“Perhaps—”
“No! Don’t defend them!” Mari shook her head. “All the common parents did it when we were apprentices, just stopped writing and stopped caring. We were all so hurt and ashamed that we never wanted to talk about it. Now it doesn’t matter why. I don’t care about my parents anymore.”
It was obvious that she was lying. “Can I help?”
“You can stop talking about them.” Mari’s arm tightened around him enough to hurt for a moment, but she did not seem to be aware of it. “I’m sorry. Just drop it, please. It’s not your problem.”
“Your problems are my problems now. Is that not so?”
Another tightening of Mari’s grip, though this time it felt affectionate. “Thank you. But it’s not really a problem. It’s over, is all.”
“May I ask if you had a brother or a sister?”
There was a long pause, then he heard the loss in her voice. “No. Just me. Just as well, don’t you think? They couldn’t do to any other child what they did to me. Now, not another word about that, Alain. Please.”
He focused on the road, paying attention to the places where melting snow had exposed mud or the snow still lay drifted and must be walked around.
They reached a crossroads, traffic from the other road joining theirs, the surface under the snow now gravel, the snow itself packed down by the tread of many feet. Alain studied the snow, then spoke softly to Mari. “Part of a legion has traveled this way already. The boot marks are clear.”
“A legion?” Mari looked down at the road worriedly. “I’ve seen legionaries at drill. I don’t mind saying they scare me.”
“They scare me as well. We must respect the threat from them.” Alain looked back in the direction the legionaries must have come. “These were somewhere closer to the mountains, south of where we came.”
It took her only a moment to understand. “They’re part of the force that attacked you?”
“It seems likely, but that was a larger force than what I see traces of here.”
“What does that mean?” Mari’s eyes widened. “Some of them are behind us?”
“Yes.” They sped up a little, but not by much because they knew they would be walking all day and because the growing density of foot travelers and horse or mule or oxen drawn carts, carriages and wagons made it hard to push faster than the flow of traffic. Alain found himself fighting down annoyance, and having to avoid showing his reaction when he was occasionally jostled or blocked by other people.
He looked around at the commons, some of them showing exasperation at the traffic, others just resignation. Beside him, Mari was doing a slow burn and plainly trying not to snarl at everyone and everything around them. “We have only been receiving the special treatment granted to members of the Great Guilds for a short time, and already we expect it,” he told her. “How would this feel if we had been living with special privileges for many years?”
“Even more aggravating,” Mari grumbled.
His eyes lingered on riders passing by, their progress a little easier because the crowds had to part before the horses.
Mari must have noticed his gaze. “If you really, really want to ride, we can try to get some horses.”
“Your voice tells me that you do not really wish to do that,” Alain said.
“I’d put it up with riding for your sake, but no, I wouldn’t be happy. It’s not that I don’t like horses,” Mari continued. “I mean, I like looking at them, and watching them run and everything. They’re beautiful. But when I get in the saddle it’s like I’m a misaligned part. I can’t get comfortable or adjust right to the way the horse moves or anything. I think some horses laugh at me and others take pity on me, while some are just plain mean, but the truth is that I’m not a natural rider and probably will never be good at riding a horse. I’d rather walk for now.”
“I was just thinking that we should continue walking,” Alain said.
“That’s what you were thinking while you were looking at those riders?” Mari asked skeptically.
“Yes.”
“Liar.”
“Like a Mage,” Alain said, wondering if that was the right way to form a humorous response.
It must have been, because Mari laughed and wrapped her arm about his so that they walked side by side again.
They took a break around noon, standing to eat since there was nowhere to sit off the road that was not covered in snow or soaking wet. As they shared food and drink from Alain’s pack, he felt a warning sensation. “More Mages are approaching,” he whispered to Mari.
Her head came up in alarm. “Which way?”
“From the way we came. There are at least six.”
“Can you hide from them?”
“I think so.”
Mari frowned at him. “Get behind me. You should also physically hide yourself without being obvious about it. I’m not big enough to hide you, but maybe you’ll be less noticeable that way.” She took another look down the road. “I see some kind of banner.”
The brass notes of horns sounded down the road, and Alain understood what the banners foretold. “The rest of the legion is coming. The Mages must be with them.”
They could see commons hastily moving off the road now, going either right or left to clear the route for the oncoming legionaries. The speed and concern they showed made it clear what would happen to any common who was still in the way when the soldiers arrived. Walking was impossible now with the shoulders of the road packed with commons and their wagons who had left the road, so Mari and Alain waited, he feeling exposed with Mages coming, even though Mari had positioned herself between him and the road. A sudden realization struck him then. If they came for me, Mari would keep herself between them and me. She would be my shield. The insight was both frightening and heartening, knowing that Mari cared enough to sacrifice herself for him but knowing that he could never allow her to be hurt. At such a moment, her status as the long-prophesized daughter mattered not at all. It was only because she was Mari. Alain redoubled his efforts to hide his presence from other Mages.
