Varna Ch 15

VARNA Chapter 15

"I found Gedere." she said.

Gedere

. My father's conservative poet, but also the close companion and hatchet-man of my brother Nathal. It was Gedere who had organized the attempt on my life while I was in the baths. He'd escaped from Whydah; now we knew where he'd gone.

Glasha had taken quite a risk by searching for him. Time-walking relies on the walker's knowledge of the person they are trying to find. My lover could find me easily, but she had never met Beksha or Yavantay. So she'd searched for someone that she suspected might be with them - Gedere - even though she didn't know him very well at all.

In the process, she'd learned far more than we could have hoped for.

- "Kurebir is not the quartermaster; Yavantay is in charge of their supplies. Beksha struts about, but it's Kurebir that they all defer to.

He's

the tactician."

- "That explains a great deal."

- "That's not all." she said. "They have three mages."

I nodded. That was no great revelation; I'd suspected it from the very beginning of the invasion. But then Glasha did surprise me.

"One of them is Durgulel Kischay." she said.

Master Durgulel of Portoa. Our tutor in magic. We'd often asked what school of magic he himself practiced, but Durgulel would never tell us. I knew him well - but he'd also spent hundreds of hours with Sanatha and me.

- "He's their time-walker, isn't he?" I guessed.

Glasha smiled at me. She looked weak, and definitely needed a bath. She'd gone much too far, risking her own health in order to find an advantage for us. I could hardly criticize her for it, though, given my own activities of late. So instead I embraced her, and held her tight.

"This is wonderful news, love. You risked a great deal - but you've won a major victory for us. Now you have to look after yourself. We need you all the more, now."

Having found Gedere once, she would be able to do it again much more easily. She could also find Durgulel. We now had a spy at the enemy's councils of war.

"Eat something, please. And then rest."

- "Oh." she said. "One more thing. Moksha was there. He was expecting a hero's welcome, but Kurebir wasn't all that impressed. They took all of the horses he came with, and then set his men to dragging cannons."

I had to smile at that.

- "Eat, love." I reminded her. "Eat, and then rest." I fed her myself, and then stroked her hair as she fell asleep again.

Rhigen, her father, was none too pleased with me.

- "She could have died." he snapped.

- "I know. So could any of us when we go out to fight. You can blame me for setting a bad example, but Glasha wasn't going to sit back and do nothing. We both know that. And what she found out could be priceless for us."

Now I had a new dilemma: I would never know when Durgulel was time-walking, or who he was following. It was most likely to be me, but he could just as easily spy on Sanatha. I wondered how many times he'd done so over the past few years. He could have been watching my most intimate moments with Glasha, or with Saska. He might also have seen me practicing my magic.

I would never know, from this day onwards, if he was listening as I gave instructions to our commanders. The enemy could very easily know all of our plans. It certainly helped to explain why we'd come so close to disaster several times. It would only take a little bad luck for us to be exposed to a complete disaster. I would have to be especially careful not to let Durgulel find out that Glasha had discovered him. I would also have to communicate with her through others, so that he could not see her pass information to me.

Gedere was potentially dangerous. But a time walker, and a clever tactician... these were a far more serious problem for us. I would have to find a way to counteract them.

***

I told Sanatha about Durgulel. She was properly horrified. But I didn't tell her what I intended to do about him.

Perhaps Rhigen was right, and I'd already spent too long walking the edge of the cliff. My idea was probably a little mad. First, though, I had to find out if it was even possible.

That meant having a delicate conversation with Naevys and Rhigen. Glasha's father already knew about Durgulel, and he'd told Naevys. They were both well aware of how serious this was.

- "It may be that I have no right to ask this." I said. "If you do answer me truthfully, I can swear that I will never tell another living soul what you've said. But the situation is... extremely dangerous. I believe that we may have to take extreme measures."

- "You may ask." said Naevys. "We

may

answer."

- "Alright. Tell me, then: how do you hide the infant fey before they learn to contribute to the concealment spell?"

Naevys' face clouded over. Rhigen looked down at the ground. That was all the answer I needed.

