Penrys listened to Tun Jeju summarize the crux of the problem in front of the senior officers. The darkness outside the tent’s entrance reinforced the sense that they were focused together on a crucial decision.
“It comes down to whether you’re willing to cede Neshilik to Rasesdad in exchange for their help against this ‘Voice’ and his horde.”
Chang waved a hand dismissively. “If this Tlobsung had wanted that, he would not have tried to weaken us or to set us up for ambush from their enemy. He would have approached us for help.”
“Not the Kigaliwen,” Zandaril said, with a sardonic tone. “The Kigaliwen who do not trust wizards won’t trust Tlobsung’s wizards. The Kigaliwen who’ve never seen a qahulaj, a wizard-tyrant, won’t believe us when we tell them what’s coming. The Kigaliwen who conquered Neshilik permanently will not give it up again for a buffer state. The Kigaliwen will never ally with us, their traditional enemy.”
Chang glared at him, but he went on. “The Kigaliwen who are bringing an army of unknown size for arrival at an unknown time are better diverted north of our seized territory, and maybe our two enemies can weaken each other, or at least give us time to settle in and improve our defenses, for when the survivor comes after us. Maybe they’ll give us time to flee into sarq-Zannib if we can’t stand against them.”
“And if they ally with the horde, instead?” Chang said.
Penrys shook her head. “Never voluntarily. No one would. The only willing members are there for plunder.”
She leaned forward for emphasis. “I don’t know what this ‘Voice’ wants, but he’s bringing tools with him, human weapons, not builders and settlers. And he’s collecting and using wizards, which ought to scare you. It scares me.”
“Says the foreigner of unknown allegiance.” She stiffened at Sau Tsuo’s disbelieving voice.
Zandaril remarked. “How will Kigali, the nation without wizards, defend itself?”
Chang declared, “Kigali is too large, too many people. How could a conquerer, however powerful, rule it?”
“And if he absorbs more wizards?” Penrys said. “Takes all the ones left to the unconquered Rasesni, maybe detours through sarq-Zannib? How much of Kigali are you willing to give up? It looked like he was struggling to get through the barren mountains, but what about when he hits the farms of western Kigali?
“It’s true that he may find it hard to hold what he’s taking, but I think he’ll have no trouble defeating mundane armies, so who will protect the granaries? And when he gets far enough, what will they eat in the east, in the great cities?”
Tun Jeju said, “And just how will they defeat armies?”
“I remember our discussion before we left,” Penrys said. “But this threat’s very different. He has range, he has power. I’ve seen him immobilize people from miles away. There must be limits, but I don’t know what they are.
“The Rasesni are device builders and he’s using physical magic. Could he flood the terrain an army stood on, by pulling the water from the air? He used a lesser version of that to water the horde. Could he immobilize or kill the leaders from a distance? Pull their thoughts from their heads? He did that to us with some success, and we’re wizards ourselves. With that sort of power he should be able to send objects great distances—how about a rain of devices like the ones that Rasesni spy prepared, falling onto an army from the sky and exploding?”
It was so still inside the tent that the voices of men passing by outside were audible.
Chang took a deep breath and looked at Tun. “The plan being proposed is unworkable. I have no authority to enter into diplomacy with Rasesdad to discuss territory—my mandate is to take it back, if I can, or prepare for the main army to do so. They’re still a month behind, or more, and it takes days to send messages.”
He turned to Zandaril. “This story… they’ll never believe what you are describing as the danger. I know what their answers will be.”
Zandaril nodded. “Yes, we understand. This we cannot help you with. But if your superiors truly believed there was a serious enemy, stronger and more dangerous than the Rasesni, what would they have you do?”
Tun said, “Make the right tactical decision for the situation you find, Commander, and worry about forgiveness if we live through the result.”
“Or stand our ground and obey orders, Notju-chi,” Chang rebutted. “You of all people know what happens to those who exceed their mandate.”
Chang considered a moment and shifted focus. “If we did this thing, when would you do it?”
Zandaril said, “At once. No time to waste.”
“A provisional truce,” Penrys said, “in exchange for an army and especially a wizardly alliance for a joint defense. If they have ideas for attack, we want to share them. We need their wizards, we need their scouts, we need whatever they know about the horde, where it came from, what this Voice is.”
“We have two wizards,” Chang said, “and they have many. Why do they need us?”
Zandaril said, “We have scouts and a small force, maybe theirs is about the same size. It apparently fits in the Harlin meadow—how big is that? We have population in Neshilik who could maybe fight, if they understood the stakes. And one of our wizards bears a chain. This will mean something to them.”
“But that’s a bluff,” Penrys protested. “I can’t do what he does.”
“It’s a symbol, a good symbol,” Zandaril replied. “Symbols are very useful.”
“It still sounds like a bad idea,” Chang said. “Why wouldn’t they just attack us and move on out through the Gates to take their chances in the plains, if they’re that afraid? I don’t see how we can make this happen—they won’t trust us, and we have no reason to trust them.”
Tun said, “And what if it’s a deception? What if they ally with the Voice and the horde, and overrun us all. Who planted that lance—a scout from the Voice, or from Tlobsung? Our army might be able to hunt them out of the plains or dig them out of Neshilik again once it gets here, but that won’t do us here much good, after we’re dead.”
He glanced at Zandaril. “Or our wizards either, hostages with theirs.”
Sau Tsuo scoffed, “You’re just sending the spies on back to their master, and good riddance. They’ll come to no harm, you’ll see.”
Penrys and Zandaril left before midnight. A draft copy of the proposed document had been given to a scribe tasked with producing multiple fair copies by morning.
When they reached Hing Ganau’s wagon and the nearby tent, Penrys turned to seek her bedroll, but Zandaril stopped her, with a hand on her arm.
“I told Hing we were both moving into the wagon at night.”
She examined his face, where presumption warred with hope, and smiled. So, the Zannib robes have not changed him.
In an oddly courtly gesture, he offered her his hand and drew her the short distance to the back of his wagon, dangling his lantern from the other hand.
A small step stool, placed on the ground, made the scramble easier, and she waited for him there, standing on the bare deck. Their blankets were spread in the hollow space between the diminished stacks of supplies, private on three sides.
When Zandaril joined her, he pulled up the tail gate and untied the canvas, letting it dangle and block the view, like a bed curtain.
“Cozy,” she said. “Much better than the bare ground.”
“I’m glad you think so,” he said, his voice thick. “Not much room for wings, I’m afraid.”
“Oh, we’ll manage somehow.”
She cupped his cheek in one hand, and he leaned his head into it, like a cat. “I’d like to share with you, if you’ll let me,” she said. “For example…” *This is what it’s like for me when I lay my head to your chest and hear your voice rumble.*
She unfastened his formal robe and rough-folded it, then raised it to her nose to inhale the exotic spicy Zannib scent it carried before laying it onto a burlap sack. With his help she lifted off the shirt beneath and embraced him, her ear against his chest. *Say something.*
“I don’t know if I can do that with you,” he said.
She shared with him how that sound coursed through her physically, the tingle as it passed, and the heightened senses it left behind.
She felt his knees buckle, and he caught himself. “Ah.” There was a pause.
“What happens if I do this?” he murmured, as his hand reached out to play with her ear. *Or this?*
