The silence as they walked back down the hallway felt oppressive. Alain felt the need to break it with speech. “The lives of the acolytes are supposed to be as nothing, but the council of elders know that a mass killing would arouse fear and anger in Mages who are not supposed to admit to either emotion. Fear and anger to be directed at you, along with the rejection of any suggestion that other paths of wisdom might be explored.”
“I suppose if you don’t care about individual life,” Mari said in a low voice, “then it’s a lot easier to give orders to end a lot of lives.”
“It is a flaw in the wisdom of the Guild,” Alain said.
“A flaw? Alain, flaws are things like a crack in metal or a design with too little attention to detail. Something that leads people to order mass murder is not just a flaw!”
“It is a bigger thing,” Alain agreed. “I do not always use words well.”
“I’m sorry. I know that. And I can see how upset you are inside by this. That elder cared, didn’t he? He didn’t show a trace of it that I could see, but it sounded like he cared about the acolytes.”
“He does, though he will not admit it even to himself,” Alain said. “He did not live for his sake, but to ensure that their deaths did not serve the purpose intended by those who ordered the killing.”
They stepped back into the open air, Alain turning to close the door behind Mari. It was no longer locked, but he did not fear any commons sneaking inside a place that filled them with terror.
Major Danel and several of his soldiers stood not far away, clearly tense but determined to help if needed. “What was done here is done,” Alain told them. He raised his voice, speaking to the officials and people of Danalee watching nervously from a distance. “All but one of the Mages and acolytes inside are dead, by their own hands or by the hands of elders sent by the Mage Guild. More Mages will come. Do not hinder them. You will not be blamed, for there is one left alive inside who will tell the Mages who come that this ill act is the work of the Mage Guild.” He walked slowly to where his horse waited, grateful that the air outside the Guild Hall was not tainted by the stench of spilled blood.
Even though Mari was clearly very upset as well, she took the lead in further conversation with the officials of Danalee. “When other Mages come, they won’t even think to blame the city for what happened,” she explained. “They know you couldn’t have done it. If they ask you what you know, tell them honestly that you had no knowledge of it beforehand and had nothing to do with it. They’ll know you’re not lying.”
That did not seem to greatly reassure the leaders of Danalee. Being forced to host a Mage Guild Hall was a worry they were accustomed to. Having a Mage Guild Hall full of dead Mages was a new and frightening thing. A clamor went up. “They’re not human! They’ll destroy the city! What can we do? We need the daughter here!”
“You don’t need me. Just do as we say, and you’ll be fine,” Mari told them again.
“But they’re Mages—"
“They won’t blame you.”
“How can you be sure? You must stay, so you can deal with them.”
“Who the blazes knows more about Mages?” Mari yelled, her nerves worn. “Me, or you? I am telling you, they will not blame you for this! You couldn’t have done it! They know commons couldn’t have done this!”
She pulled herself into the saddle to make herself taller. “Listen! The Mage Guild sought to blame me for what is in that Guild Hall! Me! Not anyone else here, not anyone in Danalee! The wrath of the Mage Guild is aimed at me and will follow me to Dorcastle! As for the Mages who come here to see this Guild Hall, their wrath will be centered on the elders who run their Guild and ordered the massacre here!”
Alain put on his most impassive Mage voice, the lack of feeling in it contrasting more strongly than usual with the emotion in Mari’s words. “Do you not believe the words of the daughter? Do you wish to delay us further? We are needed in Dorcastle.”
That shut off the debate, either because they recognized the truth of his words or because they were afraid to argue with a Mage.
When they reached the rest of the column again and the delayed procession resumed, the crowds began cheering louder. Major Sten leaned close to speak to Mari and Alain. “The word racing through the city is that the daughter has confronted the Mages inside their own Guild Hall and defeated them.”
“What lies in that Guild Hall is not anything I want to take credit for!” Mari told him.
“Enough heard the truth that it will eventually catch up with the rumor running ahead of it. The Mages who did this act were fanatics, then, willing to murder and kill themselves on orders from their leaders?”
“Apparently.”
Alain spoke again, even though he wanted to sink into silent isolation. “It has become more and more widely known that Mages such as myself are accepting others as real and yet retaining their powers. This strikes at the heart of the wisdom the Mage Guild has long insisted upon. The elders have become desperate in their efforts to discredit Mages such as me, and to discredit Mari, who is called ‘elder’ by the Mages who follow her.”
“Desperate people can do awful things,” Sten commented. “At least actions such as this prove the Mage Guild thinks you are winning.”
Mari closed her eyes. “If what happened inside that Mage Guild Hall was a victory for me, I hope I never win another like it.”
Sten nodded somberly and reined in his horse to fall back into the rank of riders behind Mari and Alain. Mari leaned close to speak into Alain’s ear so no others could hear. “They were trying to get me to stay in Danalee! Did you hear that? A lot of them wanted to leave Dorcastle to its fate as long as I stayed here to defend this city against a nonexistent threat from the Mage Guild!”
Alain shook his head. “A city such as this could not be defended against an attack the size of the Imperial expedition. It would fall easily.”
