The Oracle's Queen (21 page)

“Illardi, do you have maps and sea charts of that area?” asked Tharin.

“Of course. I'll fetch them at once.”

Tamír turned impatiently to Arkoniel as she waited. “You said you had magic that could help. Couldn't you board one of the ships the same way you caught up with us that night on the road to Atyion?”

Arkoniel considered the idea. “Perhaps, if I could get a clear idea of where one was. But even if I did manage not
to end up in the sea instead, it would be impossible to do it quietly. You saw how violent the transition is. Someone would be bound to see me hurtling out of thin air. And I can only cast that sort of magic on myself every few days. It takes a great deal of strength to cast and control. I wouldn't be able to get back to you, even if it all worked.”

“I thought you said this Third Orëska of yours is supposed to serve Tamír?” Kyman growled.

Arkoniel gave him a pained smile. “I didn't say I wouldn't serve. I was just pointing out the flaws of that particular spell for such a purpose.”

Just then Kiriar came running into the hall. “Lady Iya has found the enemy!”

Ki and the wizards followed as Tamír left Tharin in charge in the audience chamber and hurried upstairs to Iya's chamber. They found her at her window, a crystal wand held loosely in her hands where they rested on the sill. Her eyes were closed, yet she still seemed to be looking out across the sea. Tamír couldn't help doing the same, half-expecting to see sails beyond the mouth of the cove. “Do you see them?” she asked softly.

Iya nodded and opened her eyes. “A glimpse just now. I counted thirty warships, loaded with armed men. I'd guess two thousand men-at-arms, at the very least. They're well west of the islands. They could be here by tonight if they are sailing for Ero. It's too soon to tell.”

“I think I know where they're headed—” It still felt very odd saying it. “From the vision. They're landing in the same place they did before.”

“Tamír's given me rather a good idea,” Arkoniel told her. “How is your Plenimaran these days?”

“Still quite fluent,” Iya replied.

“Good. Mine was never very good.” Arkoniel gave Tamír a wink. “I think you've seen this spell before, too. I must ask you all to be very quiet now. Sound carries with this one. Iya, where are they?”

“West and south of Little Crowberry Island. Do you remember the oak grove on the point there?”

“Ah, yes.” He closed his eyes and pressed his palms together in front of him. His lips moved soundlessly for a moment, then he slowly opened his palms. A tiny circle of light appeared between them, hanging in the air. Tamír and the others moved to look over his shoulder.

“Look through, Tamír,” he whispered. “What do you see?”

It was like looking through a knothole in a fence. She leaned closer and caught a glimpse of shimmering blue. There were sounds, too, like rushing water and the cry of seabirds. Without thinking, she moved around him for a better look.

“Don't touch,” Arkoniel warned.

He moved his hands and the circle widened to a hand-breadth. It was a window, and through it, they could see a bird's-eye view of open sea, with the dark line of a wooded island in the distance. Arkoniel murmured softly and the view shifted dizzyingly. Tamír caught sight of many ships floating like toys far below.

“There they are!” Arkoniel exclaimed softly, sounding a bit surprised and rather pleased with himself. “Found them on the first try, too. We're far enough away to be safe. They can't hear us way up here.”

“They can see back through it, and hear too, can't they?”

“Yes, that's why I have to be very careful. We don't want to give ourselves away.”

Carefully manipulating the spell, he guided the “window” down to what appeared to be the flagship. Barefoot sailors were busy on deck and in the sheets, but there were other men lounging at the rail and around the deck, men who wore the boots of soldiers. Arkoniel spied a pair who appeared to be officers and carefully brought the narrowed window up behind them. They were talking in low voices. It was difficult to hear them over the rush of waves under
the keel and what Tamír could make out was in a language she did not speak.

Iya listened intently for a moment, then shook her head and motioned for Arkoniel to end the spell.

“At the moment the tall one's bragging about some horses he's bought,” she said. “It's a good spell though, and a good idea. We will try again in a little while.”

