Fall of Angels

XIII

“WHAT WILL YOU do with the cowardly wizard, dear?” asks the heavyset and gray-haired woman who sits on the padded bench in the alcove.

The black-bearded young man pulls down his purple vest and walks toward the empty carved chair with the purple cushion, then turns back to face her. “Much as I distrust Hissl, Mother dear, I wouldn’t call him cowardly. According to the handful of troopers who returned, he was attacked, and he used his firebolts. After Father and nearly twoscoretroopers were killed, he retreated. If he hadn’t brought them back, we still wouldn’t know what happened for sure. Then I would have had to rely on Terek’s screeing, and I don’t like that, either. He’s even more devious than Hissl.”

“All wizards are devious. That was what your father said, Sillek,” the lady Ellindyja responds.

“He was right, but they have their uses.”

“What will you do with Hissl?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? After he led your father to his death? Nothing?” Ellindyja’s voice rises slightly, its edge even more pronounced.

“What good will killing him do? We’ve just lost three squads of troopers, and it looks like we now have an enemy behind us, right on top of the Roof of the World, possibly able to close off the trade road to Gallos. Lord Ildyrom and his bitch consort are building a border fort less than a half day’s march from Clynya, and the Suthyan traders are talking about imposing more trade duties. Sooner or later, we’ll have to fight to take Rulyarth from them or always be at their mercy.” Sillek pauses. “With all that, you want me to kill a wizard and get their white guild upset at me? Create another enemy when we already have too many?”

“You are the Lord holder of Lornth now, Sillek. You must do what you think best … just as your father did.”

“What good would executing Hissl accomplish?”

His mother shrugs her too expansive shoulders. “The way you explain it, none. I only know that difficulties always occur when white wizards are involved.”

“I will keep that in mind.” Sillek turns and walks to the iron-banded oak door, which he opens. “Take the wizards and the others to the small hall.”

“Yes, ser.”

Sillek holds the door to his mother’s chamber and waits as she rises. They walk down the narrow hall to the small receiving chamber where he steps up and stands before the carved chair that rests on a block of solid stone roughly two spans thick. The lady Ellindyja seats herself on a paddedstool behind his chair and to Sillek’s right.

Seven men file into the room. The five troopers glance nervously from one to the other and then toward the two wizards in white. None look at Lord Sillek, nor at his mother, the lady Ellindyja. Hissl’s eyes meet Sillek’s, while Terek bows slightly to the lady before turning his eyes to Sillek.

“Who has been in the forces of Lornth the longest?” Sillek’s eyes traverse the troopers.

“Guessin’ I have, ser. I’m Jegel.” Jegel has salt-and-pepper hair and a short scraggly beard of similar colors. His scabbard is empty, as are the scabbards of all five troopers. The left sleeve of his shirt has been cut away and his upper arm is bound in clean rags.

“Of the three score who rode out with Lord Nessil, you are all who survived?”

“Beggin’ your pardon, ser, but we aren’t. Maybe a dozen rode down the trade road to Gallos. Welbet led’em. He said that you’d never let anyone live who came back with your father left dead.”

“That’s the way it should be …”

Sillek ignores the whispered comment from his mother, but the troopers shift their weight.

“Why did you come back?” he finally asks.

“My consort just had our son, and I was hopin’ …” Jegel shrugs.

“Did you ride away from my father in battle?”

“No, ser.” Jegel’s brown eyes meet those of Sillek. “I charged with him.” His eyes drop to his injured arm. “Got burned with one of those thunder-throwers, but I followed him until there weren’t no one to follow. Then I turned Dusty back.”

“Dusty?”

“My mount. I ran into the wizard at the bottom of the big ridge-him and most of the rest. Most went with Welbet. The rest of us came back with the wizard.”

“What did you think of the strangers?”

Jegel shivers. “Didn’t like their thunder-throwers. One woman-she was the one with the blades-she threw a blade,and it went right through Lord Nessil’s armor, like a hot knife through soft cheese. Then she took his horse, and slaughtered three, four of the troopers with both the blade and the thunder-thrower, almost as quick as she looked at’em.”

“Were they all women?”

“Mostly, ser. Except the one I got. He had a thunder-thrower, but it did him no good against my blade.”

Sillek’s eyes turn to the second trooper.

“I be Kurpat, Lord Sillek. I couldn’t be adding much.”

“Did you leave my father?”

“No, ser.”

Sillek continues the questioning without finding out much more until he comes to Hissl.

“And, Ser Wizard, what can you add?”

“About the fighting, Lord Sillek, I can add little, except the thunder-throwers throw tiny firebolts, much like a wizard’s fire, but not so powerful.”

“If they were not so powerful, why are so many troopers dead?”

Hissl bows his head. “Because all of the strangers had the thunder-throwers, and because the thunder-throwers are faster than a wizard. If your father had twoscore wizards as powerful as Master Wizard Terek, there would be no strangers.”

“Pray tell me where I would find twoscore wizards like that?”

“You would not, ser, not in all Candar.”

“Then stop making such statements,” snaps Sillek. “Don’t tell me that twoscore wizards will stop the strangers when no one could muster so many wizards. Besides, you’d all be as like to fight among each other as fight the strangers.”

“Pray answer a widow’s question, Ser Hissl,” requests Ellindyja from the stool on the dais. “How was it that you counseled my consort to attack the strangers?”

Hissl bows deeply. “I am not a warrior, Lady. So I could not counsel the lord Nessil in such fashion. I did counsel him that the strangers might be more formidable than they appeared.”

“But you did not urge him to desist?”

Hissl bows again. “I am neither the chief mage of Lornth”-his head inclines toward Terek-“nor the commander of his troops. I have expressed concerns from the beginning, but the chief wizard advised me that, since I could not prove that the strangers presented a danger, we should defer to the wishes of Lord Nessil, as do all good liegemen.”

“You, Chief Wizard,” Ellindyja continues, “did you counsel Lord Nessil to attack the strangers?”

“No, my lady. I did inform him of their presence, and I told him that they were appeared likely to stay.”

“And that some were exotic women, I am sure.”

Hissl’s lips twitch.

Sweat beads on Terek’s forehead before he answers. “I did inform him that several, men and women, had strange silver or red hair. I also told him that they had arrived from the heavens in iron tents and that he should proceed with care.”

“You, Ser Hissl, did you bid him proceed with caution?”

“Yes.”

“Then why did he attack them?”

“My lady,” responds the balding wizard, “we rode up in peace, but the leader of the strangers refused to acknowledge Lord Nessil, even when he drew his mighty blade.”

“I see. I thank you, Ser Wizard.” Ellindyja’s voice is chill.

Hissl offers a head bow to her.

“Go … all of you.” Sillek’s face remains blank as the five troopers and the wizards walk quietly toward the door.