Rhigen had told me that he couldn't bring his little half-fey daughter home with him, because she couldn't learn the concealment magic. The truth was that the fey

could

hide others. Of course, the more people they had to protect who couldn't contribute, the greater the strain on those who did have the magic.

At some point, they had to have decided that they would not risk their survival by taking in outsiders. It was a harsh choice, but understandable.

- "Now I have a second question." I said. "Could you conceal me?"

***

It was probably foolish. Perhaps even a little mad. But the very next evening, I disappeared from my command position without telling anyone - not even my sister.

With me were six fey, including Naevys and Rhigen. None of us expended any magical energy. That was because the other 54 fey were concealing us with

their

magic.

I'd known that the fey did not bother disguising their true appearance while they were fighting, or while concealing themselves. It was not a massive drain on their energy, but why bother? I'd seen their true selves once before, at Souglad. But it still came as somewhat of a shock to see them all again at such close quarters.

Naevys didn't have dark hair; it was blacker than pitch, and moved of its own volition, like tall grass stirred by the wind. His skin was almost translucent, and his face was incredibly narrow; it was all sharp edges and angles. His eyes, though were the most frightening things about him.

Rhigen, without his protective glamour, looked like a stone column. His skin had the texture of rough tree bark. His face, though, was the most shocking: Rhigen looked like a knotted tree trunk with eyes.

Another fey, just to my right, had a huge, monstrously misshaped nose, and massive, rotten buck teeth beneath it. Another, just behind her, had tendrils of hair that moved on his head, like tiny snakes crawling about.

I tried to avoid looking at them. Instead, I concentrated on carefully placing my feet so that I wouldn't trip or stumble. I drew in enough aether to sharpen my senses, and concentrated on what I could hear and feel, rather than what I could see - which wasn't much, other than my fey companions.

I did nothing to distract Naevys or Rhigen, who were leading the way. They had, at best, only a rough idea of where we going.

Straight through the enemy lines.

It must have been easy enough to bypass the mercenaries' pickets. The fey could have made short work of them, but if they were then discovered by their friends before we had finished our task, it might make our journey back all the more difficult.

We'd set out at dusk; it was now growing much darker. It is eerie enough to move about in the night, but especially so with your eyes fixed on your feet. I had to trust the fey completely

We circled a sizeable mercenary encampment. There were hundreds of men there. They had fires lit; I could see the glow out of the corner of my eye. I could also hear their voices, their grunts and farts, the stirrings as some of them settled down to sleep.

These sounds died away as we moved further into the night. It takes so long to cover any distance in the darkness. The fey could have moved much more quickly, but they'd slowed down for my benefit.

Now we stopped. Naevys, Rhigen and the four others who were part of my escort now took over the full burden of concealing themselves - and me. The bulk of the fey, who had other business this night, moved off to our left. By the time they'd gone five yards I could no longer see any trace of them.

The seven of us moved on, and bypassed a second camp. I saw more light from their fires, and heard more chatter and noises. Naevys abruptly stopped; Rhigen reached back to put his hand on my chest. It was like a five-fingered tree branch.

A small group of men had crossed our path. Naevys let them be, waiting patiently for them to move on. Only then did we resume our progress.

I had no idea how far we'd come, or how much time had passed. Now I was even more reliant on Naevys and Rhigen.

We came upon a much larger camp: I could tell from the bright glow of multiple fires, and the hubbub of voices. My guides stopped at once. After a brief, wordless consultation, they changed direction, and moved off to the left.

After some time, we turned right again, and covered another forty or fifty yards. Then we stopped.

Rhigen turned, and put his face close to mine.

- "

This is as far as we can go

." he whispered.

I nodded. The fey had done their part, for now. This segment of the night's activities was up to me. I drew on the aether, to once again augment my senses, and stepped between Naevys and Rhigen to see what I could make out.

There was a large encampment to our left, and a smaller one to our right. Straight ahead, though, was another large collection of fires, with hundreds more mercenaries around them, effectively barring our way forward.

With my sharpened eyesight, though, I was able to block out the glow of the campfires, and see beyond them. There they were: three large tents.

Glasha had described the scene she'd seen on her time-walk.

