This was enough; the Dragonlords required no more to understand that the day was against them. These were soldiers, not fools. They understood when a battle was lost, and when there was no point throwing away their lives needlessly. Though they did not panic, they nevertheless, as if by a spoken order, retreated in some haste, making their way back the way they had come.
Tsanaali, seeing this, understood that his fight was lost for this instant, and called for a general retreat, and those on his side withdrew as well, leaving our friends alone on the field of battle.
Pel, now seeing Tsanaali, took two steps in the direction in which his enemy had left, but Aerich said, "Come, my dear, there is nothing to be gained in that."
"You are right," said Pel, sighing. "And yet, we have failed to kill them all."
Khaavren watched the retreating figures for a moment, then said, "Is anyone hurt?"
"I'm afraid," said Iatha, "that Thong is dead." The others of his friends gathered around him sadly, realizing that, by the flukes of combat, what had appeared to be a relatively benign cut on the cheek had somehow, in fact, caused the late brigand and now Imperial soldier to fall stone dead on the field.
"And Röaana is wounded," said Ibronka. "And that is my fault entirely." As she spoke, she knelt next to the Tiassa, saying, "My dear, are you hurt badly? I will never console myself!"
Röaana, who had not actually lost consciousness, opened her eyes and bravely attempted to give her friend a reassuring smile, which she accompanied by the whispered words, "I think it is not so bad."
The others quickly gathered over her, although Khaavren, Aerich, Tazendra, and Pel continued watching around them. Ibronka drew a knife, and, removing her cloak, began to make cuts in it. Clari, who had not been involved in the battle itself, cried out, "Mistress! What are you doing?"
"Clari, you should be able to see that I am making a bandage, or have you failed to observe that poor Röaana has been injured?"
"Oh, I noticed that," said Clari. "Only—"
"Well?"
"Your good cloak! What will your mother say?"
"But then, it seems to me that Röaana requires bandaging more than I require a cloak."
"I do not dispute that, but you must observe, mistress, that there are dead people here. Cannot one of their cloaks be used?"
"How," said Kytraan, in a tone of outrage. "Strip the clothing of a warrior who fell in honorable combat?"
"Impossible," agreed Aerich.
"Unlikely," said Tazendra.
"Unthinkable," said Khaavren and Pel together.
"Well," said Mica softly to Lar, "I would offer my own cloak, but, alas, I do not have one."
"You do not?" said Lar. "Well, in fact, neither do I. We should find cloaks."
"I agree, my friend, but I think we ought not to strip the dead to do it. It would go hard with us if we did."
"I am convinced you are right."
As this conversation was taking place, Ibronka, aided by Piro, was binding up Röaana's leg.
"We ought to find a physicker," said Ibronka.
"In these mountains?" said Tazendra. "There is none. We must do the best we can. Someone should boil water."
"For what reason?" said Röaana, appearing somewhat more uneasy about the concept of boiling water than about the deep wound in her leg.
"I don't know," said Tazendra. "But it is something Sethra Lavode told me to do."
"We must also tend to the wounded of our enemies," said Zerika, speaking for the first time.
"As Your Majesty wishes," said Khaavren at once.
"Do you think they will return?" said Kytraan.
Khaavren shrugged. "Who can say?"
"Alas," said Pel, who was looking through his touch-it glass. "I fear they will not. They are re-forming, and appear about to ride away."
"And their wounded?" said Aerich.
Pel shrugged. "Perhaps they will leave horses for them. But we have greater concerns than that, I'm afraid."
Khaavren looked at him. "Well?"
Pel removed the glass from his eye and said, "Grita."
Chapter the Forty-Fifth
How Some Decisions Were Made
Following the Battle of South Mountain
Khaavren and Aerich frowned, and Tazendra turned quickly to look at the Yendi. "What of her?" they said.
"She is now speaking with Tsanaali, who is the captain who led the attack against us."
