Battle Magic

19

THE GNAM RUNGA PLAIN

THE ROAD NORTH TO GARMASHING

The next time Briar came around, Rosethorn sat by his cot. She said cheerfully, “I’d box your ears, but apparently you’re being punished enough.”

He glared at her. “You aren’t usually so happy when I foul up this bad.”

“I’m not happy because you got hurt,” she replied tartly. “I realize your motives were good, but you shouldn’t have been out there.”

Briar covered his eyes with his arm. “I figured that out,” he admitted. “I just didn’t want anybody to die who didn’t have to. Well, our people.”

“General Sayrugo found us,” he heard her say. “Her scouts spotted the Yanjingyi warriors and she cut them off. None of them survived.”

“That’s good,” he said dully. People were moving around the tent. He didn’t want to see them talking about what a bleat-brain he’d been.

“Briar, look at me,” Rosethorn told him. “Sayrugo brought us company.”

He heard a scraping noise. A very deep voice said, “This is Briar? From your conversation, I had thought he would be as large as Diban Kangmo.”

“Go away, company,” Briar said. “I don’t want to be gawped at like some daftie in a show.”

“I thought I had come to understand the odd words that you use, but he is incomprehensible,” the deep voice complained.

Someone tugged on his sleeve. A voice he thought he would never hear again said, “Please look at me, Briar. I traveled such a long way to see you, and on a yak named Big Milk, too.”

It couldn’t be Evvy. Evvy was dead. He had her stone alphabet, taken from her by her murderers. She never would have let them have it unless she was dead.

Briar lowered his arm. Evvy stood at the opposite side of his cot from Rosethorn, wearing a tunic that was big enough to be a dress. A gaudy, multicolored silk scarf served her as a head cloth, but under it was Evvy’s same pair of bright eyes and her same flat-tipped nose. A smile quivered on her mouth.

“You’re alive?” he asked her.

She nodded. Tears filled her eyes. “But they killed my cats, Briar.” She knelt beside the cot and put her head on his chest.

Despite the pain he turned and hugged as much of her as he could reach. He murmured silly things, about how they’d pay them back, and she told him about what they’d done to her. It set a dull heat of fury burning in his chest.

“But you can walk?” he whispered.

She nodded and drew back, wiping her eyes on her sleeve. She was about to wipe her nose, too, when Rosethorn reached across Briar to thrust a handkerchief into her hand.

“Luvo fixed me. Well, Diban Kangmo’s daughter fixed me. I hardly limp at all,” Evvy explained. “Luvo’s a mountain. The mountain’s heart.”

“Who’s Luvo?” Briar demanded. “Who’s Diban Kangmo?”

“Diban Kangmo is the goddess of the peak spiders,” the deep, calm voice said. Evvy moved aside a little. Next to her, on a stool that brought it up to the level of the cot, was a rock of clear, purple, and pine-green crystal. It was roughly the height of Briar’s forearm and hand together, and it had the shape of an animal, though it was that shape after the rock had sat in running water for years.

A bear, maybe, Briar thought. A bear worn down by water.

“Briar, this is Luvo,” Evvy told him. “Well, Luvo isn’t his actual name. His real name is a lot longer, and I couldn’t remember it, so I call him Luvo. He’s one of the Sun Queen’s husbands — the one called Kangri Skad Po, the talking mountain.”

The rock nodded to Briar. “I did think you would be larger, from Evumeimei’s descriptions,” it said. Briar did not see a mouth move, but the voice definitely came from the rock. “I am honored to meet the one who has meant so much to her.”

Briar thought about it for a moment, then looked at Rosethorn. “You gave me another dose of painkiller potion, didn’t you? I’ll take willow tea from now on.”

Evvy’s tale was a long one. The healers fed Briar and changed his bandage as she told it. By the time she was done, Parahan, Souda, Lango, and Jimut had come to listen, not having heard every detail. If he hadn’t been clutching her arm most of the time, Briar would have thought it another mad dream, from her capture to her travels deep in the earth until they had found Sayrugo’s army.

Sayrugo had agreed to transport Evvy and Luvo to Melonam, where they were supposed to join the troops led by Captain Lango and his companions. They would have done so, too, but their force had come across Yanjingyi soldiers chasing fifty warriors led by Soudamini. Now the Gyongxin and Realms troops were joined, and Sayrugo was in command.

“If you’re up to a wagon ride, we’re close to Melonam,” Rosethorn told Briar when Evvy had finished. “You’ll be more comfortable in a proper bed than here.”

