Relics of War

Chapter Twenty-One

His father and sisters looked up when he stepped through the door; his mother was busy with a delicate bit of stitchery and paid no attention. “What was that strange noise?” Shella the Younger asked.

“The baron’s sorcerer finished studying that wand.”

“You mean he figured out how to make it work?” Shella sat up. “Lord Dakkar’s soldiers…”

“He didn’t figure out how to make it work,” Garander interrupted. “Not unless you consider blowing himself up is making it work.”

“He’s dead?” their father asked.

“He’s vanished without a trace, along with his tent and everything in it,” Garander said. “I’m guessing he’s dead, but it wasn’t an ordinary explosion, it was something strange, so for all I know he’s now riding the lesser moon across the sky.”

His father frowned. “A man is dead, Garander,” he said. “Show some respect.”

“Tesk warned him,” Garander replied.

“Still.”

“I’m sorry, Father.”

For a moment no one spoke; then Grondar said, “You spoke to the shatra?”

“Yes.”

“Is he going to flee?”

Garander hesitated.

This was the moment when he should tell his family about his plan, but he could not bring himself to do it. Ever since Ishta found that talisman every time he had revealed a secret, no matter to whom, it had made things worse. He did not trust his parents or sisters to maintain appearances, even if they did not actually tell anyone what was happening.

“I don’t think so,” Garander said. “Actually, I think he’s getting ready to die. He expects the magicians to kill him. Or if they don’t he may kill himself, in hopes of averting another war.”

“That’s…unfortunate,” Grondar said.

“He can’t kill himself!” Ishta exclaimed. “I don’t want him to die! He should go live in Ethshar; the baron’s wizards can’t get at him there!”

“He can’t live in a city, Ishta,” Garander said. “You heard him. His magic won’t let him.”

“Well, that’s stupid magic!”

“Of course it is,” her father agreed. “It’s wartime magic, and wars make everything stupid.”

“Can’t someone fix it?”

Grondar shook his head, but Garander said, “I talked to that wizard from Varag, Azlia. She doesn’t want a war, and doesn’t think giving one side a shatra is going to be good for anyone, so she’s going to see what she can do.”

“How good a wizard is she, really?” Shella the Younger asked.

“How should I know?” Garander said, turning up a palm.

“Will the shatra come back at dusk, as he said, do you think?” Grondar asked.

“I think so,” Garander said. He glanced at the window; the sun was low in the west, its rays reaching the hearth in the east end of the room. “In fact, I think I’m going back out to wait for him.”

“I’ll come, too!” Ishta called.

“No, you won’t,” her mother said, looking up from her embroidery. “You’ll stay here and help me in the kitchen. When this big important meeting is over we’ll still need to eat.”

“But Mother! Tesk’s life is at stake!”

“And your presence isn’t going to change whatever happens,” Shella told her. She set down her stitchery. “Come on, let’s get this started; once everything’s cooking you can go watch.”

Ishta started to argue, but Garander did not wait around for the inevitable outcome. He slipped back outside, and ambled around the side of the house in the general direction of the flying carpet. As he rounded the back corner, though, he noticed two figures in the shadows. He turned to look.

The smaller figure was Azlia; the larger was a man he did not recognize. They had been talking quietly, but they looked up as he approached.

“Garander,” Azlia said. “Allow me to introduce Ellador of Morningside.”

The man wore a dark blue robe and a blue velvet cap with red piping; white hair spilled down over his shoulders, and a long white beard hid much of his face and chest. He looked very much like the traditional image of a wizard. “Hello,” Garander said, unsure what he should do or say when introduced to a magician.

“A pleasure to meet you,” Ellador said. “I understand you live here, and you are concerned about whether this dispute over the shatra might trigger a war.”

Garander smiled wryly. The man certainly got to the point. “Yes,” he said.

“You inquired about the Sanguinary Deception?”

“The…what?”

The old man smiled. “The Sanguinary Deception. The spell that makes a person look very, very dead.”

Garander straightened up, and felt his heart beat a little faster. “Yes,” he said. “Do you know it?”

“Oh, yes,” Ellador replied. “It’s quite simple, and once upon a time every wizard in the army was expected to know it. Since the war it’s fallen out of fashion, though; it really doesn’t have many legitimate uses in peacetime. I’m sure Azlia’s master didn’t see any reason she would want to learn it.”

