Julia entered the council tent that night with Lucius and Mathius by her side ready to do battle with words. The only light was that of a fire in the centre of the space set aside for the clan chiefs, but it was enough to reveal that she was early.
*Mazel took the suggestion better than I thought he would,* Mathius said as they entered the tent. They were using mindspeech to keep their conversation private from the thousands of warriors waiting to hear Mazel’s decision. *I thought he’d say no without hesitation.*
*Mazel is no fool,* Lucius said to that. *After what Kerrion revealed to him, he had at least to consider Lord Jihan’s proposal.*
Julia nodded her agreement. She paused just inside the entrance to the tent and looked around. She noted that Kerrion and his shaman were already present, but Mazel and his clan chiefs had yet to arrive. An uneasy silence fell when the tribal chiefs noticed her standing there, but conversation slowly picked up again when she said nothing. Julia picked her way toward Kerrion trying not to tread on anyone. The sides of the tent had been rolled up to let the cool night air blow through. She doubted that was the reason though. The weather had been mild all day but the night was chilly. Thousands of warriors surrounded the tent, rolling up the walls gave them an opportunity to listen to what Mazel had to say. When the debate began, they would have to relay what was said to those behind, but at least they would be present while their futures were decided. There were simply too many people to get close enough to hear directly.
Julia found a place to sit and tried to compose herself to wait quietly. What she really wanted to do was berate all those present for even considering giving up. Oh, they would deny it, but that’s what this debate amounted to.
“What’s wrong? You look angry,” Mathius said.
Julia smoothed her features. “I’m not angry. I was just trying to think of a way to sway Kumar,” she lied.
Kumar was a grizzled old warrior with a face like boot leather. Jihan’s idea was radical by clan standards, he wouldn’t be easy to persuade. Clansmen considered money irrelevant—the idea that some of their number might hire out as mercenaries would at first glance seem ludicrous. Julia could only hope they would come to see it in another light. Bear Clan had been badly mauled in the fighting and had suffered serious casualties, but nothing like the numbers lost by Dragon and Wolf Clans. That alone might sway his thinking. It was a slim hope in Mathius’ opinion, and he knew Kumar best. Kumar’s son was a shaman and a friend to Mathius. Julia secretly thought Mathius was right. They had no hope of dissuading Kumar now that he had voiced his intentions before so many of the other chiefs. He would lose face if he backed down now. In Julia’s opinion, Kumar had used his clan’s losses as an excuse to get the hell out of dodge while the going was good. Julia could almost admire the man for that. At least he wasn’t all bluster like some she could name. Kumar knew the realities of war and didn’t see it as a path to glory.
Mathius settled himself cross-legged beside Julia. “I don’t think anything will change his mind this late in the day. I’m not sure he’s wrong either.”
Julia scowled. It was the same old argument they’d had since all this began. Mathius felt it was wrong for her to use the clans against Navarien and always had. He didn’t seem to understand that they wanted to be used, or they had in the beginning. Much had happened since then. They had as big a stake in this war as any Devan did, perhaps bigger. If Deva fell, only its rulers would change, but the clan’s entire way of life was at stake should they lose. The clans valued their freedom above all else. Freedom to live as they always had, freedom to roam where they will when they willed. People leading such a life would not be easy to control. If Mortain wanted to rule them, he would have to change them. He would shackle them to the land—pen them in with his roads, and fences, and towns. That was what Mazel and the chiefs feared, and they were right to fear it.
Julia shook her head. “I don’t want to go through this again. You know my thoughts.”
“Yes, and you’re wrong,” Mathius said.
Julia scowled. She turned to Kerrion to prevent herself from saying something she would later regret. Kerrion sat with Shelim and a large knot of his shaman. Julia mused that it was a conspicuously separate group she had joined. Kerrion had done it on purpose of course. He had insisted that all his shamen would stay together and not sit with their own clans and tribes. It wasn’t a very subtle way of making his opinion known, but it was effective. Mazel would not like what it said about his authority over shamen, that was for sure. He was clan chief of Horse Clan, but also chief of chiefs for all the Camorin people. The shamen—like all other clansmen—should be under his authority, but Kerrion had made it plain more than once that this was not so. Kerrion led his shamen like a chief would lead his tribe—with authority, and like all chiefs, he expected to be obeyed. Unlike other chiefs however, he always received what he expected. Mazel knew that should Kerrion decide not to follow his orders, none of the shamen would either. Lucky for Mazel then that Kerrion supported him. Julia knew it didn’t make Mazel feel lucky, just angry.