“I don’t need a wagon,” Briar protested, swinging his legs to the side of the cot. “I can sit on a horse.” He put his feet down and stood, or tried to. His thigh hurt so much that he bit the inside of his cheek until it bled. He sat down.

“Wagon,” Rosethorn said. Jimut nodded and left the tent.

To save his self-respect, Briar looked at Luvo. “If you’re a mountain, how did you get so small?”

“Your manners are as dreadful as ever,” Rosethorn murmured. She was measuring pain-killing medicine into a cup.

“This part of me is the heart of the mountain, and much of its mind,” Luvo explained, turning his head knob so he appeared to look at Briar with the pits that served as his eyes. “I do not think your manners are dreadful. I have only Evumeimei to measure by. Never before did I believe that meat — that humans were worth the trouble to converse with, so I have no standard for their manners.”

“Evvy also thinks we humans aren’t worth the trouble to talk to.” Briar looked at Rosethorn. “Rosethorn, I thought we agreed, no more of that stuff.”

“We have to lift you into the wagon, my dear.”

Oh, this was very bad. The cut must be deeper than he realized, if she was not blistering him for being rude to Luvo, or telling him to be silent and take his medicine. He watched while she dropped another liquid into the cup.

“Don’t worry,” she said, and smiled. “This will make it taste so bad you won’t care about the rest.”

Evvy, sitting quietly by Luvo, actually giggled.

Briar gulped the potion. It was even viler than Rosethorn had hinted it would be. He struggled until he was sure he wouldn’t bring it back up again. As his head spun, he mumbled, “Rosethorn, take my seed bombs.”

“I already have,” she told him as she beckoned to Jimut and another helper. They did their best to lift Briar gently, but he still screamed once before he fainted.

A crimson naga pecked his forehead like a bird, one head after another. Briar tried to tell her that snakes don’t peck, but she ignored him. He woke in a jolting, bumping wagon. His leg ached. He wanted to throw up. He wanted to dig a hole in Gyongxe all the way to the world’s molten heart and bury Weishu and his mages there, where they would never smell another rose.

“Does it hurt so much?” asked a very deep voice by his elbow. “Even when Evumeimei wept in her sleep her face did not make that shape.”

Briar turned his head. The day was too bright; he shaded his eyes so he could see the talking rock. “I wasn’t thinking of pain,” he mumbled. “I was thinking of revenge.”

“I think about revenge, too,” Evvy said. She was on Briar’s other side, leaning against his packs. “I want to dump a few Drimbakangs on Weishu, but Luvo says the mountains won’t let me.”

“I don’t blame you,” Briar said. “If they hurt me like that, I’d want to drop mountains on them, too.”

“Yes, but I’m over the hurt. It could have been worse. They wanted to do worse. See, I’m fine.” Evvy stripped off one of the overlarge slippers someone had given her and the heavy sock she wore underneath it. Gripping her ankle, she raised her foot until Briar could see its sole. “Not too bad, right?”

Briar swallowed. Evvy’s feet were normally brown and callused from years of running on rock and dirt with no shoes at all. Now her sole was puffed and pink, with horizontal scars across it.

“It’s tender yet. I can’t walk too far, but it’s not raw, and the wool doesn’t hurt it,” Evvy said, turning her sole to give it a critical look. “I can even pick up Luvo and carry him and it doesn’t hurt my feet. I just have to remember that my bones are made of granite so his weight doesn’t bother me. How’s your wound?” She let go of her ankle and put her sock back on.

“Fine,” Briar said, ashamed for whimpering. He was still somewhat muzzy, but the pain wasn’t what it had been. He smiled at Evvy. “I think my revenge could be easier to get than yours. He just made me mad. I’ll be happy if we send him running back to Dohan.”

She looked away. “That’s what hurts. They took all I had. I can’t ever get justice for that. My feet would heal no matter what. But everything that was mine is gone, even my alphabet that you gave me. Even …” She folded herself over, burying her face on her knees.

Briar wriggled to sit up, not caring if his leg hurt. This was one thing he could do for her, after he had left her behind for the torturers. “Evvy. Evvy, give me that pack. The one with the embroidered lucky ball on the left strap!”

She groped and handed it to him without raising her face from her knees. Briar fumbled with the straps. “Look here. See what some Yanjingyi kaq had when our fellows raided their camp!”

He pulled out her alphabet. Since she still hadn’t unfolded, he placed the rolled bundle on the tops of her slippered feet.

Evvy parted her knees to peek. Then she whispered, “No …”

“Yes,” Briar said.