“I thought so, too! Don’t they understand that if Dorcastle falls, Danalee won’t stand a chance?”
“They look no further than their own fears,” Alain said, “and seek to wrap us in their own illusion. They will try again before we leave. We cannot let them slow our progress, for with every delay they will seek to impede us again."
She gave him a worried look, then nodded.
The city leaders of Danalee led the column into another plaza, this one home to the city hall, and announced a grand celebration and dinner to be held for the daughter, while the representatives of the refugees from Dorcastle tried not to scowl. “Join us inside the hall!”
“We can’t wait,” Mari said, staying in the saddle, her voice pleasant but as hard as the steel that Mechanics used in their weapons. “We need to board the barges and head downriver to Dorcastle as fast as we can get there.”
“But if you’re here when the other Mages arrive, and you say your army is coming along behind, so you should wait—"
“Hold on!” a Confederation official objected.
An argument broke out among the representatives of Danalee and those of the Confederation and the refugees from Dorcastle. As words grew more heated, Major Sten, trying to look impassive but obviously unhappy to Alain’s eyes, beckoned to Mari and began riding toward one of the streets leading off the plaza. Mari and Alain followed, the Tiae cavalry staying with them.
“Where are they going?” Alain heard one of the city officials demanding.
Mari heard as well. She rose in her stirrups and yelled a reply that filled the air. “I’m going to Dorcastle!”
The roar of approval from the crowd drowned out whatever answer any of the city leaders might have made.
A few more blocks took them to the docks on the Silver River, where barges were lined up, including large open craft with ramps leading aboard for the horses. The area erupted into a bustle of soldiers dismounting, collecting gear and saddlebags and weapons, being assigned to barges, and tramping aboard with relieved smiles because they would be able to make the last leg to Dorcast
le on wooden decks, considerably more comfortable than staying in the saddle.
Major Sten, looking despondent, gestured toward the nicest of the waiting barges. “For you, Lady Master Mechanic, and you, Sir Mage.”
“It is not your fault,” Alain said.
Sten stared at Alain. “They tried to delay her here when every moment matters. My own people, and they—"
“Are afraid. For their homes and families.” Alain nodded toward Major Danel, who stood speaking with a few of his cavalry before they boarded a barge. “I was once taught to forget what ‘help’ meant. It was forbidden even to speak the word. Mages are taught to care about none but themselves. Perhaps that is why I see help the more clearly now. To think of others when danger threatens you is not an easy thing. I am grateful for those like you and our escort from Tiae, who will risk all for those who need it. That is all that matters.”
“Thank you, Sir Mage,” Sten said, his face working with emotion. “It will be a great honor to fight alongside you and the daughter at Dorcastle. I hope we are not too late.”
Alain followed Major Sten and Mari aboard the barge, standing by the large, shoulder-high deckhouse as the barge pushed off and the crew began poling out into the river where the current would help drive the boat downstream. Mari held onto Alain to keep herself steady as she waved back to the people seeing them off, holding the position until the crowds had dwindled and the tallest buildings in Danalee had disappeared behind them as the sun set.
Mari finally collapsed onto the blankets placed on the deck for bedding. “I don’t want to move again until we reach Dorcastle,” she told Alain.
“I will bring you food and water,” he said.
“No! You shouldn’t wait on me!” But before Mari could struggle to her feet again a soldier came by bearing trays of grilled meat, fruit, and jugs of watered wine for both her and Alain.
They sat on the barge’s deck, their backs against the deckhouse, watching the river banks roll by and the stars appear overhead. “You have become suddenly more tense,” Alain said. “Is it concern for what may come?”
Mari shook herself slightly to try to relax. “No. I’m sorry. It’s memories of old fears. The last time we were on a river was our escape from Marandur. Everything reminds me of something scary or dangerous now, Alain. By the time this is over, will there be anything we can just enjoy?”
“Each other, I hope,” Alain said, wanting to take her mind off of past and future dangers. “I have decided it is that star,” he added pointing upward.
“What star?” she asked, squinting at the sky.
“The star the great ship came from, the star that warms Urth. You see the Great Roc?” he said, gesturing toward the arrangement of stars that formed a constellation resembling the outline of an immense bird. “Just beyond and above it, there, as if the Great Roc is flying to it. I have decided that is the star.”
“I hope you’re right!” Mari said, laughing. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it was that star? Won’t it be wonderful when the librarians can finally use that transmitter to try to speak with Urth? There is so much to learn. I hope I have time to learn everything.”
“You would not be happy if you knew everything,” Alain said.
“I guess not,” she agreed, snuggling down next to him. “I like learning new things. I hope… Alain, have you had any visions of Dorcastle since that one of the battle? Anything that could tell us how it will go?”
He stared at the sky, wishing that she had not asked that question. “Do you want to know?”
He felt her body grow rigid again. “Is it about us losing?”
“No. What I have seen tells nothing of that.”
“But you don’t want to talk about it. I can tell.” She sat up, looking at him. “You saw something about me, didn’t you?”
“I did,” Alain said, desperately wishing that she would not ask for more.
“Something about me that you don’t want to talk about.” Mari inhaled a long shuddering breath. “Dead?”