"Grita and Tsanaali," suggested Khaavren.
"Tsanaali and Kâna," observed Pel.
"Grita and Kâna," concluded Aerich grimly.
"What must be done?" said Tazendra.
Pel frowned. "That is a good question, Tazendra."
"Is it? Then I am gratified."
"And you are right to be. Alas, however, I do not know the answer."
"Well, don't be vexed at it," said the Dzurlord kindly.
"You perceive," continued Pel as if Tazendra hadn't spoken, "Kâna will now be told that the Orb has returned, and where it is, and he will send all of his forces against us."
"Not against us," said Khaavren. "Against Dzur Mountain."
"Dzur Mountain?" said Pel.
"Exactly. We must go to Dzur Mountain as quickly as possible, and I should be astonished if he were unable to make that calculation."
Tazendra looked around. "Must we go there? This is a strong position to defend," she said.
"Against tens of thousands?" said Pel, smiling.
"Why not?" said Tazendra naively. "We did before."
Pel stared at her, uncertain of how to respond to this enormity.
Zerika said, "I beg you to remember that we are not entirely without resources. That is to say, as you yourself have observed, the Orb has returned. Apropos," she added to Tazendra, "my dear, the next time you attempt sorcery, or wizardry, whatever it is you are doing, you may wish to remember that there is the Orb available to you now; it may make your work easier."
Tazendra looked startled at this remark Her Majesty had condescended to address to her, and then settled in to consider it. As she was doing so, Pel observed, "Well, what Your Majesty does us the honor to tell us is true. But then?"
"Bide," said Zerika. She then closed her eyes, as if to concentrate, and, at once, the Orb began to pulse with a color somewhere between a pale green and a faint orange, if such a thing can be imagined. After a moment, she opened her eyes again, and the Orb's color returned to a more pleasing azure.
"I believe," said the Empress, "that I will soon become better at this."
"If Your Majesty will permit a question—" said Pel.
Zerika nodded and, anticipating the Yendi's question, answered it. "I have informed Sethra Lavode of what has happened here, and what we expect to happen next."
"I see," said Pel. "But, Your Majesty, is there anything she can do?"
The Empress shrugged. "She is Sethra Lavode."
"Well, that is undeniable," said Pel, although he did not appear to be convinced.
Ibronka finished bandaging Röaana's leg, and said, "There. Let us see if you can stand."
"Bah. What does it matter if I can stand? I'm convinced that I can ride." Nevertheless, with the Dzurlord's help, she attempted to rise to her feet only to collapse again, not so much from the injury to her leg as from weakness caused by loss of blood.
"Well," said Khaavren, frowning, "it is not clear to me that you are able to ride after all. But this, you must see, is unimportant in any case, as I fear we have nothing to ride."
"Our horses?" said Tazendra.
"I believe that our late opponents in combat have chosen to take our horses with them."
"All of them?" cried Kytraan.
"So it seems," said the Tiassa coolly.
"I am not certain how well I can walk," said Röaana, whose position on the ground spoke more eloquently than her words. "You must leave me here."
"After you have recovered some of your strength, we will fashion you a cratch," said Ibronka, ignoring, as did all
of the others, her offer to remain behind.
"We have no hope of catching them in any case," said Aerich.
"Nor," added Piro, "have we any hope of caring for their wounded."
Pel shrugged, as if this last detail were of no interest to him.
Khaavren looked around, frowned, then said, "With Her Majesty's permission, I think we will remain here for tonight, and rest. There is no reason to hurry, as we cannot catch them anyway. A good night's sleep will do us all good, and we will see how our brave Röaana feels in the morning."
"If that is your advice, Captain," said Zerika, "then that is what we will do."
Khaavren's nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed at hearing himself addressed by this title. He started to speak, but Zerika pretended not to notice, and turned away to say a few words of sympathy to Röaana.