“…not like it, but it’s done,” Kerrion was saying.
Julia shook herself and attended his words. “It’s a done deal then?”
Kerrion nodded. “A good way of putting it, Julia, but yes it’s done.” He shrugged. “Barring the arguing, of course.”
Julia sighed. “If the decision has been made, we waste time arguing about it.”
Shelim smiled. “It’s our way to argue things.”
“That may be, but we haven’t much time to waste.”
“Don’t worry so much, you’ll make yourself ill,” Kerrion said. “Mathius tells me that you’re still not sleeping.”
Julia glared. “Mathius has a big mouth!”
Mathius raised a hand. “Guilty,” he said unrepentant. “She needs to eat more as well.”
“Enough, Mathius.”
Mathius ducked his head, hearing the very real warning in her voice.
“He’s only voicing what we all know is the truth,” Lucius said. “You’re using too much magic and using it too often.”
“Don’t start that! Where would we be without my magic, eh?”
“Here of course,” Shelim said. “All paths lead to war.” He bit his lip, looking at Kerrion guiltily.
Julia’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean by that? What haven’t you told me, old man?”
“Oh, lots of things,” Kerrion said in amusement. “You’re too hasty, Julia. Just like Shelim.”
“Hey!” Shelim said in outrage.
Mathius and Lucius chuckled but it was a strained sound.
Julia would not be put off by it. “What have you seen?”
Kerrion shrugged.
“Tell me!”
Kerrion’s eyes narrowed. “Don’t threaten, daughter. It will do you no good.”
“You knew it would come to this… didn’t you?!” Julia accused. “My God, you knew that Kumar would lose that battle before he went!”
Kerrion waved that away. “Not that.”
“I don’t believe you.” Julia’s thoughts raced. “You told Mazel that you saw only victory for us here or south in Deva. If you knew that, why did you let Tobiah lead us all to disaster? Keverin died and all his men because you let that happen!”
Kerrion sighed. “You know as well as I that dreams show us what may happen, not what will. Possibilities, Julia, that’s all they are. Yes I foresaw that battle. I have seen it in my dreams for many summers. I first saw it while still an apprentice, and many other battles besides. Some did happen, some did not and never will now. Dreams are like mountains, Julia. To get to the summit you must start climbing at the bottom.”
“Explain,” Julia snapped.
“I have looked long and far for a way to save my people—my summit. I saw you. All other paths lead to our destruction. Tobiah had his part to play just as we all do. If Shelim had not gone north on my orders, Mazel would not have come to Denpasser. If Tobiah hadn’t lost his battle, Mazel would not have become Chief of Chiefs. If not for you and Mazel, we would not be sitting here today. You don’t know how fragile the future is, Julia. It is nothing but one dream piled atop another. If one fails, another will take its place and the path I follow to the summit changes.” Kerrion reached out and patted Julia’s knee kindly. “Take heart, daughter. Impatience is a fault in the young. You cannot reach the summit by leaping over the mountain. No one can do that, not even you.”
Julia’s thoughts were a whirl of confusion. She took a deep calming breath and let it out. Another, and her thoughts slowed and cleared. If Kerrion’s future was made of dreams, she knew hers was made of nightmares. She rarely slept anymore for fear of them, but if Kerrion was right, she ought to embrace them not shy away from them. That way she might learn what she desperately needed to know—how to kill Navarien.
Julia forced herself to smile at Kerrion while trying to think how she might steal enough Tancred to reach the dream world. “I’m sorry, father. Forgive me for doubting you.”
Kerrion smiled. “There’s nothing to forgive. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t argue all the time.”
Julia grinned, but this time it wasn’t false. “I hope you remember that next time!”
Kerrion and Shelim chuckled.
Mathius nudged Julia and she turned in time to see Mazel leading the Clan Chiefs into the tent. Mazel took his place in the centre of the cleared space while the other chiefs found places to sit. Julia watched Mazel and tried to catch his eye in hopes of learning his decision. Kerrion said it was a done deal, but one thing she had learned about the clans—they didn’t think like her. They could be unpredictable.
“It is time for our families to return home,” Mazel said and the lesser chiefs—those that led the tribes—murmured in surprise.