Azlia made a wordless noise that Garander could not interpret, and he was more concerned with learning whether his plan was practical. The spell he wanted did exist, and this wizard claimed to know it, but was it practical? Remembering Azlia’s spell in the root cellar, Garander asked, “How long does it take?”

“Oh, just a few seconds.”

Garander’s breath came out in a sigh of relief; he had not realized he had been holding it. Then another thought struck him. “Do you have the…materials you need for it?”

“We usually say ‘ingredients,’” Ellador corrected him. “And all it takes is a knife, a wizard, and the blood of the person being enchanted.”

“That’s wonderful!” Garander said, smiling broadly.

“Who did you want it cast on?” Ellador asked. “I’m afraid Azlia had not yet told me that, or why an apparent death would keep these young fools from fighting one another.”

Garander had thought it was obvious, but he was tactful enough to stop himself before saying that aloud. “The shatra,” he said.

Ellador blinked, and sucked a wisp of mustache into his mouth. “Hmm,” he said. “You think that its death would mean there was nothing to fight over?”

Garander nodded.

“An interesting thought. It might work. But I’m not sure the Sanguinary Deception will work on a shatra-aren’t they supposed to be as much demon as man?”

“They’re part demon,” Garander conceded. “But Tesk says his blood is red, not black like a demon’s, so…well, does that mean it would work?”

“It might,” Ellador said, stroking his beard. “It might. I can’t say for sure.”

“It’s worth a try, isn’t it?”

“I don’t see how it can make matters worse,” Ellador agreed. “What did you have in mind?”

Garander had refined his original plan somewhat. “Tesk-the shatra-is going to be back to talk to Lord Dakkar and Lady Shasha soon, to hear their final offers. Then he’ll tell them that he’ll give them a decision in the morning, but in the morning I’ll tell each group that he decided he would rather die than serve his ancient enemies, and I’ll lead them to his ‘body.’ Which you’ll have enchanted. The spell makes the body look really horrible, right? So they won’t want to inspect it and make sure he’s really dead by cutting off his head or something.”

“Well, I can’t be sure they won’t decide to be thorough, but he’ll look very dead indeed,” Ellador said. “If it works on a shatra in the first place.”

“And there’s no way to see through it, and tell it’s an illusion?”

“Oh, I didn’t say that,” the wizard replied. “But it would take magic. A witch could probably tell, and I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s some talisman a sorcerer could use to test it. But no one could see through it without magic.”

That was not quite as impenetrable as Garander had hoped, but he thought it would probably be enough. “And it won’t wear off suddenly, or anything?”

“Well, yes, it does wear off. It starts to fade a day after the spell is cast. But it will last at least a full day.”

“Can he move during that day?” The idea of Tesk being trapped, motionless, for an entire day had some obvious drawbacks.

“Oh, he can move just fine. He’ll look dead, and won’t breathe, his heart won’t beat, and sometimes it makes the enchanted person smell dead, though that part doesn’t always work, but from his point of view he’ll be perfectly normal. No pain or discomfort. Oh, except that if he coughs, he’ll spew blood.” He grimaced. “It’s pretty ugly.”

“I don’t think that’s a problem,” Garander said.

Ellador turned up a palm. “Then I’m willing to give it a try.”

Garander grabbed the wizard’s hand. “Thank you!” he said, with sincere gratitude.

“I’m still not clear what you think you’ll accomplish, but then, I haven’t really followed everything that’s been going on.” He glanced at Azlia. “Your friend here probably thinks I’m a fool, but I agreed to come along in case Lady Shasha needed some sort of wizardry that Zendalir couldn’t manage, and didn’t really pay attention to any of the details. I just do what they pay me to do.” He smiled. “I thought I would mostly be working communication spells, to keep her in touch with Lord Edaran and his advisors back in Ethshar, not dredging up old-fashioned disguise spells from my army days!”

Garander’s heart dropped at the mention of payment. “I…can’t pay you much,” he said.

Ellador waved that away. “Don’t worry about it. I’m doing this as a courtesy to Azlia. It’s an easy spell. I haven’t used it for twenty years…no, not that long; I forgot, we used it as a prank once, about fifteen or sixteen years ago. But not since then.”

