Relics of War

Chapter Sixteen

The baron’s party left the next morning, heading back to Varag to bring Lord Dakkar their conclusions. Garander, both his sisters, and his parents gave them a friendly send-off, watching and waving as the foursome trudged off to the west.

Tesk was not there; he had retreated to the forest shortly after the introductions, saying that he had been alone too long to be comfortable among so many people. Several of the neighbors had seemed disappointed that they had not had a chance to talk at length with the mysterious Northern monster, but they had all gone home peacefully.

After the four were gone, and after their daily chores were done, Garander and Ishta slipped away for a brief visit with Tesk. They found him sitting in a tree, perhaps six feet off the ground, waiting for them; Garander hoisted Ishta up to sit beside him, then climbed up and found a seat on another limb. The shatra seemed his usual calm self, and after some polite discussion Ishta asked, “Aren’t you glad they’ll leave you alone?”

“They may not leave me alone,” Tesk replied. “They will report to their superior-the baron. He will determine what will be done.”

“Well, yes, but you heard them say they’ll tell him you don’t want any trouble,” Garander said.

“We do not know whether they spoke the truth. They may change their minds after taking time to consider. And we do not know how influential they really are.”

This matched some of Garander’s own unspoken concerns, but Ishta insisted, “No one’s going to bother you!”

“I hope you are correct,” Tesk answered.

The next few sixnights went well; the weather stayed relatively dry, allowing Grondar and his family to get much of the plowing and planting done. Ishta was able to slip away and visit with Tesk a few times, but Garander was generally kept too busy.

His mother suggested to Ishta she could invite Tesk for supper one night, which surprised the girl; what surprised Garander was when Ishta actually made the offer, and Tesk accepted.

Both Shellas went all out to make the best meal they could; the elder Shella had Garander slaughter one of the hogs, and presented her family and Tesk with a spectacular rib roast, mushroom soup, boiled apples, fresh bread, and herb butter.

The conversation was dominated by Grondar and Tesk exchanging war stories; Shella the Younger said little but seemed fascinated with the shatra, and Garander worried that she might be getting foolish romantic notions. When he got a chance he whispered to her, “Remember, he’s at least twenty years older than you, and he isn’t entirely human.”

“Shut up!” Shella hissed in reply, and Garander thought she blushed. She did a better job of hiding her interest afterwards, though.

After the meal they gathered around the hearth with a bottle of wine; Garander wondered whether Tesk realized what an extravagance this was. No one in the area had succeeded in growing decent grapes, which meant that wine had to be bought from merchants in Varag, with cash money; the family rarely drank any except at Festival, and even then they were limited to a bottle or two. The conversation continued, but became more general; Garander’s mother asked Tesk about his family, and only realized too late that not only were they were all dead, but that most of them had been killed by the gods of Ethshar in the campaign of extermination that ended the Great War.

When the wine was gone Shella invited Tesk to stay the night, but the shatra politely declined. Garander was relieved by that; although everyone seemed determined to treat Tesk as just another neighbor now, he was not. He was still a monster, even if a friendly one. Garander had risked his own life to prove that Tesk would not kill anyone, but that did not mean he was entirely comfortable with having the Northerner around while he slept.

Besides, the house was small, and crowded enough with just the five of them.

“I’ll fetch a lantern to light you home, then,” Grondar offered.

Tesk smiled slightly at that. “It is not necessary,” he said. “I can see well in the dark.”

“Oh,” Grondar said, looking at the shatra’s eyes. “Of course you can.”

Tesk had set his pack by the door; now he gathered it up and left. Garander went to the door, intending to watch their guest safely out of sight, but Tesk had already vanished.

He was pleasant company, but he really was not human.

It was mid-afternoon about ten days later, while Garander was hoeing weeds from the west field under scattered clouds on a cool spring day, that he heard an unfamiliar voice call, “Hai!”

He looked around, startled, but did not see anyone at first. Then he noticed a shadow, and looked up.

A red and brown carpet was hanging in mid-air, about fifteen feet off the ground, and a man in a blue robe and pointed hat was standing on it.

“I’m looking for Grondar of Lullen,” the stranger shouted.

“He’s my father,” Garander replied. “What do you want with him?”

“I understand he’s captured a shatra.”

Garander blinked. “Ah…no.”

“No?”

“He hasn’t captured anyone.”

“But there is a shatra in the area?”

Garander did not appreciate strangers coming around making demands, especially since it probably meant someone else wanted to kill Tesk-or perhaps that Lord Dakkar had hired new, more powerful magicians to carry out the execution. “Who wants to know?” he called back.

“Lord Edaran of Ethshar,” the stranger said.