Julia glanced around trying to gauge the mood. Most of those present shared Mazel’s sentiment to some degree, but it held a lot of weight with the older warriors. To them, this war wasn’t a great adventure like some among the younger warriors seemed to think. They weren’t as eager to fight and perhaps die for glory. All they cared about were their wives and children. Their families were in danger while they remained between Navarien and his goal. As far as they could see, they had no stake in protecting Deva, except perhaps in stopping Navarien as some kind of revenge for destroying Dragon and Wolf Clans. Julia understood why they thought the way they did, but they were wrong. Mortain wanted all of Waipara not just Deva. He wouldn’t be satisfied with the three cities Navarien had conquered for him last year. Whether they wanted to believe it or not, Mortain would take their land. It was just a matter of time.
Mazel raised a hand and the whispers died away. “Jihan of Deva has called upon us to repay our debt to him.”
There were angry mutters and hostile looks at Julia. She smiled blandly. They knew that only a shaman could have told Jihan of the current situation, and she was an outclanner. Who else would have told him?
“Quiet!” Evan glared at the angry chiefs. “Turn your anger toward Navarien. Julia is one of us, and Jihan is a friend to our people. We owe him a debt of honour. To deny that dishonours us all.”
The chiefs were no less angry for Evan’s words, but at least they had the decency to look guilty. Inwardly, Julia sneered at the hypocrites and their notions of honour. If they were truly honourable, the idea of weaselling out of their debt would never have entered their heads.
“What has the outclanner asked of us?” Petya asked.
“Jihan knows of our plan to cross the river,” Mazel said, and this time it was his turn to glare at Julia. “He knows that Navarien will be upon him soon. He asks for warriors and shamen to help protect his people. I am told he will consider the debt paid if we will fight alongside him.”
Mathius stood. “Jihan will supply food and weapons, plus anything else you reasonably need. He will pay any who agrees to fight.”
“Pay?” Petya said ominously. “He thinks to buy our honour?”
“Not at all. Jihan offers you trade.”
“What trade?”
“For the use of Clan magic and warrior skills in defending Deva, Jihan will pay in gold.”
“What use is gold to us?”
Julia grinned. “You would be surprised how useful gold can be, Petya. In Deva, you could buy steel daggers and swords for your warriors, silk for your women, wool for your blankets… lots of other things. Think back to the gatherings of your youth, think about where the merchants came from. They were good days were they not?”
Petya nodded thoughtfully.
“Help Jihan, and the days ahead could be as good.”
Julia noted those who looked eager to go and those who did not. Not surprisingly, Kumar and Kornel were both of the latter disposition. Looking around, she would say that only a third or so of the chiefs would be willing to go south with her. She tried to calculate how many warriors that would add to Jihan’s cause, but it was a wasted effort. Not only did each of the chiefs command varying numbers of warriors, not all of those warriors could be expected to go—not when their families would be travelling home in the opposite direction.
“Deva has many warriors,” Petya said. “We should send shamen, not warriors.”
“No,” Mazel said quickly heading that idea off. “I will not send shamen alone to fight this war, our people need them. I do not trust outclanner swords to protect them.”
There were nods of agreement throughout the tent and Kerrion smiled in amusement. Shamen didn’t need swords to protect them, they could look after themselves, but it was good that Mazel saw their value to the clans. Shamen had been despised and misunderstood for many years, it must be gratifying now that that time was over.
“I have discussed how this is to be done,” Mazel said pinning each of the lesser chiefs with a stern look. “Each of you will choose half of your warriors to go south to aid Jihan. I will lead them. Kerrion will choose who among our shamen will go. The rest of our people will go north and back to our ranges.”
Half the warriors. That was more than Julia had been counting on and she was pleased. She had expected a lot less to head south with her, maybe one in three. She hadn’t considered that Kerrion would send some shamen north, but she should have. He obviously didn’t want to strip the clans of all their magic. Shamen were healers as well as advisors to the chiefs. Without them, the clans would have little or no way to heal the sick. Herb lore was very basic on the plains. How many would he let go?
“Kornel and Kumar will lead their entire clans north,” Mazel was saying. “Wolf and Bear have bled enough. Those chosen to go with them will be under their orders until safe from attack. They will take the clanless with them.”
“No!” anonymous voices in the night howled in anger.
A scar-faced man leapt angrily to his feet from where he had been sitting quietly among the shadows. “We are not clanless,” he spat angrily. “We are Dragon Clan! Let Bear Clan and the arse sniffing Wolves tuck their tails and run. We will not run with them!”
