The Unconquered Mage Page 22

  “Cederic, if we don’t have these forces, the former Empress will likely destroy us,” I said, “and then it won’t matter. You know you’d risk yourself if our positions were reversed.”

  He sighed. “I know,” he said, kissing me. “You should go immediately, so they will have no time to react.”

  “Then have someone find Jeddan, and I’ll get changed,” I said, because I’d rested while still wearing my Imperial clothes. Cederic came with me to help me dress, possibly because you need help getting out of the Imperial garb, but more likely because he wanted to keep me near him as long as possible. That made me feel guilty and sad, because I don’t like hurting him and I know how devastated he is when something happens to me. But one of the things I love most about him is how he never stops me doing what we know is right, no matter how dangerous it is. I couldn’t stay married to him if he tried to protect me by never letting me do anything.

  When I was dressed—that took a while, because there was kissing, and hugging, and quiet endearments—we went back to the command tent, where Jeddan was waiting. I squeezed Cederic’s hand once more, and then Jeddan and I set off for the far side of Barrekel, and the Black and Brown Armies.

  I never have found out why they name the divisions of the army after colors. There’s no White Army, of course—that’s the name given to Nessan’s elite forces, the color of death—and the army at Durran is just called the Northern Army, but I’d think they would run out of colors that sound strong and defiant. There’s certainly no Pink Army.

  Anyway, the Black Army is under the command of General Roebart Gradden, and the Brown Army is commanded by General Soessen Ellert. We approached the Black Army because, as Mattiak said, General Gradden knew my Dad well, and would probably be the most responsive to my claim to be his daughter. It was a long walk to their headquarters, and we couldn’t take horses—that reminds me I never did find out what happened to Thistle when we left Dessani Manor. I’m surprised to discover I’m worried about her. I hope I’m not going soft.

  We had to walk, and it was full dark when we reached the outer perimeter. I could tell the soldiers had no idea fighting was imminent, and I could also tell they were used to perimeter duty being boring, because I think we could have sneaked past them without concealing ourselves. Not that we were that bold. No point taking unnecessary risks.

  Jeddan and I held hands so we wouldn’t get separated, and made our way almost-invisibly through the camp. It’s permanent, not a collection of tents, and the people definitely had the look that says they don’t expect to have to move anytime soon. There are actual roads between the buildings, and a lot of women who clearly live there, probably wives rather than camp followers, and even children running around, ignoring their mothers’ cries for them to come to bed. It made me sick to think Drussik wanted us to attack them unawares.

  It took us a while to find the center of camp, but the command center was obvious by how well lit it was and how much activity was going on there. The rest of the camp might be oblivious, but it sure looked as if Domenessar had sent General Gradden some very upsetting orders. Jeddan and I found a quiet corner still within sight of the command building and had a whispered discussion.

  “I think if I go in there with you, I’ll look like a threat,” Jeddan said. “On the other hand, the Emperor will kill me if I let you get injured because I wasn’t there.”

  “Then you’ll have to be invisible,” I said. “Go in through the back wall when I come in the front, so they’ll be distracted and won’t be looking your way.”

  “If someone sees through the concealment pouvra, it’s going to look like treachery,” Jeddan said. “But I think it’s the best plan we can manage.”

  “Be careful,” I said. I tried to watch him walk away and only succeeded in making my eyes water. I counted to ten to give him time to get into place, then dropped concealment and walked casually toward the door of the command building.

  The sentries saw me, but didn’t do anything at first. They probably thought I was somebody’s wife. Then, when it was clear I was headed for them, they came alert and brought their weapons up (swords but no shields). “What do you want?” one of them asked.

  “I have a message for General Gradden,” I said.

  “Message from who?” the other one said.

  “It’s a private message, and it won’t take me long to deliver it,” I said. This was the trickiest part of the plan, convincing the sentries to let me in, and I prayed I wouldn’t have to work the pouvrin on them, or run away and circle back around to enter the building through the wall.

