The Unconquered Mage Page 20

  “I think that unlikely,” Cederic said, “but this appears to be our only recourse.”

  I sighed. “When are we leaving?”

  “In two days,” Cederic said. “The weather is still against us, but we need to reach Barrekel before Domenessar is capable of sending out messengers, and soldiers, to threaten the other Lords Governor who might be intimidated into supporting him. I think it will be more difficult to convince them to change sides if they are already committed to him.”

  “And what’s the plan for if Domenessar is unreasonable and tries to kill us?” I said.

  “Your optimism is truly endless,” Cederic said with a small smile. “As I said, we fight to defend ourselves, and if Domenessar dies in that fighting, then our problems are different.”

  “Starting with how the other Lords Governor will see you as a threat to them, and refuse to follow you, your Majesty,” Mattiak said.

  “As I said, different problems,” Cederic said. “General Tarallan, would you find Lord Crossar a place to sleep? We will meet again in the morning to continue planning for the march.”

  Mattiak nodded, and once the tent was empty but for Cederic and me, I said, “That wasn’t how I imagined this evening going.”

  Cederic put his arms around me and held me close. “I don’t know what to say to you,” he said. “That was quite a revelation.”

  “I don’t know what to think,” I said. “It doesn’t change who I am, but it will change how a lot of other people see me. And Roda…what will she think? She’s head of a noble family now!”

  “I suppose some will insist I release you from your marriage oaths and marry her instead,” he teased.

  “You’re not her type,” I said. “Besides, she’d have to fight me for you, and I fight dirty.”

  He laughed. “I have just imagined you fighting some other woman for my affections. I find the idea incredibly arousing. I hope you are not offended.”

  “Of course not,” I said, “so long as you remember who you’re supposed to bestow those affections on.”

  We went to bed, but it took me a while to fall asleep, and when I did sleep, I had unsettling dreams—not about Crossar’s revelation, or facing Domenessar, or anything else I might reasonably dream about, but about the palace at Colosse and its many passages that grew and divided as I walked through them. So I’ve been foggy all day. It feels strange, as if we invented my noble rank to give us an edge in this war. I can’t tell if the Balaenics in the camp don’t know yet, or if they already respect me as Empress-Consort and therefore this doesn’t make a difference. Though since most of the soldiers are younger than I am, they’re probably just as uninformed about Alenik Daressar as I was.

  I told Roda about it first thing this morning, and she laughed because she thought I was joking. Then she went very quiet when I insisted that no, it wasn’t a joke, she was Roda Daressar and head of our family. Then I said, “I suppose I should have gotten your permission to marry. Or something. I don’t actually know what the rules are about noble families. But it’s all true.”

  “No wonder I couldn’t find anything about Dad,” she said. “Sesskia, what am I supposed to do with this?”

  “I don’t know,” I said. “It’s not like we have money or property. Though I suppose when this is all over, we can find out if there’s anything you’re entitled to. All we have now is the name.”

  “I like my life, Sesskia,” Roda said. “I don’t want to get tangled up in political intrigue. But—I don’t want to lose this. It’s all we have left of Dad.”

  “I don’t know if you have to give up your life,” I said, “though you…well, you’d have to have children if you don’t want the name to disappear, since my children will all be heirs to the Imperial throne.”

  Roda made a face. “I suppose I could endure that, in Dad’s memory,” she said. “Damn Crossar for everything. I just hope it helps in the war, the name, I mean.”

  “Me too. I’m not looking forward to facing Domenessar again. I’m still not confident he’s going to care what my name is,” I said.

  “You can convince him,” she said. “I can’t believe how much more confident you are. I mean, it’s been a long time, you were just a kid, and of course people change over time, but you always sort of faded into the background, and now people look to you.”

  “It’s uncomfortable. I don’t like being noticed,” I said, “but you’re right, people look to me now, and I have to accept that.”

