Shadow Magic (24 page)

“Coldwell Pass should be right about here,” the Trader went on. “If we march north to meet them, we can surprise them, provided we time it right.”

“It may work,” Har said.

“We haven’t decided yet that we will try this,” Bracor cautioned. “The hour grows late; I suggest we return to this matter in the morning.”

There were murmurs of agreement, and the Lord of Brenn turned to Rialla. “If I may ask your aid, lady, I would request that you question the common soldiers to try and confirm the theories you have heard.”

Rialla simply nodded.

“Then, by your leave my lords, I would end this meeting until tomorrow.”

Heads nodded in agreement, but it was not so simple to put an end to the discussion, and it was some while before the room was emptied. The military men lingered to discuss Maurin’s proposal and to put forward theories of their own as to the Lithmern army’s probable movements.

The following day, Har and Maurin found themselves with the unenviable task of selecting possible messengers and preparing them for their respective journeys. The assembled heads of the Wyrds, the Shee, and the army of Brenn had decided that there was too little time for Gahlon to visit each of the Alkyran nobles individually, and so a team of messengers consisting of one of each race was to be sent instead. It took most of the day to find sixty men, Wyrds, and Shee who were acceptable to everyone and also willing to carry such potentially explosive news to the lords of Alkyra, but by late that evening the messengers were on their way.

The Lords Armin and Gahlon, too, spent the day preparing to leave Brenn. Rialla and the other Veldatha wizards had succeeded in piecing together most of the Lithmern’s movements up to the attack on Brenn, as well as some part of their future plans, from the common soldiers who had been left unprotected by the mind-destroying spell. The picture was grim enough to make the Alkyran nobles anxious to start their own preparations at home. They left the next day, each with Wyrd and Shee soldiers accompanying them as unofficial ambassadors.

Preparations for the coming battle began at once. Daily infantry drills started as soon as the grim task of disposing of the bodies around the walls was finished. Bracor, Herre, and Grathwol lost no time in setting up combination exercises with groups of soldiers, archers, and cavalry, for the process of integrating the three forces would be difficult and time was limited.

One of the first actions of the newly combined forces was to send Murn with a mixed group to the mountains around Coldwell Pass to begin preparations for the army and to send scouts out to keep abreast of the Lithmern movements. They were accompanied by one of the Veldatha, who would notify the allies if the Lithmern appeared to be moving before they were expected.

The other wizards remained in Brenn. Beside providing a means of communication with both Eveleth and Coldwell Pass, the Veldatha were experimenting cautiously with ways of piercing the black curtain that hid Lithra from their spells. Similar attempts were underway in Eveleth, and the two groups communicated daily regarding the success or failure of their various trials.

The few reports that trickled out of Lithra were highly disturbing. In the second week after the Battle of Brenn, a small group of Lithmern were intercepted at Coldwell Pass. They proved to be farmers and tradesmen, refugees fleeing the terror of the Shadow-born. Murn questioned them closely and sent them to Brenn under guard while the little group at the pass prepared for a torrent of fugitives that never materialized.

The deficiency of refugees was nearly as disturbing as the tale the successful escapees told on reaching Brenn. Herre’s guess had been correct; the Shadow-born had grown too powerful for the Lithmern sorcerers to hold. They were free at last, and rapidly molding Lithra to form of their own choosing.

Whispers of an army of soulless ones began to circulate. The soldiers of Brenn, who had been more than a little uneasy with the Shee and the Wyrds, began to look with more favor on their magical allies. The troops that the other nobles of Alkyra were sending would be welcome, but if they were going to face magic, the Brenn soldiers felt more comfortable with a little magic on their own side, even though the Shee soldiers were inclined to be arrogant and standoffish when they were not on the battlefield.

The return of Bracor’s messengers was anxiously awaited, but the first to reappear did not bring the hoped-for promise of aid. As the negatives continued to arrive, a cold dread began to envelop the city.

The weather, too, was unseasonably cold. Farmers spat and talked of early snows, and the steward of Styr Tel shook his head anxiously and made daily checks on the great storage bins that held the city’s winter supplies. The army was more cheerful; the consensus was that marching to Coldwell Pass would be much more comfortable in the cooler temperatures than in the high heat that normally prevailed.