Startled, Garander frowned. “The overlord of Ethshar of the Sands?”

“Exactly.”

Apparently the news of Tesk’s existence had spread farther than Garander had expected. “Are you claiming to be Lord Edaran?” he asked.

The stranger let out a bark of laughter. “Gods, no!” he said. “He just hired me to find the farm with the tame shatra. I’m called Zendalir the Mage. And you are…?”

“Garander Grondar’s son. And there’s no such thing as a tame shatra.”

Zendalir looked down his nose at Garander. “Well, I wouldn’t have thought so, but we’ve gotten pretty definite reports of one.”

“There’s one in the area, but he isn’t tame.”

“But it is a shatra? You’re certain?”

Garander had to think how he could phrase his response to give away as little as possible. He did not like this arrogant fellow, but he did not want to antagonize Edaran of Ethshar, who was one of the three most powerful non-magicians in the World. In the end he kept it simple. “Yes, I’m certain.”

“Excellent! I’d like to see it, if I may; is there someone here who can arrange that?”

“Just see him?”

“Yes. I’m not going to kill it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

It was. Seeing Tesk was not so terrible, and was definitely preferable to killing him, but Garander was still wary. He said, “He may not want to see you, and we can’t make him do anything.”

“Can’t you? I understood your family rendered it unable to harm people.”

For a moment Garander wondered what the magician was talking about, but he quickly realized this was a bizarre misinterpretation of the demonstration they had staged, showing that Tesk could control his demon. “No,” he said. “He chose not to hurt anyone.”

“A shatra chose not to kill Ethsharites?” The mage cocked his head. “We had assumed you had it under some sort of geas.”

“No.” Garander shook his head. “He’s not stupid. He knows the war is over. He just wants to be left in peace.”

“Well, that isn’t going to happen!” Zendalir said with a broad smile. “Is there some way you can arrange for me to speak to it, or whoever is in charge of it, on Lord Edaran’s behalf?”

“No one is in charge of him,” Garander said.

“Its representative, then?”

Puzzled, Garander said, “Representative?”

“Someone who can deliver the overlord’s offer.”

“I’m his friend,” Garander said, smacking the hoe’s head on the dirt by his feet. “I can tell him what you want.”

“A shatra has friends?”

“This one does.”

“Oh, very good! Tell it…”

“Him,” Garander corrected.

“Of course. Tell him, then, that Lord Edaran wishes to engage his services, and will pay a generous stipend.”

It took a moment for Garander to make sense of this; he knew the words, but did not see how they could apply to Tesk. Finally, though, he said, “The overlord wants to hire him?”

“Yes.”

“To do what?”

“You understand, boy, that we had thought we would be hiring your father-that he controlled this shatra somehow. You tell me that isn’t the case, so it seems Edaran needs to employ the shatra directly. Very well; that removes an unnecessary layer of administration. Yes, we want to hire him.”

“To do what?” Garander repeated. “He’ll want to know.”

“I should think it would be obvious. We want to study his magic, so that we can use it for the good of the Hegemony of the Three Ethshars.”

This had not been obvious to Garander at all. It did make a certain amount of sense, though. “I can tell him,” he said. “But I don’t know if he’ll be interested.”

“Well, I hope we can at least open negotiations.”

Garander turned up an empty palm.

Zendalir looked around, tapping his chin through his beard. “I can provide him with transportation to Ethshar,” he said. “Or I can bring Lady Shasha here, to conduct the overlord’s business.”

“Who’s Lady Shasha?” Garander did not keep up with politics, or try to remember all the names, but he was fairly certain he had never heard of a Lady Shasha.

“Oh, she’s one of Edaran’s advisors,” Zendalir said. “He’s appointed her to handle this matter. She’s actually the one who hired me, though I did get my instructions from the overlord himself.”

That did little to convince Garander of her intelligence; the flying carpet was impressive, but Zendalir did not seem very diplomatic, and his grotesque misunderstanding of the situation was somewhat worrisome.

“I think it might be best if this Lady Shasha came here,” he said.

“Would tomorrow afternoon, around this time, be agreeable?”

“It sounds fine to me,” Garander said, “but I don’t know what Tesk will think.”

“Tesk? I thought your father’s name was Grondar.”

“It is. We call the shatra Tesk. His real name is too hard to pronounce.”

Zendalir looked startled. “It has a name?”

“Of course he has a name!”

“All right, all right!” He held up both hands. “I’ll be back tomorrow with Lady Shasha to discuss terms, then.” He paused, staring at Garander. His tone was harsher as he added, “And I certainly hope, boy, that you haven’t been playing some sort of trick on me. It will not go well for you if it turns out you are not the shatra’s friend. If you have misled me in any way, now is the time to admit it-I will accept it as harmless youthful foolishness today, but tomorrow I will be far less forgiving.”

