Battle Magic

“Maybe I would have.” Briar sighed. “You took some really big chances.”

“So did you.”

“We took them with Rosethorn’s life,” Briar told Evvy sternly. “You know I don’t like doing that.”

“She’s tougher than either of us.”

“No, she isn’t.” This wasn’t the first time they’d argued the point. Briar was positive it wouldn’t be the last. “She died. I was there. I don’t want her dying anymore. It’s bad for her. It’s why she talks slow, sometimes. And why she gets sick so easy.”

“You tell me so all the time,” Evvy retorted impatiently.

“And I’ll keep telling you till I’m sure you remember. I’m not going to tell Lark we got careless and that’s why we couldn’t bring Rosethorn home. And speaking of carelessness, what did he say to you that was so private?”

Evvy flinched. Then she said, “I swear, I’ll tell you once we’re away from the palace. It’s important, but I don’t want to talk about it anymore until we’re on the road. Please, Briar?”

She hardly ever begged these days except in play. He could tell she meant this. “Don’t make me regret waiting.”

“I won’t. I swear.”

In silence they returned to their beds. They saw and heard no one else on the way. No one stirred as they let themselves back into their pavilion. Silent at last, they walked into their rooms and lay down for what remained of the night.

Evvy hadn’t even thought she was asleep when she heard Rosethorn say, “Evumeimei Dingzai, we are leaving.”

She sat bolt upright. A maid knelt beside her with a cup of tea in her hands.

“Thank you,” Evvy said. She always thanked the servants. She knew it hurt their pride to wait on someone so much lower in rank than they were. To Rosethorn she said, “It won’t take me long to clean up and dress.”

The dedicate was dressed in her wool traveling habit and wide-brimmed hat. “See that it doesn’t. We still have to load Briar’s shakkans and your cats.” She left the room.

“I know,” Evvy muttered, and drank her tea. The maid combed out her braid and did it up again while Evvy cleaned her teeth. She left Evvy to dress, having learned the girl didn’t like help if she didn’t need it. In happy solitude, Evvy pulled on the light cotton tunic and leggings she had laid out the afternoon before. On went her stockings and her comfortable riding boots. Already she felt wide-awake and eager. It had nothing to do with her tea and everything to do with wearing simple clothes again. Once more she was herself, not some street rat pretending to be nobility in the imperial court!

There was a bowl of rice with bits of this and that on a table by the window. Knowing it would be a long time until she got fed again, Evvy made quick work of the whole thing and belched when she was done. She even ran her fingers around the inside of the bowl and licked them, just to be sure she had everything. With that seen to, she grabbed her pack and slung it over her shoulders. Others found it heavy, but not her. She had carried it for two years, since Briar had begun her studies when she refused all other teachers. The pack held both her proper mage kit and her stone alphabet, with rocks or gemstones for each letter in its own special pocket. When she traveled, she did not like to be more than an arm’s reach away from it. Only knowing that her things were under the strongest protection spells Rosethorn and Briar could weave had made her comfortable enough to leave them while she was on the palace grounds.

As she entered her sitting room, she was greeted with assorted strange cat noises. Briar had freed the cats from her gate spell and lured them once again into their special carry-baskets with his very excellent catnip. Outside she saw Briar carefully stowing the emperor’s rosebush and his shakkans on the backs of his packhorses. He had given one of the miniature trees to the emperor when they arrived as a birthday present, letting their messenger present it in case the emperor hated it. Evvy was fairly certain that Briar regretted the gift now, since he loved his shakkans like she loved her cats. He had not liked the way that Weishu treated his people and would not like one of his trees in Weishu’s hands.

Rosethorn’s twin packhorses waited outside patiently, their burdens already tucked away in cushioned leather satchels. Evvy found her riding horse, which whickered on seeing her. She swung up into the saddle and made herself comfortable.

“Anytime, Briar,” Rosethorn said, mounting her horse.

“Yes, Mother,” he replied. To his obvious surprise, and to Evvy’s, the normally straight-faced servants tittered behind their hands at his joke. They sobered immediately and bowed as their guide and escorts set off on the road to the Gate of Imperial Blessing.

Evvy sighed happily. They were on their way out of the palace.

That illusion lasted as long as their ride to the gate. Two groups waited for them there. One was led by the Mistress of Protocol. Behind her stood two hostlers. Each held the reins of a string of three horses, all carrying a full burden of packs sealed with the six-toed dragon of the Long Dynasty. The headstall of each horse bore the same insignia.

A captain led a full company of the palace guard. These soldiers stood across the front of the gate, blocking it, spears planted firmly on the ground. Evvy’s skin broke out in goose bumps. They knew! They knew about Parahan!

Rosethorn kneed her horse past their guide. “What is this?” she demanded.

“Evvy, have some tea.” Briar nudged his horse closer to hers. He offered her a flask. In a normally loud voice he said, “I bet you didn’t even eat breakfast.” Softly he added, “Drink some tea and stop looking guilty.”

Evvy obeyed. She eased her horse back until she was next to Monster’s carry-basket. She reached her fingers in and stroked the big animal.

The Mistress of Protocol bowed to Rosethorn. “Forgive me, honored Rosethorn, friend of the emperor,” she said, not meeting Rosethorn’s glare. “This … officer insists that you will not be allowed to pass until each member of your company is inspected. Please forgive the, the inconvenience. You have my deepest, deepest apologies.”

Evvy wouldn’t have thought the Mistress of Protocol could ever be so upset. Just after their arrival this intimidating lady had spent several mornings with them, educating them in the ways of the court. At the time Evvy had wondered if she was carved of the same white marble favored for so many of the imperial buildings.

“Inspect, then,” Rosethorn said. “Except for the three of us and our guide, everyone is palace staff. The guide was approved by palace officials.” She said nothing else as every member of their escort had been inspected top to toe by an armed soldier. Even their baggage was poked, as if the soldiers expected them to be hiding someone in it.

As the guards inspected the pack animals under Briar’s eye, Rosethorn nudged her mount over to that of the Mistress. Quietly she asked, “Is it permitted to inquire why one is being subjected to this degrading inspection?”

The Mistress used her fan to hide her face for a moment, then lowered it and leaned very close to Rosethorn to whisper in her ear. Evvy knew that normally torture would be required to get an extra word from the older woman, but she had a bad case of arthritis. A balm from Rosethorn, and its recipe, had made her life much easier. Very much easier, Evvy thought, if she was willing to give Rosethorn any information.

The captain was returning; the two women separated.

“Done,” the captain said. “They may go.”

The men cleared away from the road. The Mistress of Protocol, badly rattled, presented the travelers with the horses and their burdens, gifts personally chosen by the emperor. Rosethorn said a few diplomatic, grateful phrases.

Evvy admired her all over again. Rosethorn said those things, and she acted as any noble lady might, but when she took a drink of tea from her belt flask, Evvy could see that Rosethorn’s hand was shaking. Given Rosethorn’s nature, Evvy was fairly certain she wasn’t scared, but furious.