Another event that raised the spirits of the army was the arrival of the troops from Meridel at the beginning of the third week. Gabion had wasted no time in fulfilling his part of the agreement. He also reported that he had persuaded at least two other nobles to send support, but that he considered their motives suspect.

The new arrivals were not pleased to find that the rumors of strange beings in Brenn were true. The haughty Shee and the fierce, cheerful Wyrds made them even more uneasy than they had made the army of Brenn. Despite the protests of Gahlon’s officers, Bracor mingled the newcomers with some of the Shee and Wyrds almost at once. “Your men will be fighting magic,” Bracor told the angry officers. “The sooner they become accustomed to seeing it about them, the better chance we have to win this war.”

The veterans of the Battle of Brenn scoffed openly at the qualms of the Meridel men, which did little to improve their tempers. “You wait until you see them Lithmern marching up all long and nasty,” a Brenn soldier told the newcomer with whom he was sharing evening sentry duty just outside the eastern walls. “You’ll be glad then of some a them furry ones with the bows, no mistake.”

“Huh,” said the other man skeptically. “I ain’t never going to be glad of them creatures. Or them snooty, slanty-eyed ones.”

“Then you’ll be heading back for Meridel afore that moon gets full again,” the Brenn man said pointing at the half circle of Elewyth that was just rising over the river. “Lord Bracor don’t want nobody along what ain’t friendly with them magic folks.”

“You mean to say I marched here double-time from Meridel just to turn around and march back?” the other said indignantly.

“That’s what I hear,” the first man said.

“That ain’t no way to run a war,” the Meridel man said fervently. “It just ain’t—what’s that?

“What?” The Brenn man spun, looking carefully around. “I don’t see nothing.”

“I heard something, by the river,” the other sentry said.

The first man looked again, then shook his head. “You’re nervy, that’s what,” he said. “There ain’t nothing—” He stopped in mid-sentence, and his jaw dropped.

The shining ribbon that was the river was swirling and boiling near the bank, though an instant before it had been calm. The surface broke, and sheets of liquid moonlight streamed from three figures standing waist deep in the shallow water near the riverbank. Each held a slender spear, and even when the water had ceased running from their shoulders, the figures gleamed in the moonlight.

The two sentries stared; finally the Brenn man stepped forward. “H-halt and state your b-business,” he said.

There was a laugh like wind on crystal chimes, and the foremost figure said, “If this is Brenn, there is work for us here. I am Larissalama of the Neira; I believe your Lord Bracor expects us.”

“That’s as may be,” the sentry said austerely, having somewhat recovered from his surprise. “I’ll send a message, but I can’t let you into the city without I get orders.”

The laugh rang once more. “Send your message; we shall wait.”

Near the end of the third week of preparations, Bracor summoned Har and Maurin to his study. They arrived to find Bracor and Herre deep in conversation. Har coughed ostentatiously and Bracor looked up.

“Come in; seat yourselves,” he said, waving to the other chairs. “We have been waiting.”

“Not too long, I hope,” Har said. “We came as soon as the message reached us.

“Commendable promptness,” said Herre dryly. Har looked at the Shee commander curiously, then turned back to his father. “What did you want to see us about?

“I would like you and Maurin to return to Eveleth,” Bracor said. He glanced aside at Herre who frowned but made no comment. “I want you to escort Alethia when she leaves.”

“There is so much to do here!” Har said, a little dismayed. “Surely she could stay until after we… have finished with the Lithmern. Unless…” He looked at Herre.

“No, this is not my suggestion,” Herre said, a bit abruptly. “Alethia is welcome in Eveleth for as long as she wishes.”

“Then I would think Eveleth a safer place for her than Brenn,” Maurin put in diffidently.

“Eveleth may be safe, but I would prefer more distance between Alethia and the Shadow-born,” Bracor replied. “Especially since the Veldatha and most of the Shee troops will be with us at Coldwell Pass, and not at Eveleth. And by now the Shadow-born know they can find her in Eveleth. You must remove her.”

“But is Brenn likely to be any safer?” Har pointed out.

“I do not intend for you to bring Alethia to Brenn,” Bracor said. “You will travel from Eveleth to Wentholm.”

“I do not approve of this move,” Herre put in. “But I will give you a small guard until you reach Eveleth. We have few men to spare, you understand.” The Shee Commander rose and bowed gracefully. “I must go; there are other claims on my attention.”