That caused an angry stir among the Wolf Clan chiefs. Kornel just watched and said nothing. If Julia was any judge of expression, Kornel didn’t want to run, but he was resigned to it. Most of his warriors had died in the same fight that had killed his son and Keverin among so many others. With so many women and children to care for, it would take all the warriors he had left just to hunt the bison and feed everyone.
Julia glanced at Lucius, *Who is scar face?*
Lucius turned to look. *The Dragon warrior?*
Julia nodded.
*That’s Lynd. He says he’s Dragon Clan chief, but the other chiefs won’t recognise him.*
*So that’s Lynd,* Julia said in surprise. *Mathius mentioned him. He’s younger than I thought he would be. Why won’t they recognise him?*
*As far as Mazel and the other chiefs are concerned, Dragon Clan ceased to exist at the start of the war. There aren’t enough people left for even a tribe to be viable let alone a clan.*
Julia nodded. *You mean he has too few warriors?*
Lucius shook his head. *Too few women.* He nodded at her surprise. *Most of the survivors were adopted by relatives into other tribes and clans. Lynd leads a few hundred warriors too stubborn or angry to do that. Mazel calls them the clanless. He can hardly call them Lost Ones can he?*
Julia nodded still watching Lynd. The Lost Ones had returned to the clans after the Hasians invaded and captured their cities. They were clan now. Clansmen recognised only two kinds of people—clan and outclan, but although Lynd’s people were undeniably of the clans, they had refused to follow tradition and be adopted. They were therefore clanless. Lynd and his followers did not see it that way. As far as they were concerned, they were Dragon Clan still.
Lynd was a good looking man despite the angry looking scar on his face. He was wide in the shoulders and slim hipped. Julia would judge his age at around thirty, maybe a little less. His dark shaggy hair reminded her of Keverin. The quick stab of pain that realisation caused, almost made her gasp. How could she find another man attractive when Kev hadn’t even been dead a month? How could she even think of looking at another man that way? She would never look at another man like she had Kev. Never!
Kerrion and Shelim were whispering urgently. Shelim didn’t look happy about something, but Kerrion was determined. Before Julia could ask what it was about, Kerrion stood and interrupted the argument between Mazel and Lynd.
“Lynd and those that follow him have a part to play in the south,” Kerrion said surveying the chiefs and a hush fell over the tent. “While Lynd lives, Dragon Clan lives. His warriors will fight in the south. I have seen it.”
Kerrion sat next to an unhappy Shelim and looked on in silence.
Mazel glared at Lynd then transferred it to Kerrion. “I am chief of chiefs. If I say Lynd goes north, he goes north!”
If he sent him north… if? Julia glanced at Kerrion, but he stayed quiet. Shelim caught her staring and grimaced. Julia didn’t know why Kerrion thought they needed a few hundred extra warriors and didn’t really care. She wouldn’t turn away anyone who wanted to kill Hasians.
“You should let him come, Mazel,” Julia said and Kerrion turned to watch her with a smug little smile on his face. She frowned; he seemed very self-satisfied about something. She waved a hand at the watching shamen. “We will need protection while we work our magic. Perhaps Lynd would agree to guard us?”
Lynd wasn’t a stupid man; young for the title he claimed, yes, but not stupid. He knew that if Mazel insisted upon turning him and his warriors away, nothing he could do would change his mind. He claimed the title of Clan Chief, but it was an empty title when no one recognised it. He needed support. Even if that support came from a shaman who was an adopted outclanner, still he needed it.
“My warriors will guard our shamen with their lives,” Lynd said still watching Julia.
Julia shifted uncomfortably under his hot eyes.
Mazel made a sound of disgust and threw up his hands. “So be it! I’ve had enough of this foolishness. Prepare to break camp!”
With that Mazel stomped out of the tent and into the night. With a sigh, the chiefs stood and drifted away chatting together or bellowing orders to break camp. Lynd came over and stood before Julia. He studied Lucius and Mathius for a moment and dismissed them. He hesitated uneasily under Kerrion’s quiet but authoritative gaze, managed to drag his eyes away to briefly land upon Shelim where he flanked Kerrion, and then finally back to Julia.
“Why?” Lynd said, looking down at her. He was head and shoulders taller than she. “Why help me?”
“Because you and I are alike.” Julia smiled a crooked smile when his eyes widened. “Whether you know it or not, we are the same.”