She pushed her legs out flat and reached for the heavy roll of cloth. Her fingers trembled as she undid the ties that held it shut. There were more than twenty-six pockets in the cloth, since jasper, obsidian, jade, sapphire, moonstone, opal, and quartz came in many varieties. Evvy stroked each and every sample, tears on her cheeks.

“Evumeimei?” Luvo asked. “Why do streams run down your face?”

“She has her alphabet back,” Briar replied for Evvy, who was too overcome to speak. Then he had to explain what an alphabet was, and what writing was. By the time he was done, Evvy’s crying was over and the army had reached the walled town of Melonam.

They waited in the sun for a short time before Jimut rode back to find them. “They want to leave the wounded here and press on,” he told Briar. “Rosethorn said to give you this.” He handed over a small vial.

Briar knew the medicine as soon as he smelled it. It was one of the quick-heal potions they used only when things were desperate.

If they’re going to leave me here with the rest of them that are hurt, that’s pretty desperate, he thought. And I don’t want to be left!

Before he could lose his nerve — there was a reason these medicines were seldom used — he slit the wax on the cork, yanked it free, and swallowed the contents of the vial. For a moment he felt nothing. Then the flames came roaring up his throat to set his teeth, tongue, eyeballs, and nose on fire. He stuffed one arm into his mouth to keep from screeching and forced himself to stare at Melonam’s walls. That was a mistake. The stone walls were painted with four-headed orange gods with boars’ tusks. In their hands they gripped spears tipped with jawbones. Looking at Briar, they stuck out their tongues and waved their weapons.

Briar covered his eyes with his free arm.

“Briar?” Luvo asked. “Why do those gods of the plain wave to you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Briar mumbled. Then he realized what the rock had said. He uncovered his watering eyes and blinked at Luvo. “You can see them? You can see them moving?”

“Why would I not see the gods?” Luvo inquired. If Evvy heard their conversation, she gave no sign of it. She had moved down to the tail of the wagon, where she sat with her alphabet. She was taking each stone from its pocket and pressing it first to her lips, then to her forehead, before she put it back.

“I thought I was just imagining things,” Briar mumbled. Then he had to explain what “imagining” meant, though he wasn’t certain, in the end, that he got his meaning across.

“Gods are too important to be left to the imagination of meat — humans,” Luvo observed. “These paintings are a door to the local gods’ homes. For some reason they believe that you can see them, so they mock you.”

“I understood the mockery part,” Briar admitted. “What is that thing you keep saying and correcting? Meat what? Is it an insult? I suppose it is, or you wouldn’t keep changing to ‘humans.’”

“Formerly I thought of animals, birds, insects, and humans as ‘meat creatures,’” Luvo explained patiently. “It distresses Evumeimei. She asked me to use the word humans for those of you who waste two of your limbs and put all of your weight on the other two.”

Despite the pain in his throat, Briar sighed. “We don’t waste what we do with our hands. You think your orange gods over there would be so bright if they didn’t get their colors touched up now and then by painters? Those are humans who spread color at the end of little stick tools they hold in their hands,” he said hurriedly, before Luvo could ask what a painter was. “We couldn’t fight the emperor’s soldiers if we didn’t have hands and weapons we made with them.”

“Neither could he fight you,” Luvo said.

Briar made a face. “True enough. But Rosethorn and I make medicines with our hands that help the wounded to heal. We also help plants to grow with them.” The medicine’s fire died away and, with it, the pain in his leg.

Jimut, who had left Briar to drink his medicine, now returned at the trot, leading Briar’s riding horse. The gelding was saddled and ready.

“Forgive me,” he said, “but General Sayrugo says those who cannot ride will be left here. We are two days from the capital. It is under siege by the imperial army. And Princess Soudamini says that Evvy must stay here, too. A battleground is no place for a child. She said that, not me,” he said hurriedly after a look at Evvy.

Evvy jumped down from the wagon. “Oh, no,” she snapped. “I’m not getting left behind. Not after what they did to me. Jimut, where is she?”

Jimut whistled to a passing soldier. “Take Evvy to Her Highness, will you?” he asked the man.

“Evumeimei?” Luvo called. “Shall I go with you?”

Evvy shook her head and let the rider swing her up behind him. “I try to behave myself in front of you, Luvo,” she explained. “I don’t want you confusing me just now.”

As her soldier carried her to the princess, Briar stood in the wagon’s bed. “I’ll ride or I’ll bust,” he told his companions. They would not leave him behind, either. Jimut nudged the horse closer, until Briar could grab the saddle horn and swing his weak leg over the animal’s back. After that it was easy enough to place his good foot in the stirrup.

