Page 78 of Valdemar

“However, as the Companions have told us, the gods are limited in what they can do for us. I am very much inclined to believe that. And creating that doorway through which the Companions came—and giving the Companions a mortal shape and form—would have required a tremendous amount of magical energy.” She aimed a gimlet eye at Jonaton. “More than ‘allowable,’ if you will. But. Seeing the future, they knew there was going to be a source of magic heading for exactly the right spot. All they had to do was transform it and use it, then wait for Kordas to ask the right question for the right reasons.”

Jonaton’s mouth gaped a little. “But—but—but—” he stammered. “The people—”

Restil completely understood his mingled fascination and horror. Because if his mother was right, the gods had just allowed those people to die terribly so the Companions could enter the world. He went cold all over. If true—

Isla’s mouth turned down in a frown. “Those people were already dead,” she said.

“You can’t know that!”

“Actually . . . I can,” she replied, in a tone he had never heard from her before. Absolutely authoritative. Brooking no argument. “Since you already have the information—the ‘readings,’ as you call them—I can prove it to you with your own diagram if you insist on seeing it.”

Jonaton’s mouth worked for a moment, but no sound came out. Instead, he finally dropped his eyes, sighed, and murmured, “I’ll take your word for it.”

“If you ever bothered to talk to a priest . . .” she began, then sighed. “Never mind. The point is, the Adept was going to murder those people regardless. Since the gods are held to certain constraints, the gods could not intervene to save them. So why not make their sacrifice mean something? Why not use it to improve the world by putting the Companions into it? Turn a weapon of terrible evil into a force for good?”

Jonaton looked as if he had eaten a raw worm. “If only you knew how much I hated what you are saying even while I agree with you.”

“It’s a decision not unlike some I’ve had to make,” Kordas said softly, his eyes haunted. “I hated what I did, even while I understood it was the only way I could make things better for everyone.”

Isla reached out and laid her hand over one of her husband’s. He clasped it tightly.

The cold feeling had drained out of Restil in the time it had taken his mother to say all that. By the time the Queen had ended the last sentence, Restil had regained his composure.

“Just as we both hate sending Restil north, even with Starbird, because we are potentially sending our son into great evil. But doing so will make things better for everyone, because the faster people come to trust the Heralds and Companions, the quicker it will be to rally the people at need.” The Queen’s voice was steady, but Restil knew she felt as much doubt and pain as the King, if not more.

Then her voice lightened. “Besides, I suspect that Starbird has a number of tricks not even an Adept can guess at. One should never anger a Healer. They know how you are put together, and that makes it easy for them to take you apart.”

There’s the bloodthirsty Mama I know and love so well.

Darshay chuckled in his mind.

So now that his composure was back, he was able to think about other things. Like the fact that he was going to be all alone with Starbird for as long as it took them to reach the border. He tried to remain sober and serious, but inside he was giddy.

So giddy, in fact, that he completely lost track of what Jonaton and his father were saying. All he knew was that when he started paying attention again, Jonaton had dismissed the diagram, and the two were discussing all the things that the hertasi—and probably some of the Tayledras mages—had sent along for him.

“—clever stuff,” Jonaton was saying. “I only wish I had time to study the ‘toys’ more. I’ve mostly concentrated on things we can use to bolster our defenses or that might be useful in sniffing around that Adept without her detecting anything.”

Then he glanced over at Restil. “We’re not taking any of this lightly, lad. But we’re operating with too many unknowns. We don’t even know the scope of what we don’t know. So realistically, all we can do is wait for her to make a move besides sit in her city and brood. I mean, I guess she’s brooding. For all I know she could have decided that we’re too much work, and now she is concentrating on another target altogether. That may be why she forced all the defectors into her army—it’s a good way of getting rid of people who are probably going to make trouble, without just having a wholesale massacre of them.” He frowned again. “She probably used criminals—and for all we know, they were real criminals—and dissenters in that spell-ball of hers. And her people would probably be all right with that. But they would probably balk at the wholesale slaughter of allies, even if they are foreigners.”

Restil wanted to ask, “Is that even likely?” but he knew better. Jonaton had just said he didn’t know, after all. In Restil’s experience, Jonaton hated saying he didn’t know something more than he hated saying he was wrong.