“You are…” Lynd caught himself before he voiced the insult. “You were an outclanner, and now you’re a shaman. We are not the same.”
Julia led Lynd out of the tent so that the impatient clansmen waiting outside could strike it. They extinguished the fire and the tent came down almost on her heels. She waved Lynd forward to walk beside her. Mathius and Lucius whispered behind her back trying to interrogate Kerrion on this turn of events.
“You’re wrong. I wasn’t born clan, and I’m a shaman, but neither of those things matter.” Julia stopped and looked into his eyes. “You want revenge on those who destroyed your clan. All I care about is killing Hasians. We’re a perfect match, you and I.”
Lynd stared into her eyes and shivered at what he found there. Julia smiled and walked away. He did not follow.
Days later, Julia stood on the bank of the River Anselm as the sun came up. “No way are we bridging that,” she said to herself. The river was so wide that the far bank was only a faint smudge in the distance.
It took a day and a night for Mazel to agree that his plan to break contact with Navarien's forces had worked. They had broken camp in record time and rode straight south at breakneck speed to achieve it. Mazel had been determined to put as many leagues between them and the Hasians as he could that first night. He knew the sorcerers would discover their retreat as soon as there was light enough for them to use their mirrors. Julia and the others had charged recklessly into the night in an exhilarating dash, but Cavell was sure footed and strong. He had carried Keverin on his last ride into battle and had carried Julia in her battles against the Hasians since then. He hadn’t let her down. The clan way was to alternate riding their horses at the gallop with jogging beside them. In that way, Julia had stumbled tiredly into camp before the sun had reached its zenith the following day. That was yesterday and her legs still ached. Lucius and Mathius could barely move this morning. They had awoken stiff and very surly.
Julia grinned remembering some of their complaints. The sound of footsteps approaching made her turn. “Lynd.”
“Julia,” he said in greeting. He stopped beside her and shielded his eyes against the sun’s glare over the water as he studied the distant shore. “You haven’t slept.”
“I don’t sleep.”
Lynd didn’t give away what he thought of that. His other hand wandered up to the golden torque around his throat. “Ingharr was my father’s brother. Did you know that?”
Julia shook her head.
“After the outclanners killed him, one of the survivors took this and brought it to my father. There wasn’t time for the chiefs to gather and choose another to wear it, so he declared himself Clan Chief of Dragon Clan. He wore it for a few days before he was killed.”
“I’m sorry.”
Lynd’s lips twisted. “Don’t be, he was a fool. Did you know that Ingharr was a great warrior? He and my father were the deadliest fighters in the entire clan. No one ever bested my father, not even me. He was the one who gave me this.” He stroked his scar. “He said it was to remind me not to try him again, but even he feared to challenge Ingharr. They were both hard men and brave, but they were fools for all their skill with sword and bow. Our warriors did not honour them, they feared them. It was arrogance that killed them both and destroyed our clan. The outclanners were simply the God’s instrument.”
Julia glanced at Lynd uncertainly. “I used to believe God loved us no matter what we do, but I don’t think like that anymore. He doesn’t care at all.”
“Oh no,” Lynd said in surprise. “You mustn’t think that, Julia. He does care. He hates us, don’t you see?”
“Yes…” Julia whispered feeling the rightness of it. “Yes, I see.” And she did. Lynd was as mad in his way as she was in hers, but it was a focussed madness. They were both focussed upon Navarien's destruction.
“This thing is cursed,” Lynd said touching the torque again. “I wish Ingharr had never made it.”
“Why wear it then?”
“It’s a symbol. While one of us wears this, we can pretend that the clan goes on as it always has. It’s my turn now, my burden to bear.”
Julia knew about bearing burdens. Keverin’s death was the heaviest, but there were others. “You say Ingharr made that?”
“The old one wasn’t grand enough for him so he made this.”
“What happened to the old one?”
“He melted it down I think. Hundreds of years old it was, maybe thousands. Who knows? That should tell you something about him, Julia. Nothing mattered to Ingharr except Ingharr. I will not grieve for him and neither should you.”
“I won’t then, but don’t expect me to thank the Hasians for killing him… or for anything else.”
Lynd’s face twisted into a snarl of hatred. “Thank them? Never that. I may not have honoured my father, but that doesn’t mean I wanted him dead at outclanner hands. My mother is dead, my brothers are dead, my sister and her husband are dead, my entire family… all dead. I have nothing left but my horse and the hatred I bear for outclanners.”
