It was like that night at the battle for the farther cavern, when he had used his battle-sight to see every unit of the army at once. Only now it was the Wild-mages around him that he sensed, and he realized that he could draw upon their power as easily as he could call upon his own.
But right now that was not his task. Kellen relaxed as much as he could, remembering what Idalia had said —that this was
And then it was done.
Kindolhinadetil’s mirror radiated power like a furnace, the clear crystal sheet of mirror glowing with an inward light to the senses of a Wildmage—or Knight-Mage.
“One more of that will be more than enough for me,” Wirance said firmly, as soon as the shields had been dismissed. “Still, it will work.”
“And I think it is something
“To each fox his own hare,” Wirance said agreeably.
The assembly began to disperse. Jermayan, Ancaladar, and Idalia would remain here tonight, to ensure that the mirror was not tampered with—for even the most benign of reasons.
Kellen took the opportunity to walk back with Atroist. He wanted to hear how the migration of the Lostlanders into the Wild Lands had gone.
“All came, as Drothi promised,” Atroist said. “By the grace of the Good Goddess, it was as if the attention of the Dark Folk was turned elsewhere for that time, for if their creatures had harried us upon the way, we would not now be here. And the Firstlings met us far outside their own borders, with mules and wagons to speed the journey and see us safely through their own lands. Once we are settled in the west, the young men and the rest of the Wildmages will return to honor our bargain and join with the army… though it is not comfortable to hear that the Dark Folk have been seen in the Western Lands as well.”
“I did not know it when I asked your aid,” Kellen said. “I’m not certain how
“Nevertheless, the west is a soft and pleasant land,” Atroist said, “much in need of strong backs and hard workers to make it bloom. The Springtide will be a glorious sight.”
—«♦»—
HIS work that night was far from done, but fortunately the spell of preparing the mirror had taken very little of his energy. He went from the ice-pavilion to Redhelwar’s pavilion, where he briefed the Army’s General on Idalia’s plans, and the part the army would share in the spell.
For a healing, a physical link was needed between the Wildmage and those who shared in the price. Fortunately that wouldn’t be necessary in this case—or Vestakia could weave a cartload of blankets out of all the hair that would have to be gathered.
“You say you would wish to withhold certain elements of the army from sharing in the spell-price,” Redhelwar said. “It is… unlikely… that any will wish to refuse to pay the price, so it will save time to make our dispositions now.”
“The wounded will not participate, of course, nor will the Healers,” Kellen said. “I would wish to withhold a third of the army and support troops—in case of attack, and to deal with those matters which cannot be set aside, such as the care of the horses. Those who participate… they could fight if they had to, but they will be exhausted. Losses would be heavy.”
“And we have had too many losses already. So.”
Redhelwar brought out a thick—and much-amended—scroll listing each unit by name, and they got to work.
—«♦»—
WHEN their dispositions had been made, Redhelwar summoned his senior commanders, and Kellen had to explain the entire matter again, albeit in a much shorter version this time. Next, the senior commanders would brief their sub-commanders, who would explain matters to their commands.
Tomorrow at the morning meal, Redhelwar would address the army. When those of his
