Robert Asprin - Wartorn - Resurrection

She had passed through a portal when Lord Matokin dispatched her from Felk. She had experienced this before. She followed the instructions she had been given, keeping her eyes ahead and carefully walking a perfectly straight line. Ahead, she could just make out the second portal, which appeared as another ripple.

Despite the cautions, she couldn't help but let her eyes stray a bit. At the Academy, she had never learned anything about the nature of portal magic. It simply wasn't part of the curriculum to explain the underlying principles of the arts. Instructors only showed the students how to perform feats. Knowing how something was done was different from being privy to the technique that allowed one to do something.

But the Academy, which Matokin had founded, was interested only in producing functional magicians. Nothing else mattered. Raven, as she neared the second portal, allowed herself to silently question the wisdom of that.

As disorienting as this place was, there was something that was even more disturbing about it. Raven's steps slowed involuntarily. She looked slowly around. Something, she was almost certain, was watching her!

Her heart was beating fast. She peered into the eerie, misty surroundings, expecting at any instant to see eyes staring back at her. She realized she had stopped walking. That was a mistake. She wasn't supposed to dally.

The sense of being observed only got stronger. Panic was trying to overtake her, but she wouldn't let it. Her ears suddenly pricked up. She thought she heard something, but it was as distorted as everything else here.

Her head whipped around, trying to pin the source. Every impulse told her to get moving, to make for the exit portal. This was dangerous. Back at the Academy, the students told stories to each other about how some people disappeared when they stepped into a portal, never coming out the far side.

The sounds were growing closer, it seemed. It sounded like ... like ... voices. A whole horde of voices. Closing in around her.

She turned suddenly and hurled herself toward the second portal, hands outstretched, a cry of fear just behind her lips. She expected a thousand hands to seize her before she reached it.

Instead, she broke through into a clearing in the woods. There were trees, sunlight, solid ground, all the comforts of reality that she had always taken for granted. Panting, she staggered, nearly collapsing to the ground.

Hands did catch her now, and for a moment she felt true terror, but she shook it off. She straightened both herself and her new clothes. A wizard in a robe was peering at her.

"Had a bad journey?" he asked.

She blinked back at him.

"It happens sometimes," he said philosophically, shrugging. "What was it—voices, or did you actually see something?"

Another mage stood with him, no doubt the Far Speak wizard who helped coordinate the portal opening. A small party of soldiers sat around a cooking fire, one or two of them eyeing Raven curiously, but none coming forward.

"See something?" Raven asked.

The Far Movement mage shrugged. "It happens. Strange shapes, sounds."

"I... thought I heard voices," she admitted.

"Maybe you did," the Far Speak mage said, sounding just as casual about it.

"Who knows what goes on in that other place?" the first mage continued. "Most of the time, you walk through a portal, ten steps, and you've crossed a huge distance. No problems. Sometimes, though, you'll hear or see something. We're not supposed to talk about it, of course. Don't want to scare the troops." He glanced sourly at the soldiers by the fire. "Scary, wasn't it?"

"I'm perfectly all right," Raven said, a bit icily.

The Far Speak wizard was now ogling her. "I don't suppose you're here to entertain us, are you? It's lonely being a scout."

Raven sighed, disgustedly. If this was what being attractive did for a woman, maybe Weisel hadn't done her a favor by having her made over.

"I am General Weisel's personal liaison to the magic-using units of this army," she said, proudly announcing her new title for the first time. Weisel had appointed her to the post last night. The soldiers all looked her way now.

The Far Movement mage shrugged again. It seemed to be a habitual gesture. "What does that mean exactly?" he asked.

"It means this army is dangerously divided. Magic-users and non-magic-using troops are indulging in a useless bigotry that will only undermine our glorious cause. I have been appointed by the general himself to act as an intermediary, a first step toward repairing an ancient, stupid prejudice. I expect the full cooperation of every person in this army."

She spoke with impressive authority. She felt, at that moment, that she radiated the air of the officer she now was.

The ranking soldier stood and approached. "Do you have orders to back that up?" She asked it neutrally, careful not to make it a challenge.

Raven produced the document Weisel had drawn up. The mages and the soldier all studied it.

The soldier saluted. "How can we serve you?"

Raven liked the reaction. "I have orders for this squad. And for the other scouting parties that have been sent ahead to observe Trael's defenses."

The soldier snorted. "Defenses? They've got maybe a few dozen troops. This place'll rumble easier than U'delph did."

"The general has heard your reports," Raven said. She turned her eyes on the mages. "He has decided to use the portals."

The Far Movement mage nodded this time, instead of shrugging. "We've been waiting for that order,"

he said.

"But why didn't the general just relay it?" asked the Far Speak wizard. "Why send you?"

"Because General Weisel isn't planning to Far Move the army," Raven said.

"Then... what does he want to use the portals for?" The Far Movement mage suddenly looked uneasy.

Raven explained the plan in the simple terms that Weisel had spelled out. By now the rest of the soldiers had gathered around, listening intently. One or two gasped as she spoke.

"That's ... risky," said one mage.

"That's not how die magic is meant to be used," said the other.

Raven alone kept her composure. "Those are the general's orders. He guessed there might be some reluctance, which is why he sent me. I will be visiting the three other scouting parties. You will all take up new positions just on the outskirts of Trael. When you've received the signal through your Far Speak mage, you will obey those orders. Any questions?"

They had none.

Raven ordered the mages to arrange her transport to the next scout camp. She hid her uneasiness about passing through the portals again so soon after that last disquieting episode. She could still hear those voices, in her head.

But she squashed her fear, and stepped through when the portal opened. Loyalty could serve as well as bravery.

HE LOOKED AWAY from the naked backs that the soldiers were methodically flogging. The sounds of hide whips impacting flesh and bone, and the attending cries for mercy and shrieks of agony, echoed across the plaza even as his eyes furtively roved the crowd. Bryck was vaguely repelled by the violence of the punishments being meted out; but these were, after all, only whippings. No one was being butchered. Acts of inhumanity were inevitably measured against the annihilation of Udelph. That was his standard.

Nonetheless, it was difficult not to feel a little pity.

The turnout was sizable, though attendance wasn't mandatory. Everybody liked a show though, Bryck thought with a callous cynicism that would have once shocked him. In bygone days when he was a husband, father, noble, playwright, he had somehow always managed to see the better side of people.

No. No point in taking a revisionist view of his past. He had almost always been able to find the comical side—of people, of events. But humor had such amazing scope. Humor had the capacity to contain horror, sadness, murder, epic tragedy. Some of his most beloved theatricals embraced such subjects but did so in that special way that permitted laughter. That had been his gift.