“Maybe you should show this to some of our nobles,” Ki said. “The ones who were doubting whether wizards would be of use, anyway.”

“Yes, perhaps we can change their minds when they see how useful your magic is,” Tamír agreed.

“Better not to,” Iya replied. “It's a useful spell, and not only against foreign enemies. First and foremost, Tamír, we serve you. It might be best if others did not know that we can watch them like this.”

“There's also the danger that someone versed in magic might recognize it as something other than an Orëska-derived spell,” Arkoniel added. “You two are used to Lhel and her ways. But you know how most people feel about her kind and their magic.”

“They think that it's necromancy,” Ki replied.

“Yes, and Tamír can afford no taint of that.”

“Have you taught this spell to any of your other wizards here?” Tamír asked.

“No, not this one.”

“Do you watch them, too, then?”

“No, for none of them have given me any reason to. Without trust, we can't hope to achieve the sort of unity Iya foresaw. But I would not hesitate to do so if I thought any of them were secretly disloyal. As Iya said, our loyalty is to you, and you alone, even before Skala.”

“So only the two of you know this spell?”

“These wizards from Ero still know nothing of Lhel, and for now, that's best,” Iya told her.

“Those I gathered at the keep do, though,” said Arkoniel. “Lhel was with us for a time.”

Tamír nodded, considering all this. “I won't have you using that kind of watching spell on me. Give me your word on that.”

Both wizards pressed their hands to their hearts and gave their oaths.

“You have my word as your friend, too,” Arkoniel added earnestly. “We will find other ways to watch over you. We always have.”

“My secret watchers, eh?”

Iya smiled. “Those who watch on your behalf.”

“Very well. Now, what's this magic you're so anxious to show me, Arkoniel?”

“Come down to the courtyard.”

“I've spent a great deal of time, pondering how to combine spells to the best offensive advantage,” he explained. “I believe I've hit upon a few that will be most effective, and they take only a few of us rather than exhausting all of us at once, as that spell before the gates did.”

In the courtyard they found Hain and Saruel waiting next to a burning brazier. The man held a bow, and a space had been cleared and a round wooden target set up for a shooting list.

“You're joining my archers?” Tamír asked, curious.

“No, Majesty,” he replied, handing the bow to her, and an arrow with a bit of oil-soaked rag wrapped around the head. “If you would be so kind as to assist us in our demonstration?”

“Fire, that's the key,” Arkoniel explained. “Step over here.”

He led her away from the target so that she was facing the wooden curtain wall.

Ki looked around. “She's facing away from your target.”

Arkoniel's grin widened as he lit the tip of her arrow with a snap of his fingers. “You only think she is. Get ready to draw on my word, Tamír.”

He moved a few yards away and wove a pattern on the air with his wand.

A small circle of blackness appeared out of thin air near the tip of his wand. At his silent command, it dilated until it was about two feet across. He stepped back. “At this close range, that should be an easy target for a skilled archer like you. If you would?”

Tamír drew and let fly. The flaming shaft struck the black circle dead center and disappeared into it. The circle winked out of existence, leaving no trace of the arrow behind. It should have been quivering in the wooden wall a few yards away, but it had disappeared without a trace.

“Now, if you'd step back to the target,” Arkoniel said.

The burning arrow was embedded dead center in the wooden target, the shaft and fletching already charring black. The thick wood of the target began to smoke as they watched, then burst into flame.

“Saruel added a nice bit of magic to the oil,” Arkoniel explained.

“Yes, anything it touches once it is ignited will burn quite intensely,” the Khatme woman said. “It is very dangerous, not to be handled carelessly.”

“Bilairy's balls!” Ki laughed. “So you can send an arrow anywhere you like, and it will set whatever it hits on fire? That's a neat trick.”

Tamír took in the impossible trajectory of the shaft. “How is that possible?”

“It's just the translocation spell. I visualize where I want an object to go and that's where it comes out. A normal flame is snuffed out in the transition, but Saruel's spell makes it strong enough to survive. Well, most of the time, anyway.”

