named Irian and was Tahal's great uncle if I remembered correctly. I would tell him only that I had become aware of the situation and would try to find a way to help their son should an opportunity arise while I was in the north. The response might tell me something even if they did not open their plans to me. I could get an answer as early as the next evening if I wrote the letter tonight.
12
The battle mages had set out an extra chair for me.
The tall battle mage smiled as I joined them, indicating the empty chair. “Please take a seat, Sumto. I am Larner Harrat, as you doubtless already know.” I didn't.
The small table beside the chair already held a large goblet of a deep red wine. I didn't touch it. I might take a sip later, or I might not. I had been drinking watered wine but I could tell at a glance this was not watered. I'm not saying I didn't want the drink, but I was being disciplined about it and to my surprise I wasn't that bothered about it. My boozing days might not be over but they were over for now, which is what counted in my mind. I felt virtuous as I sat down and thanked my host.
“These are Abrat and Hettar. And the student is Ferrian.”
I greeted them all and received casual replies. First names. Very informal all of a sudden, I thought. Very friendly. I had recognized the family name Harrat, but only just. A new noble family, small and fairly insignificant. I guessed the others were of even smaller and more obscure families, knights perhaps. Technically nobles and so entitled to buy stone, and some knights were wealthy enough to buy stone and training. It was a route to greater wealth. A battle mage's time in an army counted as military service, the first step on the ladder of magistracies that lead to high office. More usually the colleges were careers for those nobles who were from big and powerful families but not of the main line; it was a way to get more power into the family as the colleges themselves had one seat on the assembly of patrons reserved for their highest ranking member. A matter they sorted out amongst themselves according to rules that were not made public. Also, of course, a family member who was a powerful sorcerer was a useful ally, though the colleges had first claim on such an individual's loyalty.
“Thank you for your hospitality.” It seemed the polite thing to say and I hoped I would get some insight into why their attitude had changed from edge of rude, through indifference to this.
“You are welcome, of course. If you and your men are to protect us on the battlefield, it seems only right that we be well acquainted.”
“So that I am motivated to do a good job?”
Larner smiled thinly. “Just so.”
It was a lie. I knew it was a lie and so did he. We were six men, our duties were a courtesy and little more. A battle mage isn't in much immediate danger on the field and they are, after all, battle mages. They can look after themselves. They didn't need us. I had been making a joke. Why would he leap on such an obvious untruth? Did everybody think I was stupid?
“I'm sure you are all quite experienced and able to keep yourselves out of harm's way.”
His smiled stayed frozen. “By way of contrast, I understand this is your first military expedition.”
“First practical experience, yes.”
“Oh? Is there any other kind?” The fat one, Abrat, chipped in.
“Much of war is strategy, tactics and mistakes. Knowledge, in fact. I read a great deal.”
The old one, Hettar, hunched forward, eyes bright. “Who have you read, young man?”
“Everyone,” I told him, truthfully. “I have read everything there is to read on the subject in every language I know.”
Hettar was smiling openly now, “And whose ideas do you most respect?”
“Mine.”
He laughed out loud and his companions joined him more politely.
“Tell us about them, please,” by his tone it was clear that Abrat expected to hear nothing new. He might as well have asked me outright not to speak on the subject.
“Every encounter should have a purpose and it is not my purpose here to share the product of my cogitations on the subject.”
“Ha!” Hettar couldn't restrain himself. “So, this is an encounter! We are at odds! Who's winning?”
I smiled in as light-hearted a way as I could manage. “Maybe it is my purpose that we negotiate a truce, or an alliance.”
Hettar turned to Larner. “Told you he wasn't stupid.”
Larner shrugged. “Let's call it a truce and have some dinner. Duck in an orange sauce,” the food began to appear even as he spoke, “and a few other nibbles. Water?”
I was never going to make a point of it, but confirmed to the slave who served me that water would be welcome.
Round one. A draw I could live with. I'd learned something and so had they. One, they knew full well who I was and had different opinions about me. Two, they wanted to know more, hence the round-about invitation. Three was just a question, why did they want to know more and why now? Sapphire was my father's tool and the day after Sapphire arrived they wanted to talk to me for the first time; was he meddling? And what had they learned; that I wasn't actually mentally impaired? I might be merely arrogant. They hadn't learned much. Not yet.
I ate some duck, drank a little water.
“What do you think of Urindas Het's Military Commentary?” Abrat brought the subject back to my arrogant assertion, clearly probing.
“The general who seeks to win makes many calculations before the battle is fought. The general who is to lose makes but few calculations beforehand. Many calculations lead to victory, few lead to defeat.” I shrugged. “Elementary in many ways, but one wonders how he thinks that anyone can know how well an enemy general has thought things through. True, he speaks of intelligence gathering and disinformation but the fact is unless we have faced an opponent before and have experience of him we cannot possibly know how well or poorly he will do the job. So, what is Urindas actually saying? Try and think of everything? Make as many plans as you can? Nothing a functioning mentality would overlook. Much of his work is on that level.”
Abrat was glowering. “You would say more?”
If I were inclined I would say that all the calculations in a general's mind are worthless unless his command structure, indeed every single man, has a clear idea of what is to be achieved in the conflict. Units can get separated, the situation can change, and communications can break down, and take time even if they don't fail. If a separated unit has a clear understanding of what needs doing it doesn't matter if they haven't an officer left, they can still assess the situation and act to achieve the objective. Urindas speaks always as though the only person who has to know what is planned is the general. All the calculation in the world is useless if it only exists in the general's head. Not that it would be possible to share everything with everybody, but as much as they can understand and are likely to need should be drummed into their heads right down to the last soldier.
“In direct contradiction to what I am thinking, no. But then, I am not in command of an army.”
“Nor are you likely to face us in a battle,” Larner commented dryly.
“But I will be in competition with my peers. Why should I put my ideas in the public domain?”
“At twenty-two you suddenly decided to begin the career you should already be some years into? Do you have in mind a wholly military career, like your uncle?”
“I intend to be what I am to the best of my abilities, no more and no less.”
Hettar nodded approval. “A patron of the city.”
It is what I intended. I intended to succeed. And I would. However, I did not intend to bask in my father's pride. Or in that of anyone else. I did not intend to make friends or be loved. I intended to succeed as much as I needed to in order to be left alone to please myself. It was a short term plan, not a lifelong projection.
13
