Fire Logic

He stood up. “I wish the same for you.”

Chapter Sixteen

During the half day of furtive travel along back ways and across planted fields, and finally across a portion of the fens which entailed much wading hut at least was passable, Zanja had plenty of time to consider and reconsider her situation. Now, as sunset approached and she stopped on firm ground to strap her boots on before starting the last climb up the slope to the overlook, she marveled at how visible the campfires were. As she approached the camp her wonder only increased. No picket challenged her, and she walked into the heart of the encampment practically u

There was much distracted hustle and bustle, with goose being roasted on spits, the mess of occupation being tidied up, and many excited people clustered in arm‑waving conversations, for there never was a South Hiller who could talk without gesturing. At the smoky heart of the encampment, though, there was a stillness where Emil bowed and poured tea from his porcelain teapot. His three lieutenants flanked him, their faces pink with washing, dressed in their cleanest longshirts, their heavy boots tucked up close to their stocky farmer’s bodies. A

Zanja felt a great weariness, a heaviness so overwhelming she could not continue forward, and scarcely could continue to stand. Transfixed by this exhaustion, she did nothing when Councilor Mabin turned her attention to Zanja, as though, of all the gazes that were turned on her, it was Zanja’s that mattered. For a long, strange moment they looked into each other’s faces across the distance that separated them. Then she spoke to Emil, who hastily set down his teapot and walked over to Zanja.

“What’s the matter?” he asked her.

“The Sai

It seemed a measure of their friendship, or perhaps of Emil himself, that he did not even make her explain further, thus making it possible for her to avoid directly lying to him.

He said, “Well, our watchers would have noticed if a company had left the city gates yet–it’s still light enough to see. So we have some hours at least in which to decide what to do.”

“I think so.”

“You look weary to death.” Emil gripped her by the shoulder and somehow she became able to walk with him up to the smoky fire.

The general had never taken her gaze from them. Now she rose to her feet. “Zanja na’Tarwein?” All the other conversations around the fire fell abruptly silent.

“Madam Councilor,” Zanja said, “you may not remember, but we have met before.”

Mabin said, “I remember you. You are much changed in fifteen years.”

Zanja scarcely could fumble a reply as Mabin, the legendary author of Warfareand the head of Shaftal’s shadow government, expressed her sorrow over the massacre of the Ashawala’i and welcomed her formally into the Paladins. It was, or should have been, a triumph for Zanja to be greeted like this by the councilor herself, with all the company watching. But her status in South Hill no longer seemed relevant.

“Norina Truthken has written to me about you several times,” Mabm said.

Zanja felt quite witless. Emil said quietly, “Sit down–maybe some tea will help.”

Zanja sat beside A

Silence greeted Emil’s a

“That’s good,” Zanja said, then realized, when A

A

Zanja tried to pay attention to the discussion that swirled around her. Willis argued that South Hill Company should set a trap for the Sai

“We must not attack them!” Zanja cried. They all looked at her, but Zanja couldn’t think of an explanation for her reluctance to ambush the Sai

Emil said, “A

“Are we to spend the entire season ru

Emil’s hand pressed down heavily upon Zanja’s shoulder. She had not even noticed him coming around to her side, but the hand on her shoulder shored up her disintegrating discipline. Emil said,

“Willis, since you hold fire talent in such contempt, perhaps you might be happier in a company that does not have a presciant as its commander.”

Willis sat back, his face flushed. “I’m just sick and tired of missing our opportunities. Now that you have new counsel you pay no heed to the old.”

Emil could seem astonishingly harmless, but he did not look harmless at that moment. “You question my judgment, the councilor’s judgment, and gravely insult a fellow Paladin who has repeatedly risked her life this season, and this is all you have to say?”

There was another silence, then Willis, his face bright red, said, “I beg your pardon–sir. I meant no insult. I was overzealous.”

Emil said nothing. His hand still lay heavy upon Zanja’s shoulder.

Willis looked directly at Zanja and said, “I hope you will pardon me as well.” There was no mistaking the hatred with which he said these words.

Zanja wanted desperately to challenge him to a duel and win a more sincere apology on her own terms. But this was not the Asha Valley, and Willis was no katrim. She said, as stiffly as he had, “Of course I will pardon you.”

Everyone began to talk then, as though nothing had happened. But no one else suggested ambushing the Sai

JerrelPs infusion did little for Zanja’s headache. When Emil’s circle dispersed to spread the word that they were breaking camp, Zanja got to her feet and nearly fell over.

Emil caught her and said, “What is it? Are you ill?”

She said, “Willis thinks you are ripe for replacement and is just biding his time, waiting for you to prove yourself incompetent. But my precipitous rise in your esteem has made him think that I am a pretender to a position that he considers rightfully his.”