“I certainly haven’t intentionally misled you,” Garander said, resisting the urge to say more and make it clear just what he thought of the magician’s wits. Insulting a magician to his face was at least as stupid as anything Zendalir had done.

“Very well, then,” Zendalir said. “I shall see you tomorrow.” He raised a hand.

“Wait!” Garander called.

Zendalir paused in mid-gesture. “Yes? You have a confession after all?”

“No, of course not. In case Tesk asks, though-what kind of magician are you?”

Zendalir drew himself up to his full height, clapped a hand on his chest, and announced, “I am a wizard, boy! What else could I be? Did I not tell you I am a mage? Do you not see this magnificent carpet?”

“Oh-does mage mean wizard? I didn’t know.”

“A mage is a master wizard, you…lad! It denotes one who has attained a certain status in the Wizards’ Guild! And this carpet could be nothing but wizardry!”

“All right. We don’t see much magic out here.”

“Then how did-ah, but you claim the shatra is not enchanted.” He waved a hand. “It’s not my concern how you did it. I will see you tomorrow.” With that, the carpet rose, rotated a half-turn, and sailed off to the south.

Garander leaned on his hoe and watched it go. It had scarcely reached the horizon when both his sisters came running toward him.

“What was that?” Shella called.

“A wizard,” Garander replied. “On a flying carpet. He wants to talk to Tesk.”

Shella clapped her hands. “A real wizard?”

“You’ve met a wizard before,” Garander pointed out. “Azlia was a wizard.”

“But she didn’t have a flying carpet!”

“What does he want with Tesk?” Ishta asked. She sounded worried.

Garander could not help smiling at the absurdity. “He says Lord Edaran wants to hire him.”

Shella’s hand flew to her mouth. “Lord Edaran? Of Ethshar?”

Garander nodded.

“Hire him to do what?” Ishta demanded.

“To teach him Northern magic, I guess,” Garander said, turning up an empty palm.

Both girls fell silent at that; Garander nodded.

“Can he do that?” Shella asked.

“I have no idea,” Garander replied.

“If he wants to hire Tesk, why did he leave?” Ishta asked.

“He’ll be back tomorrow,” Garander said. “I promised I’d tell Tesk about the offer, and if he’s interested, he can meet the overlord and talk it over.”

“Lord Edaran is coming here?” Shella squeaked. “I need to wash my hair!”

“No, no,” Garander said. “The wizard is coming back tomorrow with the overlord’s advisor, Lady Shasha. If Tesk wants to talk to Lord Edaran he’ll have to go back to Ethshar with them.” Only after he had said this did the oddness of Shella’s comment strike him. “Wash your hair?”

Shella blushed, and turned away, saying, “I’m going to tell Mother.”

“I’ll tell Tesk,” Ishta said.

“I’ll come with you,” Garander told her. “I told the wizard I would talk to Tesk.” Then he raised his voice to call after Shella, “Tell Father, too! Ishta and I are going into the forest!”

Shella waved a hand in acknowledgment. Garander stared after her.

He had just realized why she had wanted to wash her hair before meeting Lord Edaran. She had listened to too many old stories about farm girls marrying princes. Lord Edaran was only seventeen or eighteen, and Shella was sixteen, so the idea wasn’t completely absurd, but the overlord was already married and the father of a son. None of the overlords had ever married more than one woman at a time, so far as Garander knew, and somehow he doubted anyone was going to break that tradition by marrying Shella.

No wonder she had blushed when she realized how silly she was being.

“Come on!” Ishta said. “Let’s go find Tesk!”

Garander insisted on stopping in the barn to put the hoe away, but then let Ishta lead the way into the woods.

Tesk had apparently not been expecting them; they wandered among the trees for perhaps half an hour before he finally came ambling toward them. Garander wondered where he had been, and why, but then reminded himself that it wasn’t really any of his business; despite what Zendalir might think, Tesk was free to do as he pleased and did not need to answer to anyone.

“Tesk!” Ishta called, the instant she spotted the shatra. “There’s a wizard looking for you, from Lord Edaran!” She ran toward him as she spoke.

Tesk caught her up and swung her around in a circle before setting her back on her feet. Garander remembered when their father used to do that; he had stopped a couple of years ago, apparently thinking Ishta was too old for such things. Ishta apparently didn’t agree-or perhaps it was different when it was an adult friend, rather than her father. Once she was standing on her own, Tesk asked, “Who is Lord Edaran?”