Khaavren said, "Your Majesty—"
Zerika turned to him. "I am speaking with another. Do not interrupt your Empress, Captain."
As she gave him this title again, he once more opened his mouth to speak, but Zerika had already turned back to Ibronka, and was conversing with her. Khaavren turned toward Aerich, only to find that the Lyorn appeared to have become fascinated by the peculiar rock formations one can see on and from the South Mountain. Khaavren scowled and said nothing.
Piro turned to Lar. "You and Mica and… you," he said, indicating Clari, "set our camp up here."
Lar bowed and, collecting the other servants, set about doing as he was told. In the meantime, Grassfog, Iatha, Ritt, and Belly stood around their late companion, Thong, speaking in low tones. Brigands though they had been, they were offered condolences and sympathies by the others as they shared memories and respectfully divided Thong's belongings among themselves.
"It is sad," observed Grassfog, "that our friend here is dead, and we have no wine."
"It is your custom," inquired Piro, "to become drunk when a friend dies?"
"Not in the least," said Grassfog. "I was merely making an observation about two conditions that are both true, and both regrettable."
Aerich and Khaavren did what they could to see to the comfort of the Dragonlords who were wounded but alive, including Stonecutter, who, in spite of his opinion when struck, was not dead, although his wound was painful and Aerich thought nothing good of it.
As this chapter of our history concerns the process of decision-making that followed the skirmish, we hope the reader will not be alarmed if we move from the scene of the battle to the place where, as Pel had observed, Grita was engaged in conversation with Tsanaali. She approached the captain boldly, riding out at a cool walk to where the Dragonlord had assembled his troop, along with all of the horses they had gathered up on the way. When she came to him, she said simply, "So you failed."
Tsanaali shrugged. "Their position was strong, and their defense determined. We could not get through them."
"Bah. Outnumbering them three to one—"
"Madam, if you have something to say, you may do yourself the honor of saying it. And, if the thoughts in your head are those indicated by your countenance, you may go have words with the Yendi on yonder mountain, because he has those same thoughts, and the two of you may decide the order in which you should like me to entertain you. Until you have made this decision, madam, permit me to go about my business. There are matters I must attend to. These matters may or may not be important, but I give you my word, I care about them far more than I care about your evaluation of how I carry out my duties."
"You will be getting a message to K—to His Majesty?"
"I will."
"And you will tell him of my service to you? Of how I warned you of the perfidy of the Yendi, and told you where to find the Orb?"
"I will tell him."
"And, do you think he will be grateful?"
Tsanaali looked at Grita closely, thinking that she did not have the aspect of someone who would be likely to ask such a question. "Well, what is it you wish to know?"
"If I can accompany you."
"You wish to come along with my troop?"
"Yes."
"And why would you wish for such a thing?"
"Because you will be where the Orb goes, and where the Orb goes, my enemies go. And I wish to be there when they die."
"I see."
"And I hasten to add that it may be to—His Majesty's—advantage."
"Oh? In what way?"
"As to that, I will not now say, Captain, save there will be certain services that I shall ask of His Majesty, and that I know of, well, let us say of certain resources which I believe he will be grateful to have. And you may tell His Majesty that if I get what I want, I will gladly put these resources at his disposal, and I promise you he will not be the loser in such an exchange."
Tsanaali studied her carefully—disliking her intensely, yet aware that she could be of service to His Majesty Kâna. At last he said, "Very well," and, before she could say anything, he turned away from her. Then, calling his company into formation, he led the way, as quickly as he could, toward Dzur Mountain.
And, as we have brought up the subject of that enigmatic feature of the landscape, let us turn our attention thither and see what is passing in the home of Sethra Lavode.
With Tazendra having left on a mission, and the Necromancer having left on another, the Enchantress was, as we look upon her, alone save for her servant, Tukko. And yet, it is safe to say that she was never alone, because she always had with her the dagger whose name has come down to us as Iceflame, and, through this weapon, she had with her, at all times, Dzur Mountain. The exact nature of the relationship between mountain and enchantress is beyond the scope of this work, but it is fitting and proper that, as we look upon her, we remember that they were a part of each other in a way that is as undeniable as it is incomprehensible.