“No.”
“That’s…good.”
“I do not know if it showed anything at Dorcastle. All I saw was you. You were…hurt.”
“It could have been a warning about someplace else?” Mari rubbed her face with both hands.
“Something that could happen,” Alain said. He believed that, he told himself. He would not allow himself to believe that what he had seen was certain to happen.
“That’s not as bad as I feared. I mean, it sounds like what we’ve been worried about for years now. One of us getting hurt. And we already have been hurt, sometimes.” Mari relaxed herself slightly against him again. “I’m too tired to worry about another possible thing that might happen. It’s not like I haven’t been dealing with my fears of just that. I wish you had seen something nice, though.”
Despite his own weariness, Alain remained awake long after Mari had dropped into exhausted slumber. He could not stop thinking about the carnage inside the Mage Guild Hall. All Mages knew that the elders could be ruthless. But he had never heard of anything like the mass death in the Guild Hall.
Desperation. As Major Sten had said, that was the only explanation that fit. The elders, who were supposed to be above any such emotions, were so worried about the numbers of Mages joining Mari’s forces in search of different paths to wisdom that they had become desperate enough to take extreme action. Just as the Great Guilds had become desperate enough to risk giving the Empire power over enough of the world to potentially make the Empire too powerful for the Great Guilds to control.
Complacent foes, certain of victory, would limit their moves. Desperate foes might do anything.
Alain remembered what Mari had said, that she wished he had seen something nice. He realized only then that he had seen nothing of the two of them after the war, no foresight visions of them together and at peace. Part of him knew that meant nothing, that foresight never showed everything and might not show anything. But another part of him worried, because that vision of Mari badly hurt was the last he had seen, and nothing beyond that.
He fell asleep at last and dreamed he was once again among the awful ruins of the dead city of Marandur. He was alone, searching for Mari, and he could not find her.
* * * *
Despite her tiredness, aches from the long ride north woke Mari early. Even with the barge crews adding their efforts to the swift river current, the journey downriver to Dorcastle would require all this day and the following night. With luck, they would reach the city the next morning.
The chance to rest was both welcome and hard to accept. While she needed the time to recover, Mari chafed at inactivity when the Imperial expedition might arrive at Dorcastle at any moment. What if they made it too late, encountering the defeated remnants of the Confederation forces fleeing south?
“There isn’t any other place to make a stand if Dorcastle falls,” Major Sten said gloomily. He stood near Mari, looking north as if he might catch a view of events taking place far beyond their sight. “Jules warned about that when the Bakre Confederation was founded. Hold Dorcastle, she said, or you will lose the Confederation. From Dorcastle the Imperial legions would be able to march all the way to Danalee and take that city, then either turn west to seize Debran and the areas around Lake Annan, or continue south to assault Tiae. Your army would have to try to defend the line of the Glenca River, but that’s a very long front to cover.”
While riding the barge offered physical relief, it didn’t offer much in the way of emotional respite. The barges carrying Mari, Alain, and the Tiae cavalry passed barges being towed upriver, each one loaded with anxious children and elderly commons leaving the Dorcastle area. The road alongside the river hosted a constant stream of refugee traffic, heading for the dubious refuge of Danalee.
Major Sten had ordered that Mari’s banner be posted on the barge, which told all who saw it that the daughter was heading for the endangered city. Mari had to meet the pleading and frightened gazes of all they p
assed. She tried to project cheerful confidence despite the fears gnawing at her guts as the day passed and they drew ever closer to Dorcastle.
Sten cupped his hands around his mouth and shouted at a courier who had come into sight riding south at a fast clip. “What news?”
The courier slowed his horse long enough to yell a reply. “The Imperials had not yet arrived when I left! I have been sent to ask that any regular troops that can be spared be sent north!”
“Ride on, then!” Sten shouted. “Tell anyone you meet that the daughter is on her way to the city, and brings with her a valiant band of cavalry from the Kingdom of Tiae to help fight for the freedom of us all!”
“Then hope still lives! I will tell everyone, sir!” The courier urged his horse back to a quicker pace and soon vanished from view.
Mari tried her far-talker several times throughout the day, first attempting to contact any of her forces which were close enough, then shifting frequencies to try to overhear anything said by Mechanics still loyal to the Guild. But she heard nothing from her own people, and only a few faint words from Mechanics Guild loyalists before those were lost.
“It is broken?” Alain asked. He had learned enough about Mechanic devices to know that when Mari shook one in frustration that it probably wasn’t working.
“No,” Mari sighed, looking up into a sky dotted with clouds. “We’re in a river valley, moving deeper into it as we get closer to Dorcastle. There’s something about the air in places like this that stops far-talkers from being able to hear each other.”
“Something stops the invisible waves?”
“I guess you could say that.”
Alain looked upward as well. “Like invisible cliffs?”
“I don’t know. It’s something to do with pressure and temperature in the air. The Senior Mechanics never let us learn that kind of thing, but I’ve gotten that much from some of the banned technology texts we recovered from Marandur.” Mari’s attention had been focused to the north for a long time, but now she looked south and west. “Do you think the Syndaris have attacked Pacta yet?”