- "They were inside - not out in the open. Tapers and a brazier, rather than a fire. It felt as though they were in a tent."

She'd been right. Now our fate this night rested on only two factors, two unknowns.

The first was our timing. Were the enemy leaders meeting now, or had they already split up and gone to their separate sleeping places? If the latter, then we had a long, fruitless vigil ahead of us.

We waited. The fey had the patience of living beings who'd experienced a lifetime measured in centuries. I had... willpower.

They say that time waits for no one. I can also tell you from firsthand experience that time hurries for no one. A watched kettle never boils. I tried to let the moments slide by me, my eyesight fixed on those three tents.

Meanwhile, I counted my blessings. Glasha. Saska, and the child she bore. My sister. And the simple fact that I was still alive, while my parents and my brothers were all in the grave. I missed Aludar, as he once was, and Toran, as he might have been. I missed Sezima, as well, though he'd had the kind of ending that he might have wished for.

There was a blur of movement as the tent flap was thrust aside.

I immediately gathered a large quantity of aether. Two soldiers came out, and the sentries on duty came to attention. Behind them came a tall, bearded man, who kept his spine straight and shoulders thrust back. Tir Beksha, I guessed. Or no longer a Tir, since San and I had confiscated his estates.

I drew on the aether again. I was going to need a great deal of it. The next two people to exit were a pair of soldiers. Then a man and a woman appeared behind them. Two of the mages - it had to be. I could think of no other reason for a woman to be included in their councils.

I gathered another large amount of aether. Naevys grew alarmed; he told me later that, to the fey's eyes, I was lit up like a bonfire.

The next man out of the tent was also unfamiliar. He was a big fellow, with a wide-brimmed hat. But the figure behind him I recognized immediately. I didn't have to see his face; I knew him by his slow movements, and by the slump of one shoulder.

Gedere. The man who'd tried to have me killed.

I shaped the aether.

But he was not the reason that the fey and I were here. I was far more interested in the man who left the tent a moment later, and stood beside Gedere. Him too I recognized, by the way he walked, by his proud posture, by his well-trimmed mustache and little beard, and by the way his hair was drawn back into a bun.

Durgulel Kischay, my former tutor, who'd taught me more than he knew. How long had he been time-walking, spying on my sister and me? Or had he watched my brothers, for that matter? - because he knew us all very well.

I had the exact shape I'd been practicing with. An aether arrow.

I let fly. It was nothing like an aether spear, which I can only compare to a short, violent

thrust

. I'd used an aether spear to split a tree at one hundred yards, knocking myself out in the process.

Sending the arrow was more like a release. Let it go - let it fly, and then direct it. Naevys and Rhigen had done more than I could have expected: they'd brought us within 400 yards of the enemy's command tent.

The best elven archers could have shot an arrow that far - but their accuracy at that range couldn't be guaranteed. An

aether

arrow, on the other hand,

never missed

.

I'd practiced at 500 yards, with excellent results, and at 600, which proved unwise. But at 300 to 400 yards, I had no issues. I let my arrow fly, aimed at Durgulel. Then I immediately began to shape another.

Rhigen and I had discovered several things about my aether arrows. First, I could send them almost twice as far as most fey - even the most ancient, and most powerful. Second, if he stood downfield, instead of beside me, Rhigen could see my arrows coming.

Durgulel Kischay was a more potent mage than he'd ever let us see. In addition to never revealing his school of magic, our tutor had rarely given us a demonstration of what was possible. But he revealed himself this night, as he reacted almost instantaneously to my aether arrow.

He saw it coming, mustered the aether he'd already gathered, and

deflected

my magical missile. The arrow brushed by him, missing by inches. It flew through the tent flap.

I was impressed, of course. But I was still concentrating on my

second

aether arrow, which arrived only a few seconds later. Durgulel had used up his store of aether (I was surprised that he'd had

any

ready). My second arrow struck him directly in the face, shattering the bridge of his nose, liquefying both of his eyes, and boring through his face. The arrow exited the back of his head, spraying gore over those nearby.

