Wartorn: Resurrection

"You don't consider yourselves wizards above all? Interesting. I would've thought that would come first."

The male wizard chewed at his lower lip. "We are, of course ... loyal... to our arts as well."

Deo nodded. "And that doesn't conflict with your loyalty to your state? Well, I suppose it needn't necessarily. Forgive me. I've never met a magician, outside of carnival hucksters. You are, frankly, fascinating."

He was using his charm, Radstac noted. How effortlessly the Petgrad noble could put another at ease, even under conditions like this. It was impressive.

"I imagine you're valuable assets to your military," he went on. "From the stories we've heard about what the Felk have done in the north"—he grunted a wry laugh— "I wish we had a company of wizards for ourselves."

The female wizard glanced shyly around. "You're not... bandits?" she asked softly.

Deo laughed aloud now, the sound rich and infectious.

"Some of us are," he said. "But others among us have other purposes. Toward those purposes I must now ask you questions."

Radstac's palm rested on her sword's scratched pommel. Her colorless eyes watched the pair carefully. It was u

At the first sign of anything untoward, she would naturally lop off their heads.

"Tell me," Deo said gently, "what sort of magic is it that you work?"

He simply waited for their answers. And after a moment's reluctance they divulged. Deo nodded, listening. A polite, attentive audience.

"Now, what exactly is Far Speak and Far Movement magic?" the nephew of the premier of Petgrad asked.

RAVEN (4)

LOYALTY, SHE HAD found, was a complicated thing.

She had sworn allegiance routinely to Matokin while at the Academy. It sometimes seemed like a daily exercise, like the spells she and her fellow students had practiced so repetitiously. But she had also privately dedicated herself to the Felk emperor, not least because he was, she continued to believe, her father.

Raven had also sworn to carry out her duties when she personally received this assignment from Lord Matokin himself. That meeting had been the single greatest thrill of her young life. She had been charged with, among other responsibilities, spying on the Felk war commander.

But, now that she was here at General Weisel's side, didn't she also owe him some measure of loyalty? He had, after all, taken her into his confidence and shown as much faith in her talents as Matokin had demonstrated. Maybe more.

But Weisel had talked treason, hadn't he? She had to report to Matokin. When she at last resolved to do so, she was ashamed that she had hesitated so long.

Weisel had given her new orders. She would carry those orders out. But first, she would find Berkant, the Far Speak mage.

She was getting used to traveling with the army, though the sight of so many troops and so much

mobile equipment was still very impressive. She found her way through the camp to the mage's tent. Scuttlebutt had it that the army would mobilize tomorrow, once the portals had been arranged. The soldiers would be Far Moved the remaining distance to Trael, and they would invade and capture the city.

Raven knew the real plan, though. Weisel had entrusted her with the knowledge. He had even recruited her to play a key role in the incredible scheme. She couldn't help but glow a little from that.

Nevertheless, she had to speak to Lord Matokin.

"Mage Berkant," she said, presenting herself, "I am Raven, newly arrived from the Academy, and I—"

"I know who you are," the wizard said. "Come inside."

His tent was small but private.

"I must communicate with Lord Matokin." She had brought along the scroll that contained her orders, just for good measure.

"Very well. It will take a moment to arrange."

Berkant seated himself on a folding chair, taking up a piece of fabric and squeezing it tightly in his hand. Raven understood. Though she certainly couldn't perform anything as complex as a Far Speak spell, she at least grasped the principles. That cloth no doubt came from an item of clothing that belonged to the wizard who Berkant was communicating with.

Raven wondered when she would be able to resume her studies of magic. She had so much left to learn. But... wasn't this much more exciting than being at the Academy? Here she was participating actively, not just passively absorbing. She was caught up in a fascinating intrigue that involved the two most powerful men in the whole empire, Lord Matokin and General Weisel. Her life certainly wasn't boring these days.

Berkant's face gradually lost all expression. His eyes stared dully forward. When he spoke, it was as if with another voice.

"Raven, I have been expecting your report." She felt a fierce stab of guilt. She should have done this days ago. "I-I am sorry, Lord. I—"

"What have you to tell us?" Matokin, speaking through Berkant, cut her off.

Raven scrambled to get her thoughts together, realizing she should have rehearsed this ahead of time. "General Weisel first questioned me about Far Movement magic. But he had already deduced that my knowledge of such powerful spells was very limited."

"Raven, Lord Abraxis is here with me. He wishes to know why the general was interested in Far Movement."

So, she was in the "presence" of both the emperor and the chief of imperial security once again.

"The general seemed to want some firsthand knowledge of that particular magic," she said carefully. "He seemed to think it would aid him in employing it in the field." Which, she silently added, still made sense to her.

"I see." It was as if someone else were moving Berkant's lips. The effect was eerie.

"Also, Lord," Raven said, her hands bunching into little fists, "General Weisel has made some unusual comments."

"Regarding what?"

"Regarding ... you." Why did it feel like she was betraying the general? She was only doing her duty.

Unexpectedly, Berkant's face twisted with laughter. His chortles filled the tent. Raven stared, confused.

Finally he said, "I doubt very much, young Raven, that anything the good general might say about myself would surprise me. Let us just put it down to hasty words, shall we?"

"As you wish, sir," she said.

"Is there anything else?"

Raven caught herself just before she spoke. If her news wasn't important enough for Matokin to even listen to, she didn't see why she should say anything further.

"Nothing, Lord," she heard herself say.

"Carry on, then." Berkant's hand opened and the piece of cloth fell into his lap. He blinked, recovering

himself

"My thanks, Mage Berkant," Raven said. "Only doing my job," he said, waving her off. Yes, she thought, exiting the tent. So was she.

SHE HAD PLANNED to inform Matokin about Weisel's unorthodox scheme involving the Far Movement portals. She had even meant to tell the emperor about her part in the plan. But Lord Matokin seemed uninterested in what she had to say. She felt silly now for having fretted so much about making the report.

Why wasn't her father showing her more attention? She had certainly thought this assignment was an' important one. Maybe Matokin had plans for her that she couldn't even guess at. Maybe. But why not tell her now?

Raven realized with a start that she was virtually pouting. That was an adolescent pursuit. It was beneath her. She was nearly two tenwinters old, an adult.

As an adult she had adult responsibilities. That meant serving Weisel as much as it meant serving Lord Matokin. It was time she got on with her duties to the general.

She sought out the unit of Far Movement mages. Weisel had written her an order that gave her the authority to use these powerful wizards' abilities. Moments later a portal was being opened for her.