  Which I mostly have. I guess Domenessar scares me, probably because, having seen Barrekel and heard about his rule, I know he’d be good at ruling all of Balaen. My not liking him doesn’t change that. But he won’t be able to rule a united Castavir and Balaen, and that’s why we have to get him on our side.

  After I talked to Roda, I went into Lethess to meet with Granea. I’d hoped she knew something of my Dad, but she said she’d never met him. “But everyone knew Alenik Daressar was a man of honor,” she said. “You can be proud to be his daughter.”

  “I already was proud,” I said, “but it’s good to know he wasn’t just like that because he was forced to be humble.”

  “He was Lord Governor of Hasskian before he—you—disappeared,” Granea said. “I came to power about five years after that. None of the Lords Governor ever talked about him when we met in council twice a year, but sometimes someone would slip and say something about an innovation he’d made, or some policy he’d proposed. So he was a legend even then.”

  “I’ve been trying not to wish things were different,” I said. “If he’d lived, Roda and I wouldn’t have had a reason to leave Thalessa, and none of this would have happened.”

  “It’s not wrong to wish you’d known your father better,” Granea said.

  “That’s true,” I said. “But it sounds like there are a lot of people who did know him, and I hope we don’t have to go to war against them.”

  I spent the afternoon with the mages, who are working on a kathana to reveal residual magic. None of them care about my newly revealed status, since magic is more important to all of us, and things are moving along really well. We should have no trouble working on this as we travel to Barrekel, though Jeddan won’t say how long he thinks it will take. He’s getting to where he understands Castaviran magic as if he’d been born Castaviran, though he can’t scribe th’an, and overall there’s a sense of optimism we haven’t felt in a long time.

  Naturally, this worries me. What will we do if this new kathana fails? We’re running out of possibilities to try, and you can only endure so many failures before you lose hope entirely. So I’m being encouraging and positive in public, keeping my pessimism to myself and making plans for what I’ll do if everything starts falling apart again. I wonder if that’s the job of every leader or if it’s just my own unique approach.

  Leaving for Barrekel in the morning. Cederic went in to talk to Radryntor today and I haven’t seen him, but he’s supposed to join us for dinner in Lethess and we’ll find out what happened. Personally, I think he should ignore her, go win this war and then put someone else in her place, but he said he wanted to give her a chance to rethink her attitude toward Balaen. Sometimes Cederic’s optimism astonishes me.

  27 Teretar

  It feels as if we’re moving backward in time, leaving behind the pleasant if chilly weather of the coast for the snows and sharp winds of the inland. It was a clear day, though, and we made good time.

  I helped teach the see-inside pouvra to the Balaenic mages today. It’s exhausting, studying pouvrin, and more exhausting trying to demonstrate the shapes when none of us can actually see them. I think that’s why everyone’s so eager for this kathana to work. Being able to see pouvrin will make a huge difference.

  Cederic said Radryntor welcomed him, but cautiously. It was the kind of welcome that said she was worried about losing her status rather than that she’d changed her mind and was now firmly on our side. We discussed it in bed last night, and Cederic said, “She will have to
go, once we are in a position to reorganize the government.”

  “She’s not going to be happy about that. Not that I care about her happiness, but does she have any power to fight us?” I said.

  “She can create discord in the towns under her rule,” he said. “She is a popular and effective ruler, and her citizens will not be happy to see her go. They might rise up against whomever we put in her place.”

  “Well, that doesn’t sound like a good reason to keep her,” I said. “I mean, I’m in favor of people having a say in government, but we can’t let them bully or blackmail us into doing whatever selfish thing they want.”

  “And they will resist the changes we make even if we do not remove Lady Radryntor from power,” Cederic said. “I am afraid we are facing many years of strife, even after we defeat Renatha Torenz.”

  “I notice you never say ‘if we defeat her,’” I said.

  “I try not to let myself think in those terms,” he said. “Failure in this will be fatal not only for us, but for our country. So I act, and believe, as if we have won. It reminds me of the commitment we have both made.”