Cavalry led the column, but not very much of it. Alain, familiar with the makeup of Imperial forces from his schooling in the wars of common folk, wondered why more cavalry was not present. It was only as the first ranks of horsemen trotted past that he realized from the bandaged wounds on many of them that this was the same force which had ambushed and pursued the Alexdrians. This is partly due to me. Their ranks are thin because I helped kill or seriously injure many of their comrades. The pain that idea brought made Alain wish for a moment that he could still deny emotion.
Behind the cavalry came a long column of foot soldiers, the legionaries marching in ranks which filled the entire width of the road. The Imperial soldiers moved past, banners hanging almost limp in the mild breeze, silent except for the rattle of equipment, the clop of horse hooves, a drum pounding out cadence for the marchers and the sound of feet striking the road in endless repetition. The faces of the legionaries were weary, tired from the fight and from the march.
Alain could not help comparing the Imperial legion to the Alexdrian soldiers he had fought with, thinking that the Imperials seemed both grander and more lethal than the Alexdrians, with bright insignia and armor glittering in the sun and a practiced discipline to their movements. For the first time, he realized just how lucky he and the surviving Alexdrians had been to escape from these soldiers.
Then he felt a chill as two enclosed carriages came into view, their occupants screened behind curtains that completely covered the windows. The presence of the Mages inside the carriages glowed to Alain’s Mage senses as he concentrated on hiding his presence from them. Those other Mages were not bothering to hide themselves, a good sign that they were not concerned enough to be alert for any signs of Alain’s presence. These Mages were doubtless certain that he had died under the talons of the dragon.
Alain kept his eyes on the carriages, sensing that the first carriage had only two people in it, both r
adiating the power of potent Mages. Lightning and Dragon, surely, Alain thought, and both elders from the feel of them. He felt a moment of irrational pride that his Guild had felt it necessary to use two such powerful Mages against him.
Perhaps that moment of pride, the moment of distraction, betrayed him.
The second carriage held the six other Mages Alain had guessed at, those who had taken out the Alexdrian scouts without allowing them a chance to cry warning. As Alain watched that carriage pass, he felt a familiar presence among them.
The curtain over one window twitched open and a Mage looked out upon the crowd, her eyes going straight to Alain. He saw long blonde hair, blue eyes, and a familiar face of surpassing natural beauty. Asha. Her eyes met his, but her face remained impassive, as that of a Mage should. Alain stared back at her, knowing that she must have sensed his presence, as he had hers, perhaps because of his familiarity to her. She must have recognized his face. What could he and Mari do when Asha called out an alarm? With all of the Imperial soldiers at hand as well as at least seven more Mages, neither Alain nor Mari would stand a chance. Perhaps I can draw all of the attention onto myself and Mari can escape. It will be her only hope for survival. He tensed, ready to run away from Mari the moment Asha acted.
Chapter Ten
Asha’s eyes stayed locked on Alain’s for a long moment as the carriage drove past. Then Asha leaned back and let the curtain drop.
He waited, barely able to believe that Asha had not betrayed him to the Guild and the Imperials. But there was no alarm, no variation in the steady pace of the marching column, as the carriages of the Mages moved away down the road. Though Alain strained his senses, he could feel no sign that any of the Mages within the carriages were preparing spells.
Mari turned and gave him a worried look. “What happened? One of the Mages looked out and you suddenly tensed up, like you expected trouble.”
Alain relaxed himself with an effort. “One of the Mages in the second wagon saw me and knew me,” he explained in a low voice. Mari’s eyes flared in alarm. “But she did nothing.”
“The Mage who looked out toward us? Wait a minute.” Her tone of voice went very quickly from alarm to umbrage. “Blond. Beautiful. Was that Asha?” Mari demanded.
“Yes, that was Asha.”
“That was Asha.”
“Yes,” Alain repeated, wondering why he felt so worried by the way Mari looked at him.
“She has blue eyes,” Mari said, pointing her forefinger at Alain. “You didn’t tell me that she had blue eyes. And you didn’t tell me she was beautiful.”
“I told you she was very attractive. I did not mention the eyes because I did not think that was important.”
“Not important?” Mari glared at Alain. “How old is she?”
“I do not know exactly. I believe she is perhaps two years older than me.”
“Oh! Great!”
Alain watched Mari, unable to understand what was wrong. “She did not betray us, Mari. There is no need to be concerned.”
“I’m not concerned!” Mari growled back at him.
“But—” Alain decided he should stop trying to explain. Mari was staring at the last of the Imperial forces marching past, her face unyielding. Alain watched them, too, wondering why Mari was so unhappy and why Asha had not betrayed him. Two women acting in ways he did not understand. Nothing in his Mage training had prepared Alain for this.
The last ranks of foot soldiers passed. Bringing up the rear came wagon after wagon, most being driven by farmers or merchants who had been pressed into service along with their vehicles and draft animals. Inside the wagons lay soldiers too badly wounded to walk or ride, sometimes moaning as the wagons jolted them. Mari leaned back to murmur to him. “They didn’t get off easy either, did they?” Her bad mood seemed to have passed as quickly as the storm.