“This tells us we thought too small,” Kordas muttered. “The enemy is now confirmed as an enemy, with lethal intent, but desirous of possessing our city rather than razing it. We know they can craft a major weapon and its launch device, and use a midair Gate to attack from the side. They’re cunning enough to not simply drop it on the Palace, assuming we would have especially sensitive Gate detection above our capital. Now we know they have Gate capability, and that skews every defense we’ve thought of so far. They don’t need to march an army or have a supply line when they have Gates, and we don’t know where a Gate will open.”

“Maybe not now,” Jonaton offered.

“I think it makes the construction of defenses to our north a fresh target,” Restil ventured. “They may see a force gathered there, but it won’t be treated as a threat as long as it’s building them fresh infrastructure to seize.” He felt a little guilty saying it, because that’s what he would do in the enemy’s position. “Once the forts or towers are built, bomb them with a Red Thing and they become empty of opposition and ready to move into. Or send in an overwhelming force by Gate to give their troops some field practice for Haven.”

Isla darted an appraising look at her son. “Disturbingly reasonable.”

Kordas commented, “Parasitic expansion is not unknown in Imperial strategy. Legenfall would no doubt favor it. Knowing his units are limited in experience, he’d want them to train more, rather than use them as a labor force. So, use the enemy to do the work, and eliminate them as an exercise.” He made gestures similar to spellcasting, but Restil knew his father well enough to recognize that these were a byproduct of him moving concepts around in his mind. “Truth be told, we don’t have any Gate detection running. We should. And we should have a perimeter of Gate disruption if we can manage it, but we’ll run out of mages, fast.”

“A ring of Gate disruption,” Jonaton suggested immediately. “Or rather, a dome with a hollow part in the center, so we can still use Gates stabilized by uprights, and the one to the Hawkbrothers, in that inner dome.” He frowned. “We need a way to communicate with the Hawkbrothers, better than flags. Would the Companions have input on that? And we need to know who and what this Adept was before she went missing. Silvermoon did not want to talk about that, but I don’t think he was being covert. He may have had a personal connection to her. In fact, now that I think of it, he took care to never use a name for her at all.”

“Hawkbrothers are secretive,” Restil offered. “Their most common diplomatic answers are, “I’ll look into that,” “No,” and “I won’t tell you.” Can the student mages be shunted over to enchantment? The Gate ring could be made of enchanted objects, for the sake of efficiency. Maybe it’s my own fatigue talking, but every mage will need time to rest. Linked objects could be monitored by fewer mages, and hidden from view.”

Jonaton looked proud for a moment. “The students make the teacher validated,” he replied. “Good thinking, Restil. We needn’t make the objects forever-permanent, either. Let’s say, a quick fabrication meant to last five years, with a limited range, enough to overlap each other in case one goes down. How about placed in a rosette, perhaps two hundred junctions or so? Use river silt bound into concrete for an insulating matrix, a steel pole for grounding. No, iron would do, enough to disturb magnetism, but tunable—”

“Well, I’ll go get my traveling gear together,” Restil said, standing up. Best to leave now while Jonaton had a challenge to solve. He turned to his parents. “I assume I am to wait until you tell Starbird before I talk to her about this?”

Kordas nodded. “That’s probably best.” And as Restil found himself erupting in an unexpected yawn, added, “You probably shouldn’t be doing anything before you get some sleep, anyway. I want you here after breakfast. Ardatha has told Starbird the same. We’ll go over what plans we can before the morning Council meeting.”

Restil yawned again, and all the energy that Jonaton’s revelation had given him drained out of him so suddenly he almost staggered. “Yes, sir,” he replied obediently. Then added, “If she’s going to have to put her traveling kit together tomorrow, there’s no hurry to see to mine, is there?”

“I shouldn’t think so,” the King said.

“Then if you don’t mind . . . I think I’ll sleep in my old room.”

His father’s serious face was almost—almost—turned to a smile, as the King nodded his permission. Isla’s openly smiled.

Restil staggered off to his room, which looked extra inviting right now—and just about got his uniform off before falling into bed. The last thing he knew was hearing his boots hit the floor as he dropped off to sleep.