  “I like it,” I said. “You’re teaching me optimism.”

  “And you are teaching me perseverance,” he said. “I believed myself dedicated until I met you and realized what it truly meant to pursue a goal with unflinching determination.”

  “That’s a nice way of saying I’m stubborn and pig-headed,” I said. He laughed, and we snuggled up together and went to sleep.

  28 Teretar

  It’s not a kathana. It’s a pouvra.

  The theory at this point, thanks to Terrael and Jeddan, is that th’an soak up too much foundational magic (our new name for residual magic, still clunky but more accurate) for it to be visible. Making a kathana to reveal it would be like getting a closer look at water by soaking it up with a sponge—what you’re looking at is concealed by the container holding it. But pouvrin, being themselves structures of magic, don’t obscure the foundational magic, and we think we might be able to create a pouvra that will actually reveal it.

  This is much harder than I’ve made it sound. I’m the only person who’s ever invented a pouvra, and I needed the th’an to give me a starting place. Jeddan thinks if we start with the see-inside pouvra, we can add to it or alter it to create a pouvra that lets us “see inside” the magic. I think he’s right. This leaves our Castaviran friends with nothing to do but observe, but they also go through the camp renewing the heating th’an and performing other little tasks. Only the crucial little tasks, though, because we all still become exhausted far more quickly than before. Magic is still fading, and that gives our efforts more urgency.

  It’s strange how I don’t feel the way I used to when I worked pouvrin, that fear and excitement and the sense of being filled to bursting with power. It feels…faded. Distant. As if I’m reaching for a memory of power. It frightens me, because for so long magic was all there was to me, and even though I have friends and a husband and rank and responsibility now, magic is still at the core of my identity, and I can feel it slipping away. I refuse to believe this is inevitable. We will find a solution.

  We all work separately now (the Balaenic mages, I mean) with me teaching the see-inside pouvra to those who don’t know it yet and the ones who do experimenting with creating new shapes from it. I think most of them aren’t really sure what they’re doing, and only about half of us know the pouvra, but this is the best approach we could come up with, so it’s what we’re doing. Terrael and Audryn stay with us, Terrael sketching out th’an that might represent shapes that could be added to the pouvra and Audryn keeping me company when I have to rest. She looks so much better now she’s not working magic all the time. Better, and happy, and very pregnant. I asked her yesterday how she knew the baby was a girl, and she said there’s a kathana that reveals the baby’s sex. Of course. I wonder if that will still be possible when I’m pregnant, since we hope to reunite the magic before the two sides clash and who knows what it will look like then. I try not to think about it, pregnancy I mean, but with Audryn right there all the time it’s hard not to.

  I practice the binding pouvra a lot these days, because it’s the least draining and that makes it easier to see the foundational magic attached to it, or coming off it, or whatever. It would be nice if it were what we need to bring the magics together, but there’s still nothing for it to hold onto. Once we can finally see the foundational magic, maybe that will change, but I think if it were that easy, the binding pouvra would have worked already.

  I don’t see Roda much during the day, though we usually have lunch together. I know she hasn’t spoken to Crossar, and when I asked her about it, she said she wasn’t sure she could meet him without trying to kill him. I think the knowledge of what he did has exacerbated her guilt over leaving us. And she’s also told me she doesn’t see any point to it, because it’s not as if it will change anything, her confronting him. She’s more well-adjusted than I am, I think, but then she always was rational in her decision-making. She’s going to stay with us until Teliarne, then head south to Garwin, but she promised she’ll keep in touch. I don’t know how her life is going to change now—it’s something I have to find out once our rule is mostly secure—but it’s got to be as much a shock to her as becoming Empress-Consort was to me.