  “You think you can just walk up and see the General?” the first soldier said.

  “No, but I think you,” I said, pointing at him, “can walk in there and ask if General Gradden will take a message from his old friend Mattiak.”

  “Who?” he said. I suppressed a sigh. Of course I had to deal with a stupid soldier.

  “Mattiak,” the other soldier said, as if he were trying to remember the name. I waited. Finally, the second soldier said, “Old friend?”

  “All you have to do is tell him he has a message from Mattiak,” I said, “and if he doesn’t want it, I’ll leave.”

  “I don’t get it,” the first soldier said.

  “Because you’re an idiot,” the second soldier said. “Wait here,” he told me, and disappeared inside. I smiled politely at the first soldier, who continued to frown at me in puzzlement. The hum of noise from within, the sound of a few people talking, got louder. Then several men left the building, and the soldier returned and said, “General Gradden wants to speak to you.”

  I went inside and down a short hall to the only open door, through which bright lamplight shone. The only person in that room was a man wearing uniform trousers and a white shirt. He had faded red hair and looked to be about sixty years old. “Why is a woman tossing Mattiak Tarallan’s name around like she owns it?” he said, glowering at me.

  “General Gradden, Mattiak sends his regards and asks you to listen to what I have to say,” I said. “Could we sit down?”

  “How did you get into this camp?” he said, not moving.

  “That’s not important now,” I said. “Please, General. Just give me five minutes.”

  Gradden stared at me for a few seconds, then waved me at a seat and pulled another chair around to face me. “I’m listening,” he said, in a tone that indicated he wouldn’t be listening for long.

  I took a deep breath and prayed one last time he would listen. “General, my name is Sesskia Daressar, and I am the Empress-Consort of Balaen and Castavir.”

  His eyes went wide. “You—what kind of claim is that? Sesskia Daressar died twenty-six years ago with Alenik!”

  “Caelan Crossar smuggled my family out of Venetry when my father’s attempt to take the throne was betrayed,” I said, wishing I could tell him what other part Crossar had had in that fiasco. “I grew up in Thalessa. My father was killed nineteen years ago. My sister Roda and I are all that’s left of the Daressars.”

  “You’re lying,” he said. “And what’s this nonsense about Empress? Is Mattiak out of his mind?”

  “He supports my husband and me in our claim to the throne,” I said.

  “Then he knows we’ve been ordered to be prepared for an attack,” Gradden said.

  “Yes,” I said. “I’m here to see if we can’t come to a different arrangement.”

  “You want me to betray Lord Domenessar,” he said.

  “I want you to fight for the rightful rulers of this country,” I said. “You know the Lords Governor don’t want to follow Domenessar because they’re afraid to give him that much power. You know they’ll follow me because a Daressar heir on the throne is preferable to the alternative. If you continue to lead your troops in Domenessar’s name, you will lead this country to chaos.”

  “You can’t prove what you claim,” Gradden said. He sounded shaky.

  “Mattiak says you served my father when he was Lord Governor
of Hasskian,” I said. “That you were good friends. You must have known his wife. General, you may not believe I’m Alenik Daressar’s daughter.” I took another deep breath. “But you can’t look at me and not see Cessily Daressar’s face.”

  Gradden’s gaze swept me from my head to my feet, then settled on my face. His belligerence slipped away, replaced by astonishment. “True God help me, you look just like her,” he said quietly. “What—where is she?”

  “She died ten years ago,” I said, just as quietly.

  To my shock, tears came to his eyes. “Poor Cessily,” he said. “I can’t believe your family survived. Everyone thought the King had had you killed.”

  “I grew up not knowing the truth,” I said. “Just that my Dad was a good and honorable man. I want to honor his legacy. I think Cederic and I will rule this country justly. Please, General, help us do that.”

  Gradden stood up and began to pace the tent. I hoped Jeddan was well out of his way. “Alenik Daressar,” he muttered. “Mattiak Tarallan. Your husband is a foreigner?” he said to me.