“And you are certain it will work against the ships?”

Arkoniel rubbed at his beard, eyeing the burning target. “Reasonably so, based on the tries we've made so far.”

“Amazing,” Tamír said, genuinely impressed.

“That is his gift,” Iya said proudly. “He's already come
up with ideas I'd never have dreamed of. Or anyone else, it seems.”

“Even in Aurënen, no one has ever made such a spell as this,” said Saruel. “The Lightbearer has touched him with special sight.”

“How did my uncle ever dare to turn his back on that immortal?”

“We've seen what comes of that,” Iya said. “You are already healing the land and restoring Illior's favor. And you have Sakor's as well. They are the patrons of Skala, and you embody them both. That is no accident.”

T
here was no time to assemble their full force. Even if there had been, Tamír was unwilling to leave Ero completely open to attack on the strength of a single vision. She sent mounted messengers up and down the coast, raising the alarm and summoning more reinforcements from Atyion. There were three nobles with estates within half a day's ride, but one was already here with his fifty men and the other two had made no effort to acknowledge Tamír's claim to the throne.

She gathered her generals in Illardi's library and consulted his maps.

“It's deep water here where you think they'll arrive, and a long smooth beach for landing,” Illardi said, pointing to the area in question. “Lots of room to beach longboats or ferry in horses. They'll most likely rely on swordsmen and archers, and may shoot from the boats as they come in. They're masters at that.”

“
If
they come in,” said Ki. “If I found myself facing a massed army, I'd withdraw.”

“Not if you were a Plenimaran,” Tharin pointed out. “Their Overlord is unforgiving if his orders aren't carried out to the fullest, no matter what the cost.”

Jorvai nodded. “That's true. In any case, though, the open beach still works to our advantage.”

“We can mass our archers to the fore, with the cavalry behind,” said Tamír. “Their archers will be scattered and shooting from unsteady boats. No matter how skilled they are, that won't help their aim. For all the history lessons old
Raven gave us, I don't recall one battle where the enemy won the advantage with that kind of assault.”

“Don't underestimate them,” Tharin warned. “I hate to praise an enemy, but I've fought them all my life and they come by their reputation honestly. They're as fearless as they are brutal.”

“Then we'll make certain the tide comes in red with their blood.” Tamír turned to the others. “With warriors like you at my back and Illior on our side, how can we fail?”

In the end, she decided on two hundred mounted archers and five hundred more armed riders. Jorvai and Kyman would lead the two wings. She would command the center, with Tharin and her Companions, together with Nyanis and her Atyion companies. Illardi would remain at Ero, to protect the city.

When they'd finished she sent the generals back to their camps but remained in the library with Tharin and her Companions, fanning herself with a folded map. The day had turned out hot.

“So, have you all found squires for yourselves?” she asked. “You'll be needing them.”

“We have, Majesty,” said Nikides. “I'll send for them and their kin, for the investiture.”

I
ya had suggested privately that it would be wise to promote the kin of Tamír's allies to the Companions. Tamír had agreed and was pleased to find Illardi, Kyman, and one of Jorvai's knights all waiting solemnly in the sweltering hall. With them stood two boys and a girl, dressed in full armor in spite of the heat.

The first presented was Illardi's eldest son, tall, dark-eyed Lorin. He was a good choice; she'd seen the boy sparring in the practice yard and he had skill. The other two were strangers, but looked steady and strong. They all seemed young, and none of them had earned their braids
yet, but she'd been younger than them when she'd joined Korin's Companions.

“Arkoniel had a word with them earlier, too,” Tharin whispered to her. “He was pleased.”

Not standing on ceremony, she joined them by the hearth. “Companions, present your choices.”

Nikides had precedence by birth. “Majesty, I present Lorin, son of the Duke Illardi, and humbly request you accept his service as a squire among the Companions.”

“Do you desire to serve in this manner?” she asked the boy. Lorin immediately fell to one knee and presented his blade. “With all my heart!”