Alain just nodded. He wondered why he felt neither pride in having hurt so many of the enemy, nor revulsion in the harm he had caused to save the Alexdrians, just a melancholy at the sight of the suffering. “The Free Cities and the Empire have been waging war for centuries, to no purpose. Men and women die, but nothing ever changes.”
“What a waste,” Mari said. “But their deaths do accomplish something. They die to keep the world stable, so that the Great Guilds can continue to rule.” She stared at the last wagons full of wounded as they passed. “What are you thinking now?”
“I am thinking that within a few years such deaths, such suffering, will occur on a scale so vast that all this world will be filled with it,” Alain said. “And there will be no safe refuge for the injured or any others. Unless this world does change. That is its only hope, that one person can bring about change.”
She looked over and back at him, somber and subdued. “Remember that ‘no pressure’ thing I mentioned? Why me, Alain?”
“I do not know.”
“I already know how delusional you are concerning me,” Mari told him, “but why does everyone else seem to think I’m either their great hope or really dangerous?”
He had no answer to that. Mari nodded resignedly to him, then gripped his hand. Together she and Alain joined the mass of commons once again clogging the road to Umburan in the wake of the legion.
* * * *
It took close to the week Calu had predicted before Mari and Alain reached Umburan, walking almost all the way since few wagons passing them had room for riders. By the time they limped into the city, Mari was rethinking her opposition to more horseback riding.
Mari had planned to pass through Umburan as quickly as possible. After she had learned about Alain’s battle, that desire had been reinforced by worries about lingering too close to where the engagement had been fought. There were Imperials in Umburan who could conceivably have seen the young Mage accompanying the Alexdrians, and there were those eight Mages who might have been passing through or might live in the city’s Mage Guild Hall.
But now she had to try to meet with Calu, and in any case by the time they reached Umburan the Imperial troops who had marched by them had already had plenty of time to monopolize all outgoing transport for the next few days. With no way out of the city except by walking—making them too slow and too easily intercepted by anyone looking for them—Mari decided it was just as well that they were planning to stay a while longer. Few would be leaving Umburan until the horses, wagons, coaches and other forms of transportation which had been requisitioned by the Imperial military were freed up for use by civilians again.
Alain, though, wanted to increase their risk. “I should go closer to the Mage Guild Hall to see if I can detect the presence of the Mage Asha,” he argued.
“Why are you so eager to find this Mage Asha again?” Mari demanded, fighting off the aggravation she felt every time the name came up. “Catching up on old times is dangerous, and according to you she wouldn’t be interested in that anyway.”
“She may have important information,” Alain said.
“I’m sure.”
“Why does Asha concern you?” Alain asked.
“She doesn’t concern me. Your old friends are no business of mine. All that I’m worried about is the danger to us.” The small room they had rented in a hostel had thin walls, so they kept their voices low and tried to ignore the sounds that leaked in from the rooms around them.
“Your feelings do not match your words,” Alain said.
“My feelings? My feelings are none of your business!”
Alain watched her for a moment with a puzzled air.
Normally Mari got joy out of spotting expressions on his face, but not right now. She schooled her voice to sound as reasonable as possible. “I don’t think it’s wise to seek out other Mages, particularly other Mages who were part of a group which recently tried to kill you. If there’s going to be contact between you and other Mages, I would just prefer it happen a little farther down the road.”
Alain sat silent for a little while, then nodded. “I do understand. It is hard for me to explai
n why I believe that Asha can be trusted.”
“It’s not all that hard to understand,” Mari grumbled, thinking of the female Mage’s hair, eyes and face.
“Perhaps you can explain it to me, then,” Alain suggested.
“I don’t think so.” Mari checked the time. “I need to go meet with Calu.”
Alain stood up. “I will watch from outside the bookselling place while you meet with him, to ensure no one approaches. There is a chance he is being watched by your Guild just as you were in Dorcastle.”
“That’s right. Thanks.” Mari felt another of those pangs of guilt. She had been sniping at Alain over an old girlfriend of his, yet Alain was being perfectly reasonable about Mari’s need to see Calu. “I’m sorry I’ve been a little on edge.”
“A little?”
“Watch it.” She unbent enough to explain. “I’m worrying about so many things: about the dangers to you and me, and what to do, and how to get to Severun, and…to be honest, I’m also dealing with some pretty powerful emotions that I haven’t ever felt before, either. Sometimes I think they make me a little crazy.”
They found the bookstore without too much trouble. Mari paused on the street, staring south to where the usual large plaza opened out around the Mechanics Guild Hall. Mechanics Guild Halls had been her homes since she was a small child. They had been her safety and sanctuary against the outside world, they had been where her friends and co-workers were. She had been educated and trained in them. To have those Guild Halls be a place where enemies lurked was very disturbing, as if a long-trusted friend or a stern but loving parent had changed inside to be a deadly foe. Mari could sometimes go for long stretches now without being conscious of not wearing her Mechanics jacket, but this close to a Guild Hall she suddenly felt naked without it. She belonged in that Guild Hall, she should be wearing her jacket, and there should be no doubts or fears within her.