“Are you sure you remember it?” Azlia asked.

“Oh, yes. I did it dozens of times during the war.”

Garander did not find that as reassuring as Ellador apparently intended it to be, but he did not say anything about that. “Can you meet me tonight, after dark?” he asked. “I’ll take you to the shatra, and you can enchant him.”

“Well, I can try,” Ellador said. “I told you, I can’t be sure it will work on a shatra.”

“We’ll see,” Garander said. “Shall we meet here?”

“All right. After dark.”

“And if anyone asks what we were discussing here,” Azlia interjected, “Ellador and I have been trading spells, and we were talking to you about buying ingredients for them-herbs and feathers and bones.”

“Oh,” Garander said. “That’s a good idea.” He looked to the west; the sun was touching the treetops of the windbreak around Felder’s dooryard. “We should go; Tesk will be coming to talk to the nobles soon.”

“Indeed,” Ellador said. “Does he know what you’re planning?”

“Not exactly,” Garander admitted. “But I’ll tell him.” Then he turned and hurried back toward the meeting point in the west field.

He found Velnira waiting, and a glance back over his shoulder showed him Lady Shasha approaching, as well. He wondered whether she had been able to contact Lord Edaran with one of her wizards not present; perhaps that was something Zendalir could handle by himself, or perhaps one of the other magicians knew some sort of communication magic.

“Well?” Velnira demanded, as Garander ambled up to her. “Where is the shatra?”

“How should I know?” Garander asked, startled. “I’m his friend, not his keeper.”

Velnira did not look satisfied by this, but had no immediate answer. She simply glared at the farmer’s son.

Annoyed by this, Garander asked, “Where is Lord Dakkar?”

“In his tent,” Velnira replied. “I am to speak for him.”

Garander could not say why, but that made him slightly uneasy. Wouldn’t the baron want to bask in his success, if he made Tesk a winning offer?

But maybe he knew his best offer was not good enough, and did not want to see it rejected. Garander grimaced, and turned to watch Lady Shasha march up, accompanied by Zendalir and a plump woman Garander did not recognize but assumed to be another magician of some sort.

The aristocrat curtsied to Velnira and Garander, then ostentatiously scanned her surroundings, making a silent point of Tesk’s absence.

“I’m sure he’ll be here soon,” Garander said.

“Of course,” Lady Shasha said, with a significant glance to the west. The sun was below the horizon now, and the clouds above were outlined in brilliant orange.

Garander looked around, to see whether the shatra was visible. He did not see Tesk, but he saw that his father and sisters had emerged from the house and were watching. His mother was not in sight.

And then he did see Tesk, emerging from the shadows between his father and the barn. The shatra paused and said something to Grondar, startling him; he paused to ruffle Ishta’s hair, then strode on toward the waiting emissaries.

Garander glanced at the two women, gauging their reactions. Lady Shasha seemed imperturbable as ever, but Velnira looked distinctly nervous, and Garander’s suspicion that Lord Dakkar’s offer was embarrassingly inadequate grew stronger.

The threesome waited silently as the shatra approached.

Tesk stopped a few feet away and said, “I have come, as I agreed I would.” Then he looked directly at Garander and asked, “Why are you here, instead of safe with your family?”

Startled, Garander realized he did not have a good answer ready; the truth was that it had never occurred to him not to be there. He had simply taken it for granted that he should be present for any negotiations.

Tesk was waiting for an answer, and at last Garander said, “I’m here to represent my family. After all, this is our land. And I thought you might want a friend present.”

“I certainly have no objection to his presence,” Lady Shasha said. “While I hope that someday you might call me your friend, I know that as yet the term does not apply, and I welcome the young man in that capacity.”

“I don’t care whether he’s here or not,” Velnira said. “Let’s get on with it.”

That did not sound good, Garander thought. Such gracelessness was worrisome.

“Shall I begin, then?” Lady Shasha asked.

“Go ahead,” Velnira said, with a wave of her hand.

