Set in Stone (46 page)

Because he owed it to his country, that's why. Then why did he feel like such a betrayer for doing it?

Despondent, he shuffled across camp to where Tomas and the Fast Rollers were gathered around a small fire at the edge of the clearing where Rory's strike force bunked. He'd been so sure in town that he could make a difference, but he wondered if he was just kidding himself.

If full-scale battle was joined, his father would surely die. His family might be killed also, as would Hamish and Jean. So many people depended on him. He could not just give up. There had to be a way.

Connor dropped to onto a log near the fire beside Tomas, and the big soldier said, "I'm surprised you chose to sit with us lowly Fast Rollers, lad."

"Why wouldn't I? I'm one of you, aren't I?"

"Are you?" Tomas' voice was not entirely friendly. Neither were the looks cast at him from the other men. The unexpectedly cool reception on top of everything else triggered Connor's anger.

He snapped, "I am, unless you want to show me why I'm not?" At that moment, he would have eagerly fought the big Guardian.

Tomas laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "That's the spirit of a Fast Roller, lad." The other men in the group seemed pleased by his reaction too.

They were all insane.

Connor's anger faded, "Look, Tomas, if I've offended you all somehow, I apologize. It's been kind of a rough day. I don't understand most of what's going on."

Tomas said, "Not to worry, lad. Guess I'm just too thin-skinned."

One of the other Fast Rollers piped in, "Aye, and dim-witted too."

Tomas barked a laugh. "Ha, Cameron! And you're the one who actually thinks the granite powder comes from beating on rocks with a hammer."

Connor looked from Tomas to Cameron's wide, brutish face, to see if they were making fun of him. "Uh, he's right."

The look of shock on Tomas' face drove Connor into a fit of laughter, joined by all of the other Guardians. Tomas' disbelief turned to outrage.

"That's not how they do it where I come from!"

Connor wiped his eyes. "Where are you from?"

"Raineach. It's a city far to the south."

"What do they quarry there?"

"Well, nothing really, not in the city. It's a trading center. But there's sandstone mines to the west, and a granite mine northwest. Lots of stones come to Raineach for processing."

"So how do they process granite down there?"

Tomas looked from Connor to Cameron, who was still wiping his eyes and said in a far more subdued voice, "Well, I always thought . . . oh, never mind!"

Connor decided to change the subject, although he made a mental note to draw Tomas aside at some point and ask him more about Raineach. "So why did you think I didn't want to be a Fast Roller?"

Tomas spoke around a bite of roasted meat. "You chose basalt." The other Fast Rollers looked disgusted at this. "Figured you were turning your back on granite."

"How could I? I've been Cursed with granite all my life."

"That long?"

"As long as I can remember. Why?"

Tomas waved aside the question. "Now you know what it is, why not stick with it?"

Connor paused as all of the fears rushed back, fear of not gaining Patronage, of losing control, of hurting others. Fear of having to leave his family. Forget the new fears for his family's safety. Suddenly he was relieved to get a chance to talk with this solid warrior.

"It's just, my Curse has always been a problem. The few times I tried to use it I only made things worse. I didn't want to do that again last night."

"I can respect that lad, but it's not the curse that brings the luck."

"No, it ain't," agreed Cameron. "The luck comes with how you use it."

Connor didn't believe it. He'd seen what his Curse did to discount it too easily. "Anyway, looks like I've got this Guardian-Agor affinity to explore too. I wanted to try out different things."

Tomas leaned in closer and said in a low, serious voice. "Have a care with that, lad."

"Why?"

"Captain Rory's warned you of the dangers."

"He said there are dangers."

"Aye. Use caution. For sure you've got to explore what you can do, but have a care. We know you, and we'll stand with you." The other Guardians all nodded assent. "But don't count on other companies doing the same."

"Why not?"

"Don't be daft, boy. It's human nature to resent success that comes too easy. You don't want enemies here in Carbrey's camp."

Connor wanted to scoff, but then he thought of Cinaed and her long-standing jealousy of his mother.

As he considered, Tomas continued. "Only a fraction of all Guardians gain even a weak secondary affinity. I've been trying for years, and I can barely light limestone enough to see my way on a cloudy day."

Cameron opened his mouth, but Tomas turned and snapped, "Leave off."

Cameron muttered something about Tomas' mother and confusion about which end to wrap with the swaddling clothes.

Tomas ignored him. "Don't you see the problem, lad? You walk in here and start healing like you're born to it."

"It's not that simple."

"Be that as it may, lad, keep your eyes open. You have a rare talent, and it'll come in handy in the war, no doubt. But don't make enemies where you could make friends."

"You make it sound easy."

"Hardly that. Just don't flaunt your talent so much." Tomas clapped him on the shoulder and gestured toward the roasted meat. "Help yourself, lad. We're in for a long wait."

After eating for a few minutes, Connor glanced at the distant command tent, "Tomas, what do you think they're talking about?"

"Battle strategy, of course."

"Won't they just launch a full attack like last time?" He inwardly cringed to say it aloud. So many lives hung in the balance.

Tomas surprised him by shaking his head. "Can't. Not yet anyway. Don't know the enemy well enough."

"I saw them. We outnumber them by at least four to one."