Evvy soon returned on a horse of her own. Her smile was grim, but pleased.

“Were you rude?” Briar asked sternly.

“Not exactly,” she replied. “I said I’ve been fighting in this war ever since Snow Serpent Pass, and they can’t call me a child when I can make horses and men fall. And Rosethorn said that if we lost, Melonam would be the emperor’s next conquest. So here I am. Children fight all over the world, and Her Highness wanted to keep me safe!”

“She knows His Highness and Rosethorn and Briar all care about you,” Jimut said with reproach.

Evvy rolled her eyes. “I know that. But nobody’s let me be a child since my mother sold me. Can we just drop it?”

Briar hid a grin behind his hand. The only time anyone got to protect Evvy was when Evvy wanted protection; he knew it very well. Once she got her hackles up, it was best to stay out of her way.

One of Jimut’s friends arrived with a packhorse whose saddle had been arranged to carry Luvo as well as belongings. Evvy tucked Luvo into the open seat on the saddle, then helped Jimut arrange packs around him. As soon as their wagon was emptied of everything but bedding, the driver headed toward the rear of the supply train. Jimut closed in on Briar’s left, Evvy on his right. Together, with Luvo on Evvy’s free side, they trotted up the road to find Rosethorn.

Briar glanced back at Melonam. The four-headed god to the north side of the gate had turned around to show Briar a naked green bum with four cheeks. The god was bending over to ensure that Briar got the message.

“Do you see that?” Briar demanded of Jimut, pointing to the god.

Jimut looked. “The walls? Those are paintings of the god Shidong, king of the winds and doors and patron of the town. Surely you have seen him before.”

Briar said nothing. He doubted that Luvo would think the god’s behind was unusual in any way. He wondered if Rosethorn could see it. He wasn’t about to ask her, that was certain. He would not risk being tied once more to a sickbed while his friends risked their lives against Yanjing.

“Good, you’re still with us,” Rosethorn said when they reached her. “I was worried that medicine wouldn’t work and we’d have to leave you.”

“As if you could,” Briar retorted.

Parahan, just ahead of them, looked around. “You have something that heals faster than ordinary medicines?” he demanded, scowling. “Why has it not been used on the wounded we left back there? We’ll turn around right now!”

Souda put her hand on her brother’s arm. “Perhaps Rosethorn has a reason,” she said quietly.

Rosethorn met Parahan’s glare. “Do you truly think I would not have used it if I’d had enough of it? The ingredients are rare. I don’t have enough to heal a hundred wounded. I must use it sparingly. If Briar stays with us, he can keep plenty of mages and warriors alive with his own medicines and knowledge. Ask your healers if they can do better!”

Souda kicked her brother. “Go scouting if you have forgotten these realities, my dear,” she counseled. “Have a gallop. Ride with the general for a while. Soon enough you’ll have plenty of things to occupy you.”

Parahan growled under his breath and rode off. Souda sighed. “He always gets silly before a major battle, Rosethorn.”

Briar looked to the west, where hills rose a mile or so off. Those were the leading edges of the Drimbakang Zugu, whose white-capped peaks gleamed in the distance. To the right the grassland was striped with charcoal streaks where it had been burned. Buzzards rose from the carcasses of horses and humans alike. Among the bodies and the burns he saw blast craters, the marks of the Yanjing empire’s zayao.

The smell was unspeakable. From the condition of the dead, Briar guessed they had lain in the open for at least five days. The cool nights would slow the decay, but the sun and the scavenger animals would speed it up again. He noticed that Rosethorn was holding a handkerchief to her nose.

They soon left the scene of the fighting that had taken place here and rode steadily all day, stopping only to rest the horses and to grab cold meals. The road moved deeper into the hill country as they drew closer to the Drimbakang Zugu and Garmashing. Twice they passed massive temple fortresses. Their gates were closed and barred. The general sent messengers to speak with the temples’ commanders, but the army itself continued north.

They halted ten miles from Garmashing. General Sayrugo called the commanders and the chief healers, including Rosethorn, to a meeting in her tent, along with the leaders from the eastern and western tribes and temples. The rest of their army camped on a hillside that overlooked the road. Sentries were posted everywhere around the camp, together with mages who could sense the presence of spells.