“I’m an outclanner,” Julia said. “You’ll be fighting for another one soon. Remember that.”
“I forget nothing. I remember you fighting outclanners, I remember you killing hundreds of them. No matter what you were before, you are Clan now.”
The silence between them stretched out for a while. Julia returned to her study of the river. With a shift of perception that was second nature now, she used her mage sight to check the river bed and far bank. The river was easily half a mile across, but although it was deep and the current almost nonexistent in the real world, it raged between its banks in the realm of power. Julia frowned. She had noted this kind of thing before. Even a simple stream had muscle in the realm of power. It wasn’t magic; she knew where that came from. It was… potential maybe? She nodded to herself. Yes, it was as if the water stored power like a flywheel stored energy. The power stored in a river, even a peaceful one like this, was vast, yet she saw absolutely no way to make use of it. With another shift of perception, she returned to the real world.
“Can you really bridge this?” Lynd said.
Good question!
Julia shrugged. “Kerrion says we can.”
“That will be something to see.”
“You’ve seen magic before.”
Lynd shook his head. “Not really. The outclanner shamen used fireballs… I suppose they were magic, but fire is fire no matter how it came to be.”
“You’ve seen the wards,” Julia said making a vague gesture at the camps at their backs. She could feel them even at this distance.
“I suppose so,” Lynd said not very impressed.
Julia grinned. “I could show you something if you want.”
Lynd nodded obviously hoping she would offer. Julia wondered if he had some ulterior motive, but she couldn’t think of one except curiosity. She didn’t need to grasp her magic first; she rarely let it go anymore. The magic pouring through her was comforting. Without it she felt empty. She was so used to it thrumming in her head now that she no longer thought about it. It drove the others to distraction—especially Mathius who had been trained harshly to use his magic sparingly. Lucius didn’t like it either. Sorcerers were trained to break their links to the magic as soon as a spell was complete.
Julia thought for a moment and had an idea. “Have you ever seen the creatures that your clan was named for?”
“Dragons aren’t real, they’re just a myth.”
“You’re wrong, Lynd, they’re as real as you and I. Here, let me show you,” Julia said and concentrated upon her illusion.
Julia had never seen a live dragon, but she knew what they looked like from a couple of different sources. There were books in the library at Athione, and a number of tapestries in the great hall featured them, but by far the most useful source were the visions she’d had while under the effects of Tancred. When the sorcerers kidnapped her from Devarr, they had forced her to drink Tancred to keep her quiet. While under the control of the vile drug, she’d had visions and dreams of the founding of Deva. She had witnessed the battles fought against dragons and new what marvellous creatures they were. Dragons weren’t dumb animals as some seemed to believe. They were a people different from humans, but they could reason and talk… and wage war. The tapestries and other pictures didn’t do the reality justice.
Julia concentrated hard upon the image of one particular dragon she remembered seeing basking on the shores of the lake at Devarr. The image of the huge creature wavered and solidified into being a short distance from where she was standing. With the waters of the river behind it, it looked perfect.
“By the God!” Lynd cried in awe.
Julia smiled and tweaked the spell’s matrix a little. Lynd paled as the black dragon opened its eyes to look at him. They were bigger than his head. Another tweak of the spell, and the lazy creature yawned widely to display its huge teeth. It kept its jaw on the ground and moved only its upper jaw and head, just as the dragon had done in her vision. Feeling more adventurous, she made it spread its wings and fan them. Another little additional spell made the wind stir in time with the lazy wing beats. Julia was enjoying Lynd’s amazement. She tweaked the spell again and her dragon obediently folded his wings and made his claws spring out to gouge the turf. For authenticity’s sake, she made sure to rip the turf below each claw. It was perfect.
“Can I touch it?”
“It won’t bite if that’s what you mean,” Julia said in amusement. “Try.”
Lynd stepped warily up to the dragon and reached out. His hand sank into its head and Lynd snatched it back as if burned. The illusion was unaffected apart from a momentary wavering of the image where his hand had been. With more confidence now, Lynd reached out to run his hand over one of the huge wings as if stroking it. The image rippled and wavered.
“He’s beautiful,” Lynd whispered turning to Julia in delight.
