Wartorn Obliteration

'He'd be replaced. What good would that do?'

'About as much good as anything else your Broken Circle is liable to carry out.'

'You don't think much of us.'

'I don't.'

Bryck nodded, accepting this. 'What do you think of our aim, at least?'

'And it is?'

'To overthrow the Felk here in Callah, of course.'

Aquint appeared to be measuring his thoughts. Finally he said, somewhat grudgingly, 'To be rid of the Felk in Callah? Yes. A worthy goal.' He added, with another hint of drollery, 'Just between us, of course.'

Bryck moved a step closer. A bead of moisture had gathered on the tip of Aquint's nose. It fell when he cocked his head. He was curious about this, Bryck judged.

'We might have an even greater goal,' Bryck said quietly. 'One that we could actually accomplish.'

Aquint lifted a brow.

Bryck licked his lips. Aquint was their prisoner, but he might also be the key to all this. He and the renegade Felk wizard, Nievze, the practitioner of blood magic, which Deo and Radstac had told Bryck about. The long odds chafed Bryck's bygone gambler's instincts. But this was no game.

'Can you lure Abraxis here to Callah?' Bryck asked Aquint. He suddenly found himself a bit breathless. 'Because if you can... we might be able to end this entire war.'

* * *

There inside the scorched granary, with the drizzle finally thickening into actual rain and bringing with it an even chillier damp, Bryck explained the plan. He listened detachedly to himself as he revealed it to Aquint, and to his own ears it sounded wild, imprudent, nearly preposterous and fascinating.

It wasn't something he had ever imagined as a possible objective for this Broken Circle. It was hugely ambitious, far beyond the relatively safe and contained scope of operating covertly against the Felk garrison here in Callah. That at least was a manageable feat, more or less.

But these instruments had been seemingly placed deliberately into Bryck's hands, like a miraculous round of Dashes, where every card and dice throw has gone in one's absolute favor. He couldn't ignore the astonishing combination of all this.

It seemed... ordained. Not that Bryck put any sincere stock in the workings of the gods. To do so would be to acknowledge that those gods had permitted the annihilation of U'delph.

At last he finished. Aquint had listened without interruption, which Bryck didn't take as a sign one way or the other. Rain dribbled down onto the gummy black ashes flooring the granary's exposed interior.

Bryck let Aquint digest it. He had explained the plan to the Internal Security agent in succinct terms, without any rhetoric. Aquint didn't need to be won away from the Felk. He, too, Bryck guessed, had done some gambling in his time. He would want to weigh the odds. He would consider the gain and the risk. Both were considerable.

Quentis sneezed. Bryck looked her way as she tightened her coat across her shoulders. She was another factor in all this. She had made contact with Radstac and Deo. She had felt the ring of sincerity in Deo's wish to join the rebellion. She fit into that wonderful assembly of semi-improbabilities that had produced this fabulous scheme.

Bryck gave her a soft, tiny, candid smile, remembering the feel of her against himself, remembering how fine it had felt, physically and on levels deeper than that. Quentis smiled back.

'I can bring Abraxis to Callah,' Aquint said quite suddenly, in a tone that was almost comically conversational.

Bryck's head whipped back toward him. Behind, Deo stiffened noticeably. Radstac showed no reaction.

'You can?' Bryck heard himself ask dumbly.

A hardness came to Aquint's face. 'Before we get down to that, however, you send someone back to that godsdamned lot where you waylaid me. You find Cat's body and bring it to me. I want my friend buried. Properly. Even though he probably wouldn't care about it. Understand?'

Bryck nodded. 'It'll be done.'

Aquint looked up at the jagged remains of the roof. 'Now I'd like to get properly indoors. And if you could provide a cup of something with a little bite to it, so much the better. This has been quite a day.'

RAVEN (5)

Orders had come for the halt, then for the scrambling reorganization of the lines. Something big was happening, on top of the very obvious magnitude of the enemy army they were now clearly facing in the last fading bits of daylight.

Torches were being fired all around. They lit among the enemy ranks, too, points of light neatly delineating those large opposite numbers. That was a sizable army. The massive, collective glow of torchlight beat back the emerging pinprick lights of the stars above.

Were they going to fight a night battle? From what Raven had overheard from the soldiers around her, this Felk army had never undertaken a major engagement at night during this whole campaign.

Then again, this army had never faced an enemy so large and evidently organized.

Raven's heart was racing, but not entirely from fear. This was undeniably exhilarating.

This will be Weisel's true test, Vadya said.

Raven had climbed off her horse. She looked around at the frenzied activity. You mean Dardas's test. She was still astonished by what she'd learned from Kumbat. Vadya, too, had been surprised to learn that Lord Weisel was the vessel for Dardas, a warlord of the Northern Continent who had been resurrected two and a half hundredwinters after his death.

I think Dardas passed his tests centuries before either of us was born, Vadya said. But now, wearing the form of Weisel, he must vanquish a new enemy, with a new army. And if he succeeds, it will be Weisel who gets the credit.

Raven nodded, slowly. Resurrection magic certainly made for strange conceptions about identity. She knew it only too well.

You still haven't reported to Matokin, Vadya said.

I don't see how I could find Berkant in all this tangle, Raven said, referring to the Far Speak wizard who had a direct line of communication to Lord Matokin in Felk.

You're not going to report Kumbat's abduction? Vadya asked.

Raven softly bit her lip. I know I should...

But? Vadya prompted.

Is that really the right thing to do? Raven blurted, then immediately regretted it. She hadn't meant to reveal her misgivings to Vadya so nakedly.

After a long silence in Raven's head, Vadya said, Your loyalties are divided, between Matokin and Weisel—or is it Dardas?

Raven lowered her eyes to the ground. I do feel an allegiance to both men, she admitted.

It's a tricky situation you're in, Vadya said.

I know.

Raven looked around. It was difficult to get an overall sense of what was happening. Troops appeared to be shifting into new patterns, companies rearranging themselves, presumably to engage this enemy. The wizards, in their black robes, were being mobilized as well.

Whatever was happening, it was being done quickly, and on a massive scale. Raven wasn't among the combatants. Actually, she wasn't sure where her place was just now. Maybe she should go check on Kumbat. But no, he was being securely guarded.

Perhaps you should report to the general, Vadya suggested.

Raven noticed how Vadya had avoided naming him. Maybe it was strange, even for her, to think of Weisel