their own peoples. The city could be compared to
Flasten Palus in size, but with many times the number of people.
And nearby, the Fifth Wave amassed. Staging points for the Sixth
and Seventh waves were marked within five miles east and west. This
was a political city, but it was bent on war now, to move at the
whim of those who spoke behind the gargantuan tent wall at the
north edge of the city.

As her party approached the massive space
reserved for the Delegates, she counted more than a thousand
armored striped guer with spiny-tailed guer atop their backs,
keeping watch. Jabber, spiny-tailed and snatching guer filled the
streets, not all were warriors but certainly each was capable of
wielding a weapon. Most intimidating, though, was the deep buzz of
the five stick-limbed, dragonfly-winged giant insero sweeping
periodically over the town with blow dart-wielding ravits mounted
on them.

The spiny-tailed messenger pressed his hand
against her belly to make her stop; he had refused to speak with
her the entire trip. He disappeared through a well-guarded gate in
the twenty-foot high tent wall, looming in front of them like a
cliff stitched together from the hides of thousands of deer. Next
to her, another one silently handed her the skin of morutsen. She
tipped a drop onto her tongue, deciding she was sick of the
flavor.

“The Delegates welcome Yee Ka Lah and bid
her welcome to the Delegates’ tent.”

Katla entered. She remembered Brack’s
distinction of the Mar, as opposed to those the Drakes called
Yee.

The Mar are proud, ruthless and savage, but
the Yee are humble, polite and eager to serve.

Inside, twelve of the hundreds of Delegates
were there, each with at least a half-dozen retainers. Across from
the entrance, hand clasping an ancient, carved staff, stood the
Overseer — first among equals, according to their rules. This was
Doh Zue Sah, a striped guer. If the males of her species were
large, intelligent and trustworthy, their female counterparts were
huge, brilliant and generally considered incapable of lying.

Katla stepped into the circle of Delegates
to present herself, bowed slightly to Zue Sah, then stepped back.
The Delegates would finish their current agenda before introducing
her issue, so she had time. Zue Sah gestured to the spiny-tailed
delegate, Tee Rah Rue, to continue, while Katla considered how to
speed up the proceedings or interject her own issue into them.

“The Tee have finished refurbishing the arms
and equipment of the Thirteenth Wave, but Tee Rah Rue humbly asks
the Delegates to give these Tee soldiers more time to prepare for
the march from Tee Province, for the journey is long and not
without perils.” He gestured to the snatching guer delegate, and
his voice took on a snide tone. “All the Hoh lands stand before us.
The Tee have heard the Hoh forced the Twelfth Wave to find another,
lengthier route or be attacked. The Thirteenth Wave will be of no
help to the Mass if the Hoh attack them!” He glared at Zue Sah.
“The Tee request a delay of half of a yellow moon.”

The Mar Council would be
shouting over itself at such silliness,
Katla thought. The Hoh were the snatching guer who had chosen
not to join the Mass — a blessing, as far as Katla was concerned.
The snatching guer delegate here, Hah Po Ket, bridled at Rah Rue’s
suggestion that the Hoh were his responsibility, but he did not
step forward when Zue Sah asked for comments. Instead, Joh Zoh Ta,
the jabber guer delegate, stepped forward.

“The Delegates recognize Joh Zoh Ta,” Zue
Sah said, the staff twisting in her hand.

Katla suppressed a sigh.
The news was good for her — dissent. But she had to get back to the
front, to see what was happening.
Has Sven
returned? Is Domus prepared?
She had to
know.

“The Joh don’t like Tee Rah Rue’s
suggestion. The Joh of the Thirteenth Wave are ready to march now,
but the Tee are not? While the Joh wait for the Tee, the warriors
of the Da and the soldiers of the Za win glory and territory for
themselves in Yee lands. By now, the First Wave has reached the
Yee’s great city, and the Second Wave cannot be far behind. The
great Yee city has never endured more than five waves! The Tee are
not assigned to any of the first ten waves! The Tee would not have
to ask for more time if they had readied their soldiers
sooner!”