When the door had closed behind Herre, Har shook his head slightly. “But why—” he began, then stopped and bit his lip.

“You were chosen for the obvious reasons,” Bracor said, smiling. “You have been to Eveleth, and I can trust you. I do not want Alethia to escape the Lithmera only to be held hostage by some angry Alkyran lord.”

“Is that really to be feared?” Maurin asked.

“Unfortunately, I think it is,” said Bracor. “I did not really believe that the Conclave of First Lords was so lost to reason that they could not see the threat that the Lithmern pose, but most of the nobles who have sent replies seem to think Brenn is the threat, not Lithra.”

“Surely the Regent can make them see reason.”

Bracor shrugged. “Perhaps, but it will be a month yet before we know how he sees matters, and by then it will make no difference. Either the Lithmern will be defeated, or they will be overrunning Alkyra; in either case our claims are proven.”

“Have none of the lords any sense?” demanded Har.

“A few,” said his father with a wry smile. “First Lord Thielen of Wentholm is sending us four thousand men; I only hope they arrive in time.”

“That is why you are sending Alethia to Wentholm!” exclaimed Har in sudden enlightenment.

Bracor nodded. “Nonetheless, Gahlon has made me cautious, and I want at least a few there whom I know I can trust. Isme and Tatia will be leaving in a few days. I have already made the arrangements.”

But when the gentle Lady of Brenn was informed of her husband’s plans, she flatly refused to leave the city. She had no objection to sending Tatia to a safer place, but she herself would remain in Brenn. “How would it look for the Lady of Brenn to flee before danger is even close?” she asked.

“Close!” exclaimed Bracor in exasperation. “I would think a siege of the city more than close enough to suit you.

“But the siege has been lifted,” Isme pointed out. “Besides, who will take charge of Brenn while you are gone? The city does not run itself.”

Bracor sighed. “I want you and Tatia in a safer place than this,” he said after a moment. “If the Lithmern defeat us at Coldwell, Brenn will be the first city to fall.”

“If you are defeated at Coldwell Pass, it will not matter where I am,” Isme said. “And if I am here, you will not have to leave one of the Veldatha in Brenn to let you know what is happening.”

“Isme—” Bracor shook his head. “I suppose there is no help for it; I can hardly force you to go.”

“I am glad you see the wisdom of my viewpoint,” Isme said serenely.

Her husband tried unsuccessfully to repress a smile. “It takes very little wisdom to realize that if I did try to compel you, you would find some way out of it.”

“Very likely,” Isme said. “But send Tatia by all means.” She stroked her youngest child’s braids reflectively as she spoke. Tatia was seated in Isme’s lap, playing with a string of colored beads, but at her mother’s touch she looked up.

“Won’t go,” she said matter-of-factly, and returned to her beads.

“Of course you will go, Tatia,” Isme said. “You would like to travel all by yourself, wouldn’t you? And Wentholm is a very pretty place, and you will meet Alethia there.

“ ’Lethia’s not going to Wentholm,” Tatia announced. “So I’m not either.”

Bracor burst out laughing. “It seems no one in this family can be convinced to move out of danger! But you at least will go to Wentholm, Tatia, if only to get you out of your mother’s way.”

“Won’t go!” Tatia reiterated, eyeing her parents with a decidedly martial light in her eyes. Having had experience with Tatia’s tantrums, Isme thought it best to postpone further discussion, and effectively ended the conversation by carrying Tatia off to bed.

Har and Maurin left for Eveleth the next day. Word of Isme’s refusal to leave the city was already circulating. “And I doubt we’ll have any better luck with Alethia, once she knows what we’re there for,” Har told Maurin as they rode through Brenn. “She can be more stubborn than Mother!”

“Alethia has a good deal of sense,” Maurin said. “I don’t think we’ll have as much trouble as you fear.”

“Sure, and every grain of sense she has will tell her that Wentholm is no safer than Eveleth, and maybe less,” retorted Har. “I wouldn’t be surprised if she insisted on going to Coldwell Pass to be with the army. Father must be batty to think we can persuade her.”

With this unfilial observation, Har turned his horse, and the two men rode out of Brenn to meet the Shee guardsmen Herre had assigned to them.