  1 Shelet

  There hasn’t been anything worth writing about for the last several days. All but three of our Balaenic mages have learned the see-inside pouvra, which means in a day or two I’ll be done teaching and can begin experimenting with the rest of them. Cederic rode with me for a while today while I rested, and he and Audryn and Terrael told stories of the Darssan, and people they knew there. I’ve never seen Cederic so relaxed around any of the mages. Which is probably why, when we were eating alone in our tent tonight, he said, “I wish I had your gift for making friends. I have worked closely with Master Engilles and Master Peressten for many months now, and I…consider them friends. But I fear they still feel the barrier between us that is my hieratical rank. I don’t know how to break that barrier.”

  “You could ask them to use your first name,” I said. “That’s how our friendship began. Yours and mine, I mean.”

  “Did it?” he said, raising one eyebrow. “For me that was the beginning of falling in love with you.”

  “Well, for me it let me feel as if you weren’t so distant,” I said, “though it took me a while to get past how awkward I felt using your praenoma when we weren’t really friends yet.”

  “Any awkwardness I felt around you was a result of being completely indecisive as to whether I should pursue you openly,” he said. “What would you have done if I had?”

  I laid my fork and knife down and leaned back in my chair. “I don’t know,” I said. “I didn’t feel anything for you for a long time, not even friendship, but if I’d known you were interested in me…that might have started me thinking along those lines. Or it would have made me feel more awkward, and I would have told you I wasn’t interested, and we wouldn’t be here now. Just as well I didn’t find out until I’d already fallen in love with you.”

  He reached across the little table and took my hand. “I count myself fortunate you did,” he said, “and that you forgave me so completely when I expected nothing from you but anger and recrimination. I have never known anyone with such a generous heart as yours, Sesskia.”

  “You mean the generous heart that kept me from forgiving Roda for most of three weeks?” I said with a grin.

  “The generous heart that eventually forgave what most others would see as unforgivable offenses,” he said. “And chose to allow Caelan Crossar to live. Don’t think I did not realize his death was a possible outcome of that meeting.”

  “I don’t know if that was generosity or just pragmatism,” I said. “I haven’t forgiven him.”

  “And I do not expect you to,” Cederic said, “because that is a choice you alone can make. I think in some cases, refusing to pursue vengea
nce is all that forgiveness can manage, and that is also admirable.”

  “Good, because I’m not going to forgive him,” I said. “Do you have another meeting tonight?”

  “I do not,” he said, tightening his grip on my hand, “because I intend to spend the evening with you, and I intend us both to be naked for it. If you agree.”

  “Well,” I said, standing up and moving to put my arms around his neck, “I was planning to sit around staring at the walls, but your idea has merit.”

  So we did that, and then I wrote for a bit while Cederic went off to ask someone about our itinerary, then he came back and is rubbing my back while I finish this entry. I wonder if he knows I sometimes watch him while he’s talking to our advisors, or giving a speech, and remember moments like this one—where he’s just Cederic Aleynten who loves Sesskia Daressar. That’s the strangest feeling, writing my surname. Castavirans don’t have a tradition of one spouse taking his partner’s name, which is why Terrael and Audryn still have different surnames; girl children take their mother’s name and boys take their father’s. But I know anyone who married into the God-Empress’s family took the name Torenz, so maybe I’m Sesskia Aleynten. Something to ask him later—I’ve already ignored him long enough, because his hands are straying away from my back, and as I think I’ve written before, this book isn’t nearly as important as he is.

  3 Shelet

  Finally, all the Balaenic mages know the see-inside pouvra. I was going to start experimenting today, but I’m so exhausted from teaching that I’m going to write this and then sleep.

  4 Shelet

  We’ll be at Barrekel tomorrow, and I’m so nervous I can’t focus on pouvrin. We—Cederic and Mattiak and, ugh, Crossar—have gone over what I need to say to Domenessar, or rather the points I need to touch on, as all of us agree a prepared statement would sound weak and ridiculous. What I need to tell him:

  1. My name and my father’s name. (Obviously. Crossar (ugh) will attest to my identity too.)