Battle Magic

In the morning, Briar and Rosethorn found a workroom in the part of the Living Circle temple given over to the use of the Earth temple. There, with pots and earth from the temple supplies, they began to replenish their thorny seed balls. Evvy helped, carrying in jars of water and filling the pots with enough earth to take the seed.

“I do not understand,” Luvo said as he watched them work. “Surely this emperor will go home now that he has lost so many of his people to the fighters of Gyongxe.”

“That is exactly why he won’t stop until we find a way to beat him like a drum,” Briar said bitterly. “He could lose three times as many people as he did and still have plenty more to throw against us. He wants this place. He wants the temples and the God-King’s palace and all their treasures. He wants a hold on all the religions that have temples here. And he won’t take no for an answer. He’s the kind of fellow who will burn a whole garden because one plant is sick.”

“I do not understand,” Luvo replied again.

Briar had just finished the tale of Rosethorn’s attempt to save the rose garden when Jimut arrived carrying two small wooden kegs.

“What are these for?” Rosethorn asked when he set them on the table.

“Well, a slinger who’s a long way off might not get one of your cloth seed balls very close to the enemy,” he said cheerfully. “That’s why I had to go back to my old way of fighting when we twisted the emperor’s tail.”

“It doesn’t seem to have hurt you,” Rosethorn replied with a smile.

“Yes, but I felt bad,” he told her. “Most of my friends never got to see what happens when one of your little balls explodes. And I was, well, I was exploring hereabouts, feeling like I have nothing to do. I just happened to find the wine cellars….”

Briar began to laugh.

Jimut said loftily, “And they have all these empty kegs waiting for transport to the Yanjingyi wine makers, except there’s a war. So I got an idea. What if you put one or two cloth balls in an empty keg and load that into a catapult? A small catapult, maybe, like the ones they have on the rooftops here? The keg will pop when it hits the ground, and your seeds will scatter and grow.”

Rosethorn clapped his shoulder. “That’s a very good idea. Now, go find the First Dedicate of the Water temple and ask her to donate her kegs. I’m certain she will be pleased to do so.”

Jimut stared at her. “I thought you might handle that part.”

Rosethorn sighed in mock regret. “I would, but I am growing thistles so they will give us more seed. Tell her I’m sorry I couldn’t come myself.”

Jimut looked at Briar, who shrugged. “I’m doing the same thing,” Briar explained.

“I’ll come,” Evvy volunteered, “if you think it would help.”

Jimut sighed. “No offense, Evumeimei, but you are not always careful about what you say. I will be in enough trouble when she hears I was prowling in her wine cellar.” He wandered off.

Rosethorn watched him go. “I hope Parahan and Souda appreciate that fellow,” she said, thinking aloud. “He’s clever, he thinks fast, and he doesn’t frighten easily. And he’s loyal. They should promote him.” She turned it over in her mind as she settled seed after seed in the earth and called to the growth in them. Up sprouted the plants, to bloom and go to seed. It was work she would set a novice to at home, or several novices. It was pleasant to greet the plants — their thorns were as long as her forearm once they were more than two feet tall, though they were sweet-natured to the gardener who appreciated them — but she wanted to do more.

She could do more. For all the harm she had done, she was not a battle mage; she was a medicine mage, a planting mage. Rose Moon was nearly over; winter came early here. How much of the fields had the imperial armies destroyed already? “Evvy, you are now a thorn seed harvester,” she announced, moving her sprouting plants to Briar’s side of the room.

“I am?” the girl asked, though not irritably. She had been dozing on a heap of sacks.

“Evumeimei’s power is not with green things,” Luvo said from his spot of observation near Briar.

Briar started to explain how he could keep the plants growing as Evvy watched and harvested. Rosethorn hurried down the hall, searching for Dokyi.

“I did understand correctly?” she asked the First Dedicate when she found him. “Barley is the most popular grain crop in Gyongxe?”

“It is the hardiest of the grains,” he said. “Others do not fare as well. Why do you ask?”

“I know a way to replace some of the grain that’s been lost to Weishu’s army.”

Dokyi’s face lit. “That would be an incredible blessing to our people if you can manage it. Do you need anything from me?”

She nodded and began to explain. The First Dedicate listened to her idea, thought it over, and led her to a storeroom. He helped her carry a number of flat, shallow planting boxes back to the workroom, and appointed two strong young novices to haul in more sacks of earth.

She set out a row of the planting boxes and dug her hands into a bag of soil, feeling better than she had in days. This was what she needed to do, not killing. Not seeing visions. Moreover, the strength she still held after her stewardship of the Four Treasures surged forward as she worked, pouring into the dark earth in the boxes and the barley seed that she scattered over it. Of course the Treasures would lend themselves to crops.

She had to grip that power to keep her new plants a simple two feet in height. As it was, a quarter of them was heavy with seed. Swiftly she harvested and planted it all for a new crop. She remembered to teach them only to grow under an open sky when their farmers gave them a particular word. It would do no one any good if the new crop grew only to be trampled by armies again.

She also arranged her magic so the plants would grow to maturity in the field in four weeks. With luck, even if the war ran another couple of months, the people of Gyongxe would still be able to gather at least one crop, perhaps two, from these plants.

Dokyi brought their midday meal. He remained to help Briar, Evvy, and Rosethorn as they packed the seed that was ready to plant and sprouted more. Luvo had gotten bored and wandered off. Jimut and Riverdancer, who came by in the midafternoon, told them he was replacing entire walls by humming at the debris in the street until it rose and packed itself in place where the walls had been.

“He offered to teach some dedicates to do it, but they could not sing so low,” Jimut said with a grin.

“I don’t think this city is going to recover from Luvo’s visit any time soon,” Rosethorn observed. She looked at her hands and grimaced. Barley plants and constant hand digging had not been kind to her skin.

“I think it confuses him,” Evvy says. “Not all the temples, but why so many people would want to live in such a small place.”

Since the God-King had invited them to supper that night, they bathed in the temple’s newly repaired bathing room and dressed in clean garments for the evening.

Luvo joined them at the God-King’s table, as did Parahan, Souda, Sayrugo, and the First Dedicates of the Fire, Air, Water, and Earth temples of the First Circle. Rosethorn had feared that with so many adults present, Evvy might go quiet or find an excuse to leave. She had not reckoned on the girl’s friendship with the God-King. He was even able to startle a laugh out of Evvy. The other First Dedicates, who might have been stiff in such an unconventional group, relaxed considerably when Dokyi told them about the work they had been able to do toward proper barley harvests, war or no. Rosethorn was delighted to see Briar grin at them when he saw how happy they were. He, too, needed something better than combat to take away from his time here.

They had finished their meal and were simply lazing when a Gyongxin man in gold-trimmed armor and one of Sayrugo’s soldiers came to see them. Both communicated in whispers, the gold-trimmed man with the God- King. They left as soon as they had delivered their messages. The God-King and Sayrugo frowned as the others continued to talk.

Finally the God-King looked at his companions and smiled, though it was a smaller smile than usual. “There’s no reason not to tell you. General Norbu at the Lake of Birds reports that his scouts to the northwest are late to return, that’s all.”

Sayrugo said, “As are mine to the east.”