Wartorn: Resurrection

through one eye.

For soldiers—for Felk soldiers, who had supposedly conquered the north half of this Isthmus—they did not respond professionally. The four in uniforms and the two robed figures all leaped to their feet, looking desperately around, seeing nothing but the surrounding woods. No one even seemed to know from which direction the arrow had come.

Radstac called again for their surrender. This gave one of the soldiers the idea of grabbing up his sword and chopping it through the air.

'Come and fight us, you dogs!'

It was the sort of heroic drivel Radstac had heard on many battlefields in her time. It was most often cried out by simpletons who had never before lifted a blade against an enemy, but who had heard exotic tales of war all their lives.

And like many of those, these were the last words ever said by the Felk soldier. Frog was as well camouflaged among the trees as the rest of the band, but he had taken up a blind that gave him clear sight lines into the camp. He put a shaft into the soldier's face. Radstac knew how taut the lad could draw that bow, and the force of the blow lifted the soldier off his feet. Blood sprayed. The sword thumped the ground.

Most persuasively of all, it took a long, grueling moment for the man to die, and he was not quiet about it. His fellow Felk agreed to surrender the next time Radstac called for it.

The bandits took the camp.

Deo asked questions, first of the soldiers. They replied readily. Yes, they were scouting ahead of the main body of the army. Yes, Trael was the next target of the Felk, so far as they knew. The city-state possessed no adequate defenses that they had observed. It would fall.

The bandits helped themselves to what rations they found. They divvied up the Felk weapons, eyeing the blades critically, debating the virtues of balance and heft. Deo confiscated the crossbow for himself

When Deo motioned for the two wizards to be brought forward, the bandits quieted. They were uneasy about the two robed specters in their midst, despite the fact that they wore perfectly ordinary faces .and had the same number of limbs as everyone else present. Even the Felk soldiers, remarkably enough, appeared to share in the uneasiness.

Radstac remained at Deo's side. The wizards' hands were bound, but she didn't know how well this would hinder their powers—if at all. Though magic was practiced and relatively accepted on the Southern Continent, she had never actually encountered a practitioner. They tended to live remote, cloistered lives.

One of the robed figures was male, the other female. Both looked very frightened. Deo studied the pair, intrigued. Not wary and apprehensive like the bandits.

After a time he said, 'You serve the Felk. Why?'

The female blinked and said, 'We are Felk.'

'You don't consider yourselves wizards above all? Interesting. I would've thought that would come first.'

The male wizard chewed at his lower lip. 'We are, of course ... loyal... to our arts as well.'

Deo nodded. 'And that doesn't conflict with your loyalty to your state? Well, I suppose it needn't necessarily. Forgive me. I've never met a magician, outside of carnival hucksters. You are, frankly, fascinating.'

He was using his charm, Radstac noted. How effortlessly the Petgrad noble could put another at ease, even under conditions like this. It was impressive.

'I imagine you're valuable assets to your military,' he went on. 'From the stories we've heard about what the Felk have done in the north'—he grunted a wry laugh— 'I wish we had a company of wizards for ourselves.'

The female wizard glanced shyly around. 'You're not... bandits?' she asked softly.

Deo laughed aloud now, the sound rich and infectious.

'Some of us are,' he said. 'But others among us have other purposes. Toward those purposes I must now ask you questions.'

Radstac's palm rested on her sword's scratched pommel. Her colorless eyes watched the pair carefully. It was unnerving, though, not knowing what telltales to look for, not knowing what magic the two mages might furtively enact.

At the first sign of anything untoward, she would naturally lop off their heads.

'Tell me,' Deo said gently, 'what sort of magic is it that you work?'

He simply waited for their answers. And after a moment's reluctance they divulged. Deo nodded, listening. A polite, attentive audience.

'Now, what exactly is Far Speak and Far Movement magic?' the nephew of the premier of Petgrad asked.

RAVEN (4)

LOYALTY, SHE HAD found, was a complicated thing.

She had sworn allegiance routinely to Matokin while at the Academy. It sometimes seemed like a daily exercise, like the spells she and her fellow students had practiced so repetitiously. But she had also privately dedicated herself to the Felk emperor, not least because he was, she continued to believe, her father.

Raven had also sworn to carry out her duties when she personally received this assignment from Lord Matokin himself. That meeting had been the single greatest thrill of her young life. She had been charged with, among other responsibilities, spying on the Felk war commander.

But, now that she was here at General Weisel's side, didn't she also owe him some measure of loyalty? He had, after all, taken her into his confidence and shown as much faith in her talents as Matokin had demonstrated. Maybe more.

But Weisel had talked treason, hadn't he? She had to report to Matokin. When she at last resolved to do so, she was ashamed that she had hesitated so long.

Weisel had given her new orders. She would carry those orders out. But first, she would find Berkant, the Far Speak mage.

She was getting used to traveling with the army, though the sight of so many troops and so much

mobile equipment was still very impressive. She found her way through the camp to the mage's tent. Scuttlebutt had it that the army would mobilize tomorrow, once the portals had been arranged. The soldiers would be Far Moved the remaining distance to Trael, and they would invade and capture the city.

Raven knew the real plan, though. Weisel had entrusted her with the knowledge. He had even recruited her to play a key role in the incredible scheme. She couldn't help but glow a little from that.

Nevertheless, she had to speak to Lord Matokin.

'Mage Berkant,' she said, presenting herself, 'I am Raven, newly arrived from the Academy, and I—'

'I know who you are,' the wizard said. 'Come inside.'

His tent was small but private.

'I must communicate with Lord Matokin.' She had brought along the scroll that contained her orders, just for good measure.

'Very well. It will take a moment to arrange.'

Berkant seated himself on a folding chair, taking up a piece of fabric and squeezing it tightly in his hand. Raven understood. Though she certainly couldn't perform anything as complex as a Far Speak spell, she at least grasped the principles. That cloth no doubt came from an item of clothing that belonged to the wizard who Berkant was communicating with.

Raven wondered when she would be able to resume her studies of magic. She had so much left to learn. But... wasn't this much more exciting than being at the Academy? Here she was participating actively, not just passively absorbing. She was caught up in a fascinating intrigue that involved the two most powerful men in the whole empire, Lord Matokin and General Weisel. Her life certainly wasn't boring these days.

Berkant's face gradually lost all expression. His eyes stared dully forward. When he spoke, it was as if with