"Aye, but it's not the regulars that win battles, lad." Tomas tapped the side of his nose with one finger, "Battles with Guardians and Petralists are different. It's all about strategy, about which side best allocates their talent."

"I don't understand."

"Think about it, lad. That clever Captain Ilse, Tallan take her eyes, gave us a solid thumping, and we outnumbered her by lots more. How'd she do that?"

"She prepared, and she used Verena's powers."

"Aye, that Builder's proven to be a real thorn. She's a new element to the whole puzzle, and makes it more complicated, but doesn't change the basic challenge. Ilse beat us because she applied her powers best."

Tomas nodded toward the command tent. "Now Carbrey and his captains need to outwit the Old Wolf. General and he have been playing this game a long time. There's no one better than Wolfram at deploying his Petralists."

Connor had already seen how much damage Kilian could do, and he expected Gregor or Anton could destroy entire companies of regulars if left unchecked. Then again, if Tomas and enough Fast Rollers could ever close with Ilse, surely they could finally beat her.

He sat back and considered the challenge, and his head swam with all the variables, and he didn't even know all the stones and their powers yet.

"So how will he do it?"

Tomas shrugged and spat into the fire. "Reckon I don’t know. Strategy's never been my strength."

Cameron piped in, "Can you even count to five?"

"Shut it, or I'll crack your face."

Cameron laughed. "Couldn't do nothing but make me prettier."

Tomas leaned closer to Connor and said softly, "When I'm not wearing gloves I can get to ten, no problem." He poked the fire and spoke more to himself, "It's no easy chore. That Kilian'll be a problem. We got no Spitter to counter him. Gregor's good, top of his game, but he's got Anton to deal with." He made a low whistle.

"They got Wingrunners, at least four," Cameron said.

"Striders'll do for them." Tomas grinned at Connor. "That's a sight, lad, mark my words."

"Aye, you get a chance to see a running battle, make sure you do," Cameron said.

Tomas wagged a thick finger at Connor. "Mind, now. Just cause you run fast don't make you a Strider. Don't meddle in a running battle. Ain't no place for one not knowing what to do."

Connor wondered what it would be like to see Wingrunners and Striders racing full tilt across the plateau, slinging stones or whipping meteor hammers at each other. One Wingrunner alone had played a huge part in blocking Rory's first assault.

How much damage could a full squad do?

Cameron said, "You saw them good, lad. See any Flameweavers?"

"I have no idea."

"Captain Aonghus could handle it if they do," Tomas said, "but trick's in ferreting them out."

Cameron added, "I'm glad we got Blades. Sounds like Wolfram brought his Allcarvers."

"Blades?" Connor asked.

"Them Captains with twin swords."

Tomas shuddered, "That's a pair I'd not mess with."

"What's their affinity?"

"Obsidian." Cameron said. "Enhances their natural talents."

Tomas nodded, "Aye, those two are among the best swordsmen in the realm. When they tap obsidian they could cut down every last regular to a man."

"Could even drop a few Rumblers, probably," Cameron said.

"But you've got granite," Connor protested.

"Gainst them, don't matter," Tomas said with a snort. "They'd carve out your eyes, and while you're screaming, they'd shove a sword down your throat."

Cameron pointed a smoking stick at Connor, "You can't imagine how fast and how accurate they are. I've seen one cut a granite statue clean in half."

Tomas gestured at the gathered Fast Rollers. "We've been trained to deal with them, but I'd still not want to face Wolfram's Allcarvers with just the six of us. We might win, but we'd pay dear for it."

Cameron jammed his stick back into the fire. "When the Blades meet the Allcarvers, just stay clear."

Tomas pulled more meat from the spit. "Well that's it, lad. All their strategizing boils down to them questions."

"So that's all the Petralists?" Connor asked.

"Nay, lad, but all we expect to see from your description. Still, general needs to figure out how to draw out Wolfram's Petralists and shut them down, and we get our bash-fight and win this war." He punctuated the last sentence by slamming one heavy fist into his other palm.

Cameron saluted the distant command tent. "Here's hoping General gets it right!"

Connor raised his fist with the others, winning approving nods, but his heart wasn't in it. As the Fast Rollers started talking amongst themselves about the best strategies for beating Grandurian Rumblers, Connor couldn't shake a growing conviction that a simple bash-fight would be the last thing they'd get.

Chapter 52

"You're Hamish, right?"

Despite the pleasant tone of the voice, Hamish jumped. The pitchfork load of manure he had been throwing toward a two-wheeled cart missed and struck Stuart in the side of the head. The brawny fellow rounded on Hamish, but an angry curse died on his lips.

Hamish was surprised to find a very cute girl with huge blue eyes, dressed in the fine clothes of a noble, standing behind him. Her friendly smile and slight inquisitive tilt to her head eased some of the tension knotting his muscles since reporting for service at the manor house an hour ago.

He bowed. "I am Hamish, my lady."

She flashed a dazzling smile and took his hand. "I've heard so much about you. Come."

As she led him toward the south side of the manor, Hamish glanced back. Stuart stared after him, disbelief on his manure-covered face.

Hamish grinned, straightened his shoulders and walked more confidently behind the cute Grandurian.