Wartorn: Resurrection

assigned and newly promoted. I've only been in Sook since yesterday, so I'm not known locally. That and my previous experience with warehouses made me a natural choice.'

'So you've decided to try your hand at crime,' Vahnka said, thoughtfully.

'More like continue it,' Aquint said. 'My warehouse operation in Callah had several sidelines the authorities knew nothing of. That's how I came to know Tyber.' 'So, what exactly is your proposal?' Aquint gave a small shrug. 'I should think it's obvious. I think it would be best for all concerned if I became your new inside man. Once I've gained a reputation for my honesty, I'll be able to provide you with information on all supplies arriving or departing, so that we wouldn't have to rely on simple pilferage. That is, if your contacts are reliable.'

'Assume we have the contacts,' Vahnka waved. 'But going back to something you said, how exactly do you plan to establish your honesty?'

'By exposing the existing operation and reducing the level of pilferage to a fraction of what it is now.'

'Forgive me for being slow,' Vahnka said with a frown, 'but how can reducing the level of pilferage increase our profits?'

'By using the information I have at my disposal to target those items that are of the greatest value. That way we can skim the cream and not bother with the low-profit dregs. Just out of curiosity, what items are most in demand right now?'

Vahnka laughed. 'That's easy. Weapons and armor. Every paltry state in the south is short of almost everything needed to equip an effective fighting force. They want that gear. They know the Felk are coming. Whether they can or will put up a fight remains to be seen. Right now they're just a separated,

disorganized rabble.'

'Then for my first contribution, there is an order being gathered that the wizards will ship out in two days. Tents and uniforms loaded on top of swords and crossbows.'

'Excellent,' Vahnka said, rubbing his hands together. 'I can see where working with you will simplify matters greatly.'

'Enough to justify my exposing your current inside man to establish my own credibility?' Aquint said.

'He is no friend of mine,' Vahnka said. 'And business is business. Of course, it would be convenient if an accident befell him or he were killed resisting arrest so that he could not betray his outside contacts.'

'I had already taken that into consideration,' Aquint smiled.

'Just one question,' Vahnka said. 'You are an officer in the Felk army, but you're willing to rob your own fellow soldiers of necessary supplies and sell them to the very forces you're likely to be fighting in the near future. Doesn't that bother you?'

'We won't be taking everything. Just a little here and there. And besides,' Aquint stared at Vahnka levelly, 'in your own words, 'they're no friends of mine, and business is business'.'

PRAULTH (2)

BEING MADLY IN love and being in love for the first time weren't, surprisingly, the distractions one might imagine them to be. In truth, she felt more focused than she had before Xink had appeared in her life. He—through his caring, his passion and compassion, through his simple steady presence— settled her mind and spirit... settled those restless and longing parts of herself she'd not even been aware of before Xink's advent.

Yes ... that and all the fabulous, wonderful, glorious sex they were having! That, too, had settled and centered her.

Over the blur of the past several days so much had changed. And yet she was still ardently pursuing the massive assignment Master Honnis had burdened her with. It was an intellectual challenge she welcomed, yes, but still it was onerous.

However, that her elderly mentor had chosen her made her... proud.

Master Honnis was still receiving current intelligence about the war in the north. The Felk were moving once more, having settled the occupation of Sook.

Honnis hadn't shared with Praulth any details about the source or sources of his information, and she didn't have time to speculate. She had spent the past quarter-lune poring over the battle synopses. She had submerged herself in the study.

She was envied for her talents by her fellow pupils. They saw how deftly she absorbed lessons, grasping the material and adding to it her personal insights, rather than merely making restatements. What most of those average students didn't understand was the effort she put forth.

Praulth didn't simply study surfaces. She virtually assumed the personas of those she studied, even the 'personalities' of historical events and locales.

History was not inanimate. Praulth accepted it as a kind of ultra-reality, weighing over the present, influencing, directing, birthing events as surely as women brought forth their generations of children. The past did not die.

If any wished to argue the point, she now had proof beyond her convictions. Dardas. The famed (at least among war scholars) general of the Northland. He lived. Almost impossibly, but it was so.

Praulth of course didn't believe that the two-and-a-half-centuries-dead war commander had

reconstituted himself from moldering meat and bones and was now leading the Felk army in its southward campaign to claim the Isthmus. The dead didn't need to parade about before the living to prove her point that history was immortal.

Dardas was dead. Yes. But his tactics, his unprecedented brilliance on the battlefield, survived him. Weisel. Lord Weisel of the Felk. That was the vessel that was carrying Dardas's ... well, spirit, she supposed, though her rational mind immediately balked at the term.

Praulth had marked Weisel's name. History was occurring now, history that even the ignorant and indifferent would remember. The Felk meant to conquer the Isthmus.

This she knew. They had the means, and they had chosen the proper time for the move. No other state stood strong enough to oppose the Felk. The Northerners had amassed a powerful army and were adding to it with each city they subdued. They were using wizardry, a practice that was changing the face of warfare forever. She had learned of Matokin, a mage. Evidently he had established himself as the ruler of the Felk and had fostered this war.

Master Honnis had wanted to know why the Felk had obliterated U'delph. She had dutifully examined the battle precis. She had reached her conclusions.

U'delph's eradication seemed meant to incite resistance. Not—as at first seemed obvious—to intimidate the Felk's future opponents into surrender.

She had immersed herself in this Lord Weisel, who himself was effectively embodying the long-dead Dardas. Weisel was plainly an exemplary war scholar to know the Northlander general's methods so well. Praulth could only imagine how rewarding it would be to sit and talk with him, for days on end, trading historical insights.

She sighed.

What had occurred at U'delph was certainly deliberate. Atrocities, historically, were often unplanned, happening sometimes despite all efforts to prevent them; but U'delph wasn't like that.

Dardas, in his day, had been known to commit similar acts of annihilation. These always occurred when his enemies were most disorganized, and the effect was almost always to rouse those adversaries into action.

U'delph's annihilation might not necessarily be a demonstration of power. It could be taken for a challenge. A dare. U'delph might have been so ruthlessly destroyed in order to cause outrage, horror... and to impel defiance.

Praulth didn't understand why Weisel might be doing this, but deep within she felt certain of her findings. She was operating on a level of logic so advanced it could contrarily be misunderstood as instinct. Or magic.

She had of course told Master Honnis her conclusions. He agreed. Just as he agreed with her larger assessment that the Felk's ultimate intent was to capture the entire Isthmus. As General Dardas before him, Lord