Mercedes Lackey - To Light A Candle

“You would speak,” Redhelwar observed.

“I would,” Kellen agreed. “You know it has long been in my mind that this campaign has been Their attempt to keep us from seeing what needs to be seen.”

“And it is now in your mind that while we dally here, They strike first at Armethalieh,” Redhelwar said.

“Not dally,” Kellen said. “And not strike. I believe—I believe that this is a very different sort of warfare than They have ever practiced before. The Mage-born, I believe, remember Them , and fear Them , though they keep the fact a closely-guarded secret. I do not believe that a foothold could be taken by force. But… by seduction. As one of Them tried to seduce me at the Black Cairn. If it had worked—if I had believed Its lies—perhaps I would now be the agent you were all searching for in Armethalieh.”

“No,” Redhelwar said somberly, “for we would all be dead of drought and wildfire. But should Armethalieh fight for the Darkness instead of the Light… Go with Idalia, Kellen. See what Knight-Magery and High Magick can do to assist her.”

Kellen bowed again and left, taking Cilarnen with him.

—«♦»—

THEY caught up to the other Wildmages at the edge of the Mountainfolk camp.

“Redhelwar sent us to see what we could do to help,” Kellen explained. “I can’t think of a thing I can do,” he added, shrugging.

“Not until we have some idea of what we’re going to do,” Idalia agreed. She turned her attention to Cilarnen.

“I know there are wards, but I’ve never worked on them,” he said. “So I have no idea of how to get past them. The little ones, for things like keeping mice out of grain—I’ve helped with those.”

“What about distance-seeing spells?” Idalia asked.

Cilarnen looked perfectly blank.

Why, Idalia, how could you ever imagine that any of the Mageborn would ever want to see anything that happened outside the City? Kellen thought mockingly. If such spells existed in the arsenal of the High Magick, they were undoubtedly restricted to the higher ranks of the Mageborn. Cilarnen wouldn’t have begun to learn them for years—decades.

“Well, we’ll get started. I want to try a few things—and have Jermayan and Ancaladar try them, too. Atroist and some of the Lost Lands Wildmages have arrived, and they know a number of ways of doing things I’m not familiar with. But I don’t think we’ll need your help yet. Join us here for dinner and I’ll let you know how far we’ve gotten. Bring wine.”

Kellen laughed shortly at the morose tone of Idalia’s voice.

“Wine it is,” he said. “Come on, Cilarnen, we’ll go up to the Unicorn Camp and catch them up on the gossip. Shalkan will pin my ears back if I don’t.”

—«♦»—

THEY stopped first at the dining tent to collect a cold lunch and some treats for the horses, and soon were riding up to the Unicorn Camp. Anganil behaved himself far better on this journey than he had on the last.

“So we don’t have anything to do for the rest of the day?” Cilarnen asked.

“You may not,” Kellen said. “When we get back, I’m going to see if the practice field is free. If it is, I’ll take my troop out for a couple of hours of drill. You should see Artenel about getting some armor fitted—you may not be able to use a sword, but you’ll still need armor.”

“I can use a sword!” Cilarnen protested. “Master Kalos said I would have made a fine swordsman—I studied with him thrice a sennight.”

“Reed-blade,” Kellen said, struggling to keep his voice neutral. Cilarnen was right to be proud of his skill, but it was useless in war. “It is not the sort of sword we carry in the field.”

“You think it’s useless,” Cilarnen said, stung.

“Pay attention to your mount. I did not say that. I have never studied reed-blade. The quickness and coordination: those skills will probably transfer to another weapon if you wish to learn one. But the swords we use take a great deal of strength, and learning any weapon takes time, and you are a Mage, not a Knight.”

“You’re both,” Cilarnen pointed out. “And I’m not much of a Mage.”

Leaf and Star, send me a Selken Trader! Kellen kept his voice patient. “I’m a particular kind of Wildmage, called a Knight-Mage. I’m very good at fighting, not as good at Wildmagery.”

“It’s nice to know there’s something you’re not good at,” Cilarnen muttered.

Kellen wondered if Cilarnen had meant him to hear the remark. It was odd to think that Cilarnen must be just as off-balance and resentful as he was, now that their situations were reversed. Here, Kellen must seem to have all the advantages Cilarnen had once possessed, plus a higher rank than Cilarnen had ever held.

Well, the truth wouldn’t hurt. “At the moment, you’re the best High Mage in a thousand leagues. You are our only expert in High Magery. And as for Mage-craft, who knows what the future may hold?”

“You can’t believe the City would ever take me back?” Cilarnen said in disbelief.

“I believe I do not know—and neither do you,” Kellen said firmly. “If there is one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you should be very careful how you use the words ‘never’ and ‘forever,’ because you might have to eat them one day.”

They reached the Unicorn Camp. In the distance, beyond the camp, Kellen could see plumes of snow arcing from the ground, as the remaining Unicorn Knights engaged in elaborate war games.

“They’re practicing,” Kellen said. “Let’s go watch.”

—«♦»—

BEFORE he’d gotten his own command, he’d participated in a few of these games, but even a Knight-Mage’s skill couldn’t quite make up for years of practice, and he still hadn’t entirely mastered the long Elven lance.

Both teams were armed with the lance. The object of the game was a small leather ring, to be picked up on the lance point, carried off, and defended.

There were, as far as Kellen could tell, no other rules.

He and Cilarnen stood well back from the edge of the field as the unicorns darted in and out among each other, springing like deer, as their riders vied strenuously for possession of the mostly-invisible object. Occasionally one unicorn would leap right over another, and woe to the rider who didn’t duck in time.

“They ride them?” Cilarnen asked, sounding surprised.

“By mutual consent,” Kellen said.

“Why are they all the way out here?” Cilarnen asked.

Kellen suspected the direction this conversation was going to go, but he really had no choice. There were things Cilarnen needed to know, and if he found out things Kellen would rather he didn’t know in addition, well, that was a part of paying his price.

“Unicorns are creatures of magic. Magic has limitations as well as advantages. What did they teach you about unicorns in Armethalieh?”

Cilarnen frowned. “Their horn is proof against poison. That they share the nature of both the goat and the lion. And only virgins can tame them.”

“Their horns purify just about anything. Their ‘nature’ is their own, and no one can actually ‘tame’ a unicorn. But only virgins can be around them,” Kellen corrected. “Virgin meaning someone who is both chaste and celibate—and they can definitely tell.”

“So that’s why they’re all this way from the rest of the camp?” Cilarnen said, accepting Kellen’s explanation without a blink.

“That’s right.”

“Come to tell us what’s going on?” Shalkan asked before Cilarnen could come up with any more questions. “Or is the game more interesting?”

“Oh, I’m sure they’ve come for a quiet chat,” Gesade said.