Tee Rah Rue snorted derisively. “If Five
Waves of Da, Za and Joh cannot take down the Yee, then one wave of
Tee will have to.”

Zoh Ta’s entire body turned bright crimson
from its normal gray, which all jabber guer did when extremely
embarrassed or enraged.

“Enough!” Zue Sah shouted, before Zoh Ta
could leap on his fellow delegate. “Tee Rah Rue you are out of
line. You may leave, or remember the pact you agreed to.” Rah Rue
did not move, but lifted his chin slightly in acknowledgment.

“Now,” Zue Sah went on as Zoh Ta faded to
his usual shade and stepped out of the circle. “Are there arguments
that do not challenge the plan of attack, or shall the Delegates
make their decision regarding this matter?”

Finally,
Katla thought, but another spiny-tailed delegate,
the aged Zeh Goh Soh, stepped forward, a silver chalice held
urbanely in one clawed hand.

“The Delegates recognize Zeh Goh Soh.”

“The Zeh thank Doh Zue Sah and all the
Delegates for hearing their concerns. Long has Zeh Goh Soh
represented the Zeh among the Delegates. It has been a time of
peace and prosperity, and the Zeh are saddened by the grim
necessity of mobilizing the Mass against the Yee, for it means
fewer Zeh working in the fields and shops of Zeh Province.”

He shot a brief glance at Katla before
continuing.

“Joh Zoh Ta is right to say the great city
of the Yee has never resisted more than five waves. Therefore, the
Zeh humbly ask the Delegates to consider whether it is in the best
interests of the Drakes they represent to fully mobilize the
Mass.”

Katla could not have hoped for something
better, even as the rest of the room rumbled its thoughtful
dissent. Zue Sah raised the staff to silence them, but Goh Soh
raised his voice, outlining his argument.

“No matter how strong Yee
Seh Tah has made the Yee, it will not take three hundred waves to
defeat them. It will not even take a third of that. The twenty
waves the Delegates have already ordered mobilized will crush Yee
Seh Tah’s armies!” A brief cheer, mostly from the younger
retainers. Katla was impressed that the Drakes held Sven in high
enough appraisal to name him.
It is funny
that Seh Tah, means Stubborn Fire.
“Any
other mobilized wave will have to be recalled, and while they
mobilize, wait, march, return and disband, our fields and shops are
empty.”

He stepped back. Katla stepped forward
before any other delegate could consider a response.

“The Delegates recognize Yee Ka Lah, bearer
of Domin’s Favor.”

“Yee Ka Lah thanks Doh Zue Sah and all the
Delegates for this opportunity to speak.” She nodded to Goh Soh,
and spoke loudly and clearly. “While it is true the Yee’s great
city has never endured more than five waves, much has changed. Yee
Seh Tah has convinced the Yee that he is the chosen one of their
gods — the one who will defeat the Mass. Every Yee wields magic,
because of Yee Seh Tah.”

She pointed to one of the gobbel delegates,
Hue Ta Heh, drawing his complete attention. The Hue had lived in
the Morden Moors, what became the Takraf Protectorates. “The Hue
well know what magic Seh Tah teaches his students. Drakes will die
without ever seeing their enemies, and those who reach Yee towns
will not find them easy prey.”

“Yee Ka Lah speaks truly,” Ta Heh said. “Yee
Seh Tah as a child invaded us and pushed us out of our homeland. If
all Yee children are as him now, we are in danger.”

Zue Sah glared at Katla and Ta Heh, thumping
the staff against the growing uproar.

“Yee Ka Lah and Hue Ta Heh are out of
order!” she cried, but Katla pushed forward.

“The Tee and Zeh might think sending twenty
waves is a waste of energy! The Joh may fear the Thirteenth Wave
will never know battle! But I warn you that Yee Roh Yeh was right
to fear Yee Seh Tah, for he wields power far greater than you can
imagine.”