She walked through her home aimlessly, as if it didn't matter exactly where within her domain she happened to be. She walked with her head bowed and her eyes, in fact, closed—although it should be no surprise to the reader that, after as long as she had dwelt there, she did not need her sense of sight to know where she was or where she was going or what obstacles, if any, might be in her way. And, as she walked, her right hand would occasionally touch the hilt of Iceflame.
And, as she walked, she began to speak in very low tones, her lips barely moving, though there did not appear to be anyone in sight with whom to hold a conversation. At a certain point in this inaudible conversation with no one, she went so far as to draw her dagger from its place at her hip, holding it in the gentle but firm grip of one who knew its length, and with this grip, moved it in a manner that seemed to be meaningless, as if she were paying no attention to the arm, the hand at its end, or the poniard it held. She continued her apparently aimless walk, and apparently senseless utterances, and apparently meaningless gestures for some time, until, finding herself in the kitchen, she opened her eyes to see Tukko there.
"Well," she addressed this worthy. "I have done all that I can."
"The mountain?"
"Dzur Mountain is now protected, as well as it can be."
"And the Empire itself?"
"I attended to that over the last several days. As I have said, my friend, I have done what I can."
Tukko glanced up at her. "And what of the Gods? Have they done all they can?"
"They can do nothing until the crisis is at hand."
"Yes," said Tukko. "At which time, no doubt, they will be helpless."
Sethra chuckled. "That is their custom, isn't it? But you know they are more tightly bound than you are."
"That is as may be, madam," said Tukko severely. "But you know that I prefer not to discuss my own condition."
"And yet, if we do not discuss it—"
"Is now the time, madam?"
Sethra sighed. "No, my dear friend, I imagine it is not."
"Well then?"
"Well then, as I said, I believe I have done all that I can."
"What of the emissary the God
s have sent?"
"I have instructed her not to return. She will do more good with the little Dragon than she will here."
"Perhaps you are right, young one," said Tukko. "But the Dragon is unpredictable, and the demon is unknown. It is not good that they are all we have to depend on."
Sethra Lavode permitted an expression of annoyance to cross her countenance, no doubt at the appellation "young one," which she had never liked. "They are not all we have to depend on, as you know very well."
"Oh, you speak of steel."
"Do not disparage steel. The Empress, it seems, has just won a sort of victory against the forces who oppose her. And all of our arcane activities will be worthless if the Empress is defeated by an army. That would be the end of the Orb, and another fifty years without the Orb, and I do not think anything can keep them out. Indeed, with its re-emergence, they must have become aware of my illusions, and it is unlikely we can keep them out for a week should it vanish again."
"Oh, I do not disparage steel. Yet that is not where the real threat lies. Something must be done."
Sethra said, "I should be delighted to learn more, if you have any suggestions as to what we can do."
"I have none."
"Well then, we are doing what we can. Above all the Orb must be protected. Once it is secure—"
"We both know," said Tukko, "that the Orb will be on our side. The question is, will it be enough?"
"We both know," said Sethra, with somewhat of a mocking edge to her voice, "that the Jenoine are a far greater threat than the upstart from the west. But—"
"Yes," said Tukko. "But. But the one from Kanefthali can open the way for the Makers. That is what I worry about."
"Yes, and it is against just this threat that I have put up safeguards around the Great Sea, as well as around the mountain, as you know very well, Dri'Chazik a Tukknaro Dzurr."
Tukko shrugged, ignoring the use of his full title, which always meant the Enchantress was annoyed. "We both know you are more subtle and skilled than I am. But have you the skill to truly protect us from the Makers?"
"If I do not, who does?"
"The Necromancer."
"How, you think so?"