light was greenish. Knucklebones stared. What was it? No force or light she'd ever seen, though it resembled her own glowlight cantra, but a thousand times brighter.
The fire pit split open as if from an earthquake. The light was very bright, but by squinting Knucklebones just made him out. Straddling the hole, a hole big enough to swallow a man, or spit one out, was Sunbright, hale and hearty.
His bright blond hair was combed neatly into a horsetail with the temples shaved. His red shirt was restored, thick and soft, laced over with his calfskin vest brushed smooth. His boots were solid, the iron rings that the savages had fought over restored and stitched tight to jingle musically. His belt buckle shone, and Dorlas's hammer lay tucked in its holster. Even Harvester was returned to its master's back. Half prone, Knucklebones could see Wulgreth had lost it. As he'd lost his confident swagger and prideful stance. He was clearly flummoxed by this miraculous return of a vanquished enemy.
Knucklebones didn't understand either. A quick glance showed, by the light he shed, that Sunbright's body no longer lay in the hut. So this was no angel, no spirit, but the real man truly restored. Then she recognized his voice.
'Wulgreth!' called Sunbright. 'Prepare!'
Chapter 17
'There! How do we look?'
Enthusiastic applause.
Karsus had arrived this morning in his latest finery. Instead of his usual ratty robe, he wore a blue-green tunic with a bold K emblazoned on the breast. The military cut sported a high, embroidered collar and stiff jutting wings at the shoulders. A jewelled baldric hung from one shoulder and banded his waist, and a silver sword with a tiger head pommel rattled at his side. On his head was a helmet of boiled leather, so laden with silver and gold wire it kept tipping over the mage's wild golden eyes. Add to that his frazzled hair sticking out from under it, and that his neck and bare feet were still filthy, and the effect was ludicrous, as if the village idiot had stumbled into a chest of old uniforms.
Candlemas applauded with the other toadies, and hated himself for it. By approving and helping in this war nonsense, he was furthering the empire's insane plans.
Though 'plans' was too adult a word to give to these proceedings. The new craze for warfare was more like the antics of boys dashing though gardens with sticks for swords.
Yet everyone partook, for the empire had been hideously bored and seized on this new game with both hands. Tailors and seamstresses and milliners throughout the city hired extra help and slaved night and day to fashion military style clothes for the empire's elite, and male and female archwizards down to the lowest apprentices competed to wear the wildest designs possible, until the streets and glittering balls resembled peacock farms.
For all their hasty preparations, no one was sure if war had officially been declared, for no shots had yet been fired. But the 'enemy,' Ioulaum, Karsus's sister city, had drifted up from the west until its buildings could be plainly seen. Candlemas was surprised at how small it was. He'd seen it once, over three hundred years ago, and it had seemed huge. It was, in fact, scarcely a tenth the size of the city of Karsus. It was the first floating enclave, created and ruled by Ioulaum, one of the oldest known wizards. At this range, his high-turreted castle resembled a king's crown. It looked strange sitting atop an inverted mountain, nothing more than a cone of rock hanging in the sky, oddly contrasting with the real, upright mountains in the far distance.
But Ioulaum was girded for war, people said, and everyone must prepare. Even dowdy Candlemas had been coerced into donning a yellow robe with bright red stripes, and a wide, studded belt hung with a long dagger he'd found hanging on a wall in his chambers. A little round hat wobbled on his bald head, and stiff boots cramped his toes. It made him miserable, for he hated finery and fluff.
Miserable too because he couldn't show his new garb to Aquesita. She still refused to see him, and he pined until he could think of nothing else. His best hope was his latest letter, a long, slobbering missive of apology, though he was still unclear of his lover's crime. It hadn't been returned, so presumably she'd read it. He hoped so.
'Candlemas! Are you daydreaming?'
'What?'
He shook his head. People stared at him, some glaring because he dared to nod off before Karsus. The archwizard didn't seem to notice. He was familiar with bubbleheads. 'Yes?' Candlemas said, 'A hundred pardons, O Great Karsus.'
'Uh, uh!' Karsus tilted his head back to see under the brow of his bulky helmet as he spoke. 'General Karsus! The city council agreed unanimously to declare me commander in chief for the duration of this great struggle for survival in which we are engaged.'
More applause.
Candlemas stifled a groan. Of course the stupid turds on the council would vote for that. They'd grant anything Karsus wished. As for a 'great struggle,' Candlemas was appalled at how seriously people took it all. They'd even dredged up old grievances with the people of Ioulaum, feuds dead for centuries, as an excuse for aggression. The city of Ioulaum favored eagles as their mascots, it was said, and eagles preyed on white storks, the beloved symbol of their 'homeland,' Karsus. An old border dispute had been dusted off. Foolishness about an abandoned valley that belonged to Karsus's grandparents but that Ioulaum had 'usurped' to mine for silver. Another cause for war between cities floating in the sky!
Even the ground below was disputed. The peasants there farmed for Karsus, mostly, but Ioulaum had sent raiders into their territory. Every ill the city suffered, from poor tasting water to peeling paint was blamed on Ioulaum. All foolishness, of course. What did Aquesita make of it?
But Candlemas had drifted off again while Karsus jabbered. '… Major Candlemas. No, that lacks something. Ah, Colonel Candlemas! Better sounding, is it not? Yes, I've asked that you oversee the first repulse of the villains who dare defile our beloved land.'
Candlemas (Colonel?) blinked and sputtered, 'M-me? I–I'm to lead a m-military expedition? I don't know anything about tactics! I've never…'
Karsus stared at an iron sconce above the mage's head. 'You were a steward, weren't you?' the archwizard asked. 'That means you know how to ride a horse and oversee peasants, or whatever stewards do. It won't be a bother. Just go with the lads and stand behind them in case of archers. There's a military tactic! See them off, then return in the boat.'
There was a brief space of silence, finally broken by a cheerful Karsus, who said, 'Off you go! When you return, I'll give you a medal!'
Staggered, Candlemas stared. But the ring of frowning faces told him to keep mum and do as he was bid. If he balked, plenty of other toadies would take his place, and Candlemas might find himself out on the street. What would he do then?
Not that he knew what to do now…
'Very well, Great, uh, General Karsus. I hear and obey.'
Feeling a total fool, he threw a sloppy salute. Karsus clasped his hands and giggled with delight as Candlemas marched off down the corridor in his tight boots, trying not to sigh. Leading a raid? Well, how bad could it be?
It took a while for the carriage driver to find the right dock in the right part of the city, for the war had everything discombobulated. Wagons jammed intersections and soldiers tramped hither and yon, drilling. Furthermore, to add to the immediacy, city guards with red armbands stopped and searched wagons and carriages for 'contraband' or 'needed war materiel.' This was, of course, an excuse to do a bit of pilfering in the emperor's name. If indeed the war were intended to distract the populace from rioting, it was working, for he saw no signs of dissent. Of course, anyone protesting the war was hurled into prison as a spy and traitor.
Eventually Candlemas spotted troop boats arrayed at a dock. Each was a long, narrow wooden hull like an oceangoing dromond, or open peapod. Instead of sails or oars it wore a long metal foil stretched overhead from horizontal masts, designed to catch the sun's rays. Candlemas didn't know how it worked, except it was powered