  “He’s Castaviran,” I said. “Those people you were fighting last fall? Their country is called Castavir. Magic brought our countries, our worlds, together, and I know you probably think of magic as evil or frightening—”

  “My son was a sorcerer,” Gradden said. “He left home twenty years ago because he couldn’t keep it hidden. It didn’t matter to us. He would never have hurt anyone, but he could make fire—it’s all about what you choose to do with it, I think. How could magic make another country appear like this?”

  “It’s…complicated,” I said, “and something I can explain to you when we have plenty of time. But it sounds like we don’t have much time now. Though…your camp doesn’t look much like it’s preparing to go to war.”

  “I’m reluctant to follow the orders I’ve been given,” Gradden said. “Those are our comrades over there, and Lord Domenessar has no idea of the tactical situation. He may be our ultimate commander, but he’s no soldier. I don’t want to disobey orders, but I also don’t want to follow orders that will result in mass destruction.”

  “Then come to our side,” I said. “Mattiak needs you. The Castaviran Army is huge and we don’t stand a chance without more troops. Right now, you’re fighting for Domenessar’s glory. You’re the Balaenic Army. You ought to be fighting for your country. For what it can become.”

  Gradden sighed. “You’ve got your father’s silver tongue to go with your mother’s lovely face,” he said. “I’ll send for Soessen and we’ll convince him together. I wish we could meet with Mattiak. It’s not going to be easy, leaving Barrekel—I presume that’s what you want?”

  “We have to go to Teliarne—that’s the city you were fighting—for the troops headquartered there,” I said, “and then…actually I don’t know what happens next, because I don’t understand military strategy very well. But yes, you’re going to have to break camp. I know that will be hard.”

  “This is the military. Hard is our specialty,” Gradden said. “Excuse me.”

  He left the room, and I said, “Jeddan.”

  Jeddan became visible, crouched in a corner. “That’s uncomfortable,” he said, standing and stretching. “I’m glad I found the right room.”

  “Will you go tell Mattiak what’s happened? And ask him to come here? I’ll make sure the sentries let him through,” I said.

  “Just Mattiak? Not the Emperor?” he said.

  “Uh…better not have both of us here at the same time, just in case,” I said. “But tell him I’m safe and I’ll be back soon.”

  Jeddan nodded and vanished again. I waited a while longer, impatiently, until Gradden finally came back. “General, I’ve sent for Mattiak, but you should probably tell your sentries to let him through,” I said.

  “How could you send for him?” Gradden said.

  “Um…magic, actually,” I said, which was close to the truth. “But you did say you wished you could strategize with him.”

  “This is a night of wonders,” Gradden said, shaking his head. “Soessen will be here soon. I didn’t tell him anything but that I wanted to talk. He’ll be harder to convince, but that’s balanced against how he’s even more reluctant to go to war against our own people than I am.”

  “Thank you for being reasonable, General,” I said.

  “Lady Daressar, I don’t think you understand how the men and women of my generation felt about your father,” he said. “There were a lot of people who wanted him to be King and were devastated when he disappeared. They’ll follow you in his name, if you’re even halfway competent as a leader.”

  “I hope I am,” I said, feeling very nervous. “General…could you tell me about him? He died when I was nine, and…I wish I’d known him better.”

  So the General and I talked about Dad, and I cried a few tears, but he didn’t hold it against me. Then Mattiak arrived—I didn’t know how he managed to get there before General Ellert, but then Ellert came in and he looked so ill I was amazed he was out of bed. Mattiak and Gradden didn’t seem put off by it, as if this were something they’d expected, and I pieced together the explanation that Ellert deals with stress by developing severe intestinal trouble, and he was under a lot of stress just then.

  Convincing Ellert went faster than I’d been led to believe by Gradden, mainly because Mattiak was there and Ellert really wanted to be convinced. I think he might not totally believe I’m who I say I am, but as long as he leads the Brown Army into battle behind our standard, he doesn’t have to.