Ishta was too shocked by this ignorance to respond immediately, so it was Garander who said, “He’s the overlord of Ethshar of the Sands-a big city fifty leagues south of here. His father was General Anaran.”

“Anaran. Ah, yes. His son rules this city, this Ethshar of the Sands?”

“Yes.” It occurred to Garander that Tesk probably knew nothing of history after the fall of the Northern Empire, so he explained, “Admiral Azrad, General Gor, and General Anaran set up a new government after the war, with themselves as overlords, and their homes became cities called Ethshar. General Anaran died a few years ago, though, and Edaran took over as the new overlord of Ethshar of the Sands when he was just a boy, no older than Ishta is now.”

“A boy? Ruler of a city?”

“My father says they couldn’t agree on anyone else. His advisers actually run everything. Or at least, they did; there are rumors that Edaran’s trying to take charge.”

“I see. There is a wizard looking for me?”

“Yes!” Ishta exclaimed.

“Not Azlia?”

Garander shook his head. “No, Azlia works for Lord Dakkar. This was a man who calls himself Zendalir the Mage. He says Lord Edaran sent him.”

“How does Lord Dakkar relate to this?”

“He doesn’t. This is Lord Edaran’s doing-at least, that’s what the wizard says.”

“Does every lord have a wizard working for him?”

Garander turned up an empty palm. “I guess so. I don’t really know.”

“You call Edaran an overlord-is Lord Dakkar one of his underlings?”

“No, Lord Dakkar is one of the Council of Barons.”

Tesk stared at him for a moment, then said, “You said that Azrad, Gor, and Anaran set up a new government for Ethshar, ruled by three overlords.”

“That’s right.”

“Then what is this Council of Barons?”

Garander realized he had neglected to explain that, and tried to put it as simply as he could. “Oh, well-not everyone accepted the new government. Some of the commanders on the northern front said they weren’t going to take orders from anyone anymore, now that the war is over; those are the barons. Or at least, those were the first barons; some of their children have inherited their titles now. And they hold meetings at Sardiron of the Waters to discuss things, and settle any disagreements-that’s the Council.”

“Tell him more about the wizard!” Ishta burst out.

Tesk held out a hand to silence her. “I am trying to learn this. So after the Northern Empire fell, the Kingdom of Ethshar fell, as well?”

“Well…” Garander hesitated. He had never thought of it in those terms, but now that Tesk asked, he had to admit it was true. “Yes, I guess so. There’s Old Ethshar in the south, and I don’t know anything about it, and then the Hegemony of the Three Ethshars in the middle, and the barons and wilderness in the north. So the World is in three pieces now.”

Tesk smiled a tight little smile at that. “So it’s no more united now than it was during the war.”

“Tell him about the wizard!”

Garander and Tesk ignored Ishta’s outburst. “So Lord Dakkar of the Council of Barons sent his wizard to find me last month,” Tesk said, “and now Lord Edaran of Ethshar sends his wizard to find me.”

“That’s right,” Garander said.

“Lord Dakkar claimed to be protecting his people from the terrible Northerner,” Tesk said, “and you said this is his land. Why, then, is Lord Edaran seeking me?”

“Tell him, tell him!” Ishta said, bouncing up and down with excitement.

“He wants to hire you,” Garander said.

Tesk looked almost stunned, an expression Garander had never before seen on the shatra’s face. “Hire me.”

Garander nodded.

“To do what? Slaughter his enemies? Destroy the Council of Barons, so that he and Gor and Azrad can reclaim the north?”

Garander hesitated. Although he had not allowed himself to think about it, Tesk’s guess sounded somehow more believable than Zendalir’s story-but did Edaran really want to throw away twenty years of peace and start a new war? And a war that would be worse, because both sides would be Ethsharites, really, even if the barons no longer used the name.

“The wizard says they want to study your magic,” he said. “I don’t know if that’s the truth.”

“Then what do you know, Garander, my friend?”

“I know that the wizard says he’ll be back tomorrow, with Lady Shasha, one of Lord Edaran’s advisors, to talk to you about it.”

“On a flying carpet!” Ishta said. “Zendalir was flying on a big red carpet!”

Tesk considered this, then asked, “And what if I do not choose to speak with them?”

“I don’t know,” Garander said. “But…well, the wizard did say that I would be sorry if I had lied to him.”

Tesk’s usual grim expression turned even grimmer. “He threatened you?”

“Only if I was lying.”

“And how is he to determine whether you lied? Will he use his magic, or his assumptions, to determine the truth?”

“I don’t know,” Garander admitted.

“I will be there,” Tesk said.

“Mid-afternoon in the west field?”

“I will be there,” the shatra repeated.

It sounded to Garander just as much a threat as the wizard’s.