The look Lynd gave her was one of pure admiration. Julia flushed and was grateful for the distraction that Kerrion provided a moment or two later. She used Kerrion’s approach as an excuse to look away from Lynd. Kerrion was leading a large contingent of his shamen to the river while behind him the camps erupted into a hive of activity. People were striking tents and packing wagons everywhere she looked. Lucius and Mathius chatted and laughed with Shelim as they walked toward her; they looked happier than they had and much recovered from the journey.
“Is it time?” Julia said interrupting Kerrion’s scrutiny of her dragon.
Kerrion nodded.
Shelim cocked his head at the dragon then squinted at Julia. “Pretty,” he said and flicked a glance at Lynd. “Trying to impress someone?”
Julia flushed again and let the illusion vanish. “Just something to do while I waited for you. Are you ready to tell me the secret now?”
Lucius would have said something, but Mathius took his arm and whispered something. Lucius nodded and waited for Kerrion to explain.
“There is no secret, daughter,” Kerrion said. “You could have asked me about it.”
Julia nodded. “Maybe I could have, but would I have gotten a straight answer?” By her tone she made it plain she didn’t think so.
Shelim chuckled and the other shamen smiled in amusement. Julia, however, did not. When Kerrion remained silent, she sighed and rubbed her brow. She was getting a headache and the twinkle of amusement in Kerrion’s eyes wasn’t making it better. Rather than argue, she gave him what he wanted.
“Kerrion, honoured father, please will you tell me what you have in mind so that I can help with this spell?”
Kerrion’s lips twitched. “There, that wasn’t hard was it?”
Julia scowled and turned an indignant look upon Mathius when he snickered behind his hand.
“I will show you what I have in mind,” Kerrion said waving his shamen into position. “But you will not be needed for the spell.”
Julia began to argue, but then she shrugged. What was the point? As long as the spell worked, she didn’t care who cast it. Besides, as long as she paid attention she would be able to duplicate it when needed. She watched carefully as Kerrion’s shamen linked as she had taught them. Each group turned as one and began weaving a spell in the air over the waters of the river. Julia frowned even as she committed the matrix to memory.
“Weather working?” Julia asked.
Lucius joined her. “Amazing isn’t it?”
“It’s something.”
Mathius nodded. “My father was always good with the weather.”
“So are you,” Julia said absently. “What does weather have to do with bridging the Anselm?”
“Watch and see,” Lucius said.
Julia scowled. “Not you too!”
Julia shivered as the temperature fell steeply, but when she looked up, she found no change in cloud cover. The last few stars had fled during her demonstration for Lynd, and the sun was above the horizon now. She looked around expecting to see something, but apart from puffs of breath there was nothing. Frost began forming upon the ground and rime appeared along the water’s edge. The shamen took no notice of the cold while Julia shivered. Breath hung around them like mist. Julia turned to see crowds from the camps forming to watch the show. The problem was, there was nothing to see.
“Where’s the bridge?” Julia said.
“There,” Mathius said pointing toward the water. “It’s starting.”
Julia frowned at where Mathius pointed. “Ice?”
Lucius nodded. “Quick and easy. I’m surprised no one else has thought of it.”
“Perhaps they did and we just don’t remember,” Mathius said. “It’s a clever use of magic I admit, but not exactly practical for everyday use.”
Julia shook her head as a thin sheet of ice quickly began spreading across the river. Pieces broke off to float away on the current but the main mass continued to grow and thicken. It wasn’t long before the leading edge reached the far shore and the ice bridge spread wider. Julia shivered and her teeth chattered. She wasn’t sure it was all to do with the cold. She was impressed despite herself.
Things began happening quickly after that. Once the bridge was thick enough to support horses and wagons, people began crossing. Kerrion ordered some of his shamen to maintain the bridge while the others went to help break camp. Mazel and the chiefs had things well in hand. Warriors on horseback carefully crossed the bridge and took defensive positions on the far bank. After them, the women and older children drove the horses across and into pasture. Wagons filled to the brim with tents and supplies came next, and finally the women with young children and babes in arms. The last to cross was Wolf and Bear Clan’s warriors—they were the rear guard. Mazel watched his family and friends riding away in silence. Chief Kornel was the last man to cross. He urged his horse to the edge of the ice and halted. He turned to look back and found Julia watching him.
“Keep them safe, woman,” Kornel said. “Keep them safe.”
Julia swallowed and nodded to her friend. “I’ll try.”
Kornel nodded and rode his horse out onto the bridge and across the river at the walk.
* * *