  Once we had them both convinced, I excused myself, because I was so tired by that time—working that fire pouvra and then the concealment pouvra had drained me. I walked back through the camp and didn’t bother to conceal myself even when I passed the perimeter sentries; even in my exhausted state it was easy to avoid them. Then I kept walking until I reached our camp, and I had enough sense to go to the command tent where Cederic would be rather than to our tent, so he could stop worrying. He took me to our tent and helped me get undressed and into bed, then snuggled up next to me so I fell asleep in his arms, which is my favorite way to fall asleep.

  When I woke up, he was gone, and I still felt weary enough I didn’t want to get up. So I wrote this for a while, until someone brought me breakfast—is it bad that I’m getting used to the benefits of being Empress-Consort?—and then I wrote the rest. And I’m still astonished it all worked. That is, I assume it worked, and there weren’t any setbacks, and nobody changed his mind and went crawling back to Domenessar. But if that had happened, I doubt my morning would have been so peaceful. So I’m going to assume for once, everything worked out fine.

  Chapter Eighteen

  6 Shelet, evening

  I’m grateful, right now, to have this book, because I need to write all this out. It’s funny—before I got out my pencil I read back over the other books, just a few of the entries, and I never realized how much I was defining myself by what I worked out in these pages. Cederic thinks I have a generous heart, but right now I feel vindictive and cruel and I hate those feelings but I can’t set them aside. Crossar betrayed my family and he might as well have murdered my parents and Bridie. And now that I have the power to destroy him, I want to see him suffer. I want him to know what it’s like to lose everything. It would be justice, I think. But I don’t know who I’d become if I went through with it.

  It was after dinner. Cederic and I ate alone in our tent, which we do more frequently now. I think both of us feel the need for privacy after spending the day being public figures. Cederic was very quiet, but I didn’t feel much like talking either, so I didn’t think anything was wrong.

  Today was long, and full of discussions and messengers going back and forth between the armies and between the Barrekellian forces and the city. I don’t know what Gradden told Domenessar about why he hadn’t followed orders—possibly that they needed time to break camp. True God knows what Domenessar thought of the Balaenic Army not moving either. I gues
s they’re still working out the logistics of combining the divisions.

  It was fun to imagine Domenessar getting more and more furious, and wonder when that fury was going to turn into apprehension and then fear. But it’s not as if he had the forces to do anything about it. I’m happy, because having to give him a quarter of the Empire would have been disastrous, worse than giving Crossar Venetry. If that’s what happens.

  Anyway, Cederic was quiet, and it wasn’t until the meal was nearly over that he said, “Sesskia,” in a way that told me he was gearing up for an unpleasant conversation. I felt my meal begin to roil in my stomach. “Sesskia,” he repeated, “there is something we should discuss.”

  “What is it?” I said, holding on to my calm demeanor.

  He looked away from me. “It is about our promise to Caelan Crossar,” he said.

  Now I felt really sick, because I hated thinking about that. “He did what he said he would,” I said. “We can’t go back on our word.”

  He shook his head. “The agreement was that he would deliver us Arron Domenessar,” he said. “He failed to do that.”

  “But,” I said in surprise, “we have the troops. He brought us support.”

  “Sesskia,” he said, “what I am telling you is we are not technically bound by that promise. I told him what the terms of our agreement were and he did not keep his side of the bargain.”

  I opened my mouth to protest and then it hit me. We didn’t have to keep that promise. We didn’t have to give Crossar power. I wouldn’t have to see my family’s betrayer elevated to the rank my father had tried to secure. I grinned. “I like that,” I said. “Can I tell him?”

  Cederic didn’t smile. “I said ‘technically,’” he said. “But it is dishonorable. The spirit of our agreement has not been broken. We should not take advantage of this.”

  I clenched my fist under the table. “He’ll be a terrible ruler,” I said. “He’ll use his power to benefit himself and he might even challenge you someday. We can’t afford to let him have it.”