Evvy stuck by Briar as he brewed their supper tea. Jimut, who was keeping an eye on them, brought a pot of noodle-and-dumpling soup for all of them to share. He joined them, but he was the only one. Evvy heard him tell Briar that he didn’t mind not having more company. Everyone could see that Evvy needed quiet.

She did, too. She had gotten used to the emptiness of the tunnels under Gyongxe where she and Luvo and Big Milk had traveled. She wished she could talk Briar and Rosethorn into going back into the tunnels with her, where they would be safe. They would never listen; she knew that.

Before she conferred with the general, Souda had told them to go to bed early, saying, “We’ll be fighting the emperor’s main army in a day or two. You need rest.”

The thought gave Evvy the crawls. How could she rest? She and Rosethorn and Briar and Parahan were the only ones who really knew what they faced. They would be in battle against the imperial army, its ranks full of men like Musheng and Dawei. There would be mages who wielded battle-magic spells similar to the ones placed on General Hengkai’s beads. Cruel spells. None of the people who had come north with them had seen the emperor show off hundreds of thousands of archers and soldiers on his birthday, so many that acres of land were covered with them. There would be catapults to fling zayao bombs into the middle of General Sayrugo’s army. Everyone she knew would die or be taken off and tortured. She would have to stay with them, and risk the emperor’s wrath all over again.

How did Parahan stand it? She had seen him joking with some of his soldiers earlier. He knew what they faced even better than Evvy, and yet he could grin and tease and even steal a kiss from Rosethorn in the shadow of a tent when they thought no one was looking.

Evvy got to her feet. She wasn’t strong like Parahan. “I’m tired,” she said abruptly. “Luvo, are you coming?”

“I wish to remain here for a time more,” Luvo replied. “You do not need to be concerned for my well-being, Evumeimei.”

She nodded and retired to the tent she now shared with Rosethorn. Whoever had put up the tent had also laid out her bedroll, which was a kind thing to do. She lay down on it without removing her clothes. It was hard to undress, even to change to clean clothes or a nightdress now. She was terrified someone might come in and see her naked. Luvo didn’t count, but a strange man … She didn’t think she could endure being seen unclothed by strangers again.

She lay in the dark, listening to camp noises. Playing with the stones of her alphabet helped a little. Their textures against her fingers calmed her. Still, they weren’t calming enough to make her sleep, and they weren’t the textures of the alphabet she had been making on her own. They weren’t the textures of her quartz and flint disks, with the different kinds of magic she had been learning to place on them. They weren’t the textures of the flint arrow and dagger blades she had made herself, after months of study in the art of knapping.

The more she thought about what she had lost, the angrier — and the more awake — she became. She got out of bed.

“Evumeimei?” Luvo stood at the opening of the tent, like a sentry, as he had every night since they had begun living among humans.

“I’m just going out to think. I won’t leave the camp,” she whispered. She opened the ties and slipped out the back of the tent, grateful that Rosethorn had yet to come in. Quietly she made her way through the rows of tents. Most of the fires were now banked for the night. Just enough torches burned to light the main paths. Heading uphill, Evvy kept to the shadows. She did make certain that the sentries noticed her, though they didn’t stop her. There was no point in getting shot by a nervous warrior because she wanted a quiet walk. In any case, she stayed inside their lines.

She made her way to the hilltop where a broad slab of slate thrust out over the northern slope like a shelf. Sentries were posted on the ground below, their eyes to the north, and on the western edge of the ridge, but they were nice enough to let Evvy have the stone to herself. She sat with her knees up, arms wrapped around them, staring at the road they would take in the morning.

A sliver of moon shone down on everything, turning it the color of ghosts. She wondered how many human ghosts might be walking on that landscape soon. Would she be one of them?

She would not let the enemy take her again. She promised herself that. Rather than fall into the torturers’ hands a second time, she would turn herself into stone all the way. There would be no little piece of Evvy left behind to wake up to agony. She would join the rocks of Gyongxe forever.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she did not hear anything until Briar lay on the stone beside her. He said nothing, only crossed his arms under his head and regarded the sky. Evvy found she couldn’t think of dying in his presence. Instead she let herself trickle through the slate under them and on down through the hillside rocks, naming them to herself. Before long Rosethorn and Parahan silently joined them. Both chose to sit cross-legged on the slate, their eyes on the silvery northern view.

Souda was the last to reach them. She carried a silk quilt in her arms and shared it with Evvy, who was shivering. Eventually Briar squirmed under a corner of it, too. Except for that, none of them moved until Parahan began to snore. That startled laughs out of the women, Briar, and Evvy. Without discussion they woke him and returned to their tents for what remained of the night.