- "Time to go." whispered Rhigen, even as he took hold of my arm. He knew how much energy I had expended in order to shoot a pair of aether arrows that far. He was fully prepared to carry me, if necessary. I was glad of his support, at first, but soon discovered that I could walk unaided.

Naevys began to lead away from the centre of the enemy array.

We hadn't gone very far from the uproar in the centre of the mercenaries' camp when a second tumult began far off to our left. The fey who'd accompanied us at the beginning of our march had gone off to create a diversion - a very successful diversion.

Soldiers ran about to either side of us, shouting. Then came my first moment of true panic that whole night. One trooper ran straight at our party. He couldn't see any of us, of course, but he was headed directly for us. Naevys stepped to one side while Rhigen moved the other way. Unfortunately, when he tugged at my sleeve, he lost hold of me.

The soldier was running straight at me. He was shouting. I did the only thing I could think of: I dropped and tried to roll to one side.

I don't know if his foot brushed my clothing, or if her merely sensed a disturbance in the air as he rushed past me. Whatever the reason, he ran another four or five steps before skidding to a halt on the grass.

He turned around, and looked back at us.

The fey stood absolutely still. I was frozen in place, with one elbow and my hip on the ground. I didn't dare to breathe.

Then a new chorus of shouting erupted, off to our right, and the soldier was distracted. He shook his head, and turned again to run away from us.

I waited for Rhigen to give me a signal that it was safe to move.

We threaded our way back between the mercenary camps without further incident.

***

Sanatha was furious. She didn't yell at me, though, because she understood how important it was for us that Durgulel was dead. The enemy had been blinded; they could no longer eavesdrop on our councils, or listen in as we issued orders.

But she wasn't happy that I'd risked my life - and those of the fey leaders - without telling her in advance.

- "I couldn't risk Durgulel overhearing us." I told her.

She grumbled some more after that, but without the same anger. I suspect that she had just been frightened, having never seriously considered the possibility that she might have to lead and rule without me.

The mercenaries foraged the next day, but more tentatively than before. The following day, though, they came out in larger numbers. The elves harassed them from a distance, careful to stay out of crossbow range. That night, the fey paid our enemies another surprise visit.

On the third day after Durgulel's death, the mercenaries tried very hard to draw us into a major trap. Thankfully, neither Alissara nor Enneiros were taken in. We didn't have to inflict heavy casualties in order to wear our enemies down. It was enough that we slowed down their advance, and prevented them from finding and capturing a large source of food.

Glasha was well enough, that night, to undertake a short time-walk. She chose the night

after

my adventure with the fey, when I'd killed Durgulel. It was easy enough to find Gedere. Fortunately for us, he seemed to have made himself indispensable to both Yavantay

and

Beksha, so that he was present at the enemy council.

- "Durgulel is definitely dead." said Glasha. "And your first arrow? The one that he deflected? It pierced the tent, and struck someone who was still inside. You'll never guess who."

- "Who?' asked Sanatha.

- "Kurebir."

- "The tactician? Is he...?"

- "No. Wounded. But unable to walk. It hit him in the hip, or the upper leg. Beksha wanted to take over the command, but no one supported him."

- "So Kurebir still leads - but he's immobilized." I said.

- "Their food situation is growing critical." said Glasha. "Their boats can't bring enough up the river."

We knew that they were using small boats to carry supplies; these vessels were of shallow draught, so that they go by the sunken ship. They also stayed close to the eastern shore so that we couldn't interfere with their passage. But the simple fact of the matter is that the mercenaries didn't

have

tons of food to bring up by boat.

I didn't care how many barrels of gunpowder they carried, or how many reinforcements came forward to join the main host. The more, the merrier: more weight to drag, more mouths to feed.

It was only a matter of time before they would have to put their fighting men on short rations, or even stop feeding their draft animals. The present situation wasn't a stalemate; every day, the mercenaries advanced a little further, pulling their guns. And every day, as their food stocks dwindled, they came closer to defeat.

But I expected Kurebir to try something more daring, first. If he could not find a way to lure us into a major engagement where he could use his cannons, then he had to try to get a large force behind or past us, to areas where we had yet to evacuate the villages and farms. Only then might they be able to seize a large amount of food.