“Excellent!” The Ethsharite smiled. “Tesk, Lord Edaran regrets that you cannot enjoy the comforts of his city, and apologizes for any discomfort his ignorance of your limitations may have caused. He would still very much appreciate your services as an advisor in matters magical and military, and access to your devices and your own body, so that his own magicians might study and learn from them. In exchange, he offers to provide you with transportation anywhere you might wish to go, by any means within his power-the flying carpet that brought me, for example, can be placed at your disposal. Perhaps you would like to visit the ruins of your homeland, to see if there is anything to be salvaged there, or if there are any rites or ceremonies for the dead to be performed. Furthermore, given that you have said you seek companionship, he would be happy to send visitors to see you, at whatever intervals and for whatever duration might best suit you, and these visitors shall be of your choosing. If you would like the company of singers, perhaps, or dancers, or storytellers, that can be arranged. Should you be interested in educating yourself in the ways of our people, he would be happy to send teachers-historians, perhaps, or scholars of one sort or another. If there is something you would like to teach us, in addition to your magic, that would be appreciated-your native tongue, perhaps, or the history and culture of the Northern Empire as seen from within. We know so little of your people! If you do not wish to see your own language lost to the world, we have students eager to learn it.”

As she paused for breath, Garander marveled at the cleverness of this offer. Helping the memory of his people survive might indeed appeal to Tesk, but Garander was sure that the Ethsharites were more interested in knowing Shaslan so they could read surviving Northern documents-especially magicians’ records of their magic.

“That is everything we have thought to offer,” Lady Shasha continued, “but if there is anything else you desire, we will consider whether we can reasonably provide it. Exotic foodstuffs, perhaps-Lord Azrad’s Ethshar is becoming famous for its spice trade, and the small kingdoms that now rule Old Ethshar have developed some interesting cuisine. Fine clothing, if your nature allows it and you take any interest in your appearance. Whatever the wealth of Ethshar of the Sands can comfortably provide can be yours. There must be limitations, of course; you cannot ask us to put any innocents to death, or to perform any extravagant acts of destruction, but Lord Edaran is ready to be extremely generous, and to accommodate your nature as best he can. I await your decision.”

Having concluded her speech, she curtsied again, and took a single step back.

Tesk regarded her for a moment, then said, “That is a better offer than I expected.” He turned to Velnira.

She threw an angry glance at Lady Shasha, then cleared her throat.

“Lord Dakkar, Baron of Varag, has given due consideration to your earlier statements of why you are not interested in the offer he made earlier, and has concluded that there is no rational way to pay you for your services with anything but your life. Furthermore, since you are a Northern abomination trespassing on the baron’s lands, and since no formal peace was ever made with the Northern Empire, the proper thing to do would be to kill you. However, Lord Dakkar is a merciful man, and a practical one. If you agree to assist his magicians in studying your magic, and his soldiers in learning the arts of combat, he will allow you to live. If you do not agree, he will have you hunted down and slain, whether here in these woods, or in the wastelands where the Empire once ruled, or in the streets of Ethshar.”

Garander stood silently listening to this, at first in disbelief, and then in anger. No wonder the baron had not wanted to deliver his ultimatum in person! Tesk might have killed him on the spot. In fact, in Tesk’s position Garander thought he might go ahead and kill Lord Dakkar anyway, even if it meant fighting his way through a few guards, in hopes his successor would be more reasonable.

“Not a very generous offer,” Lady Shasha said quietly.

“It is not an offer at all,” Tesk said. “It is a threat. But I do not know whether he can carry out his threat.”

“Maybe you can accept both offers,” Garander suggested.

Both women started to speak at once; then they stopped, looking at one another. Lady Shasha made a gesture indicating Velnira should go ahead.

“Lord Dakkar won’t allow that,” the chamberlain said.

“Regrettably, neither will Lord Edaran,” Lady Shasha said. “His agreement with you must be exclusive.”

“I see,” Tesk said. He thought for a moment, then said, “Perhaps you will each ask your master to reconsider. If I could accept both offers it might make this easier.” He looked up at the darkening sky. “I will think about this. You will know my decision in the morning.”

Lady Shasha curtsied again, but Velnira demanded, “What is there to decide?”

Tesk looked at her and said, “Whether I live or die.” He turned away. “Garander, walk with me. I wish to say goodbye to your family.”

“Of course,” Garander said. The shatra had not waited for his answer, but was already walking swiftly toward the house; Garander hurried to catch up.