Yee Roh Yeh. Brack, my old
master. You did well,
Katla
thought.

The room calmed down, and even Zue Sah
lowered her staff. The glower remained, though.

Now to set them on
fire.
Katla raised her hands. “He has
united the Yee in common cause against the Mass and given them
magic! Do not send a mere twenty waves against the Yee capital,
Delegates. Do not send a third of your strength.”

She lowered her hands into the silence, and
spoke in barely a whisper as sweat streamed down her own brow.

“This time, the Mass will need to send all
three hundred waves against the Yee.”

She paused. The murmurs
began again: A Yee asking for all Yee to be destroyed? And she
thought,
Hopefully, at least some of them
recognize my bluff.

Doh Zue Sah, in calm anger, raised her staff
to question Katla.

“And should the Delegates choose not to, Yee
Ka Lah?” she asked. “If we send only twenty waves, and they are
defeated, how will the Yee react?”

It was a ridiculous
question, and the Delegates all sat in shock. The Mass, defeated?
At all? Katla smiled grimly.
Yet they
entertained the idea of it.

“Delegates,” she said. “If such an
impossibility were to occur, the Yee would not rest until the Mass
is never a threat to them again. Do not let it happen. If you are
not willing to spend every drop of your people’s blood in this war,
then allow me to negotiate a peace with Mardux Sven Takraf.”

Her choice to use his Mar name proved
powerful as again the room filled with the whispered discussions of
the Delegates and their contingents.

“The Delegates recognize Hue Ta Heh.”

“The delegate from the Hue thanks Doh Zue
Sah and all the delegates for granting him this audience. ...”

After that, the meeting progressed quickly.
Of course the situation had been oversimplified: The waves would
not all be directed at Domus Palus. The Hue and their gobbel
brethren, the Gue, of the Twentieth Wave, would attack the
Protectorates as the farthest east assault force. The Tenth Wave
would move earlier, thus forcing the Tee’s proposal for more time
from the floor. The Tenth Wave would attack along the
Domus-Protectorate front, to push south and cut off any other
aid.

Nor would they heed Katla’s advice for a
peace treaty or bring the whole Mass to bear, neither of which she
had really wanted anyway. She left the meeting with some sense of
accomplishment, though they had also called for the mobilization of
the next twenty waves. The factions within the Drake species were
easy to push and pull, and while she was here she would push and
pull them.

The greatest weapon I have is encouraging
dissent.

 

 

 

Chapter 37


Perhaps the greatest irony of the
marsord is that those who can afford to own one are those least
likely to use it, and those who would put it to the use for which
it was clearly designed are not likely even to see one. A weard
must not be like a marsord. Power serves no function if it is not
employed to a constructive end.”

— Nightfire Tradition,

Ethics of Magic

Finn Ochregut wore a marsord because he had
been at the right place at the right time. He had taken it from Dux
Yver Verlren when the adepts had drugged and captured the wizards
in the citadel of Domus Palus. Finn had ordered Piljerka’s ruler
confined to a tower cell — he had overheard something about
teleportation being limited by height. The weapon pressed
uncomfortably against his leg now.

I am probably the only mapmaker who has ever
taken a marsord from a vanquished red.

He sat in the Chair and sweated, waiting for
the endless line of advisors and petitioners who would soon come to
him. Finn knew it was an empty gesture. The adepts who sought to
counsel him knew no more about readying a city for war than Finn
did. They would tell him the same things today as they had every
other day.

Mardux, come back. Someone needs to rule
these people! I have no idea what I’m doin’!

The reports began, and they were the same,
no one sought a solution.

Weard Salt spoke of the reconnaissance
stone. A sizeable Drake army, possibly the Mass, would arrive in
three days. A small force of adepts harried it from the flanks, but
remained near the Lapis Amnis. Someone suggested this meant more
Drakes were coming, and the room erupted in discussion, punctuated
with the normal, unalterable news.

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