Chymmerlee shook her head, moonlight finding glimmers of copper in her dark hair. "Magic helps, but we don't like to use it outside near our home; it looks suspicious if snow heaps everywhere except in one cave-shaped area. We grow some crops inside, too, and keep a few small animals. That sustains us even through long patches of bad weather. It's become rare for anyone but me to leave the caves anymore, except Mennalo, who goes on occasional expeditions to try to find more auras. The more traffic in and out, the more likely someone might discover us; and Pawpaw is worried someone might use magic at the wrong place and time. He trusts my judgment; and he knows that if I don't get some freedom, I'll run away."
Saviar shoved a handful of food into his mouth while Chymmerlee's attention was fully on Subikahn. That might account for the extremeness of Jeremilan's reaction to helping Bearn. It would take extraordinary events to goad such hermits out of hiding. It also explained the apparent lack of pursuit and the mages' ignorance of the world in general.
Subikahn nodded thoughtfully. "In the morning, you need to go back to your people."
"No." The single word, unaccompanied by emotion, hung in the night air.
"No?" Subikahn repeated. "Why not?"
"Because we're not far enough yet. You're not safe from their magic."
The explanation made sense to Saviar, though it also made him uneasy. If the mages could still present clear danger a day's quick walk distant, what kinds of spells might Bearn's enemies harbor?
Subikahn frowned. "You're lying."
Saviar jerked his head to his brother. "That's not nice."
"No," Subikahn admitted, not backing down. "But it's true. If the mages could work dangerous magic from this far away, they wouldn't worry about losing men to the war."
Chymmerlee sighed, rose, and walked a few paces away. "You're right. I'm lying."
"Why?" Subikahn demanded.
"Because I didn't want to fight with you about… staying with you."
"No!" Saviar said, no longer caring that he had food in his mouth, a bit of which flew out with the shout. He paused to swallow. "I promised I would send you back."
Chymmerlee shook her head. "No, you didn't, Savi. You promised you would release me unharmed. And you've done that." She sat, cross-legged, on a bed she had created from fallen leaves in their absence. "You can't control what I choose to do afterward."
Saviar felt confident he could throw Chymmerlee over one shoulder and carry her back to Myrcide. "Can't I?"
Chymmerlee studied him defiantly. "Nope. Because, if you haul me back, kicking and screaming the entire way, you'll lose a lot of time and put yourself exactly back in the position you were in before you kidnapped me."
"But I didn't kidnap-"
Chymmerlee did not allow Saviar to protest. "And, if you head for Bearn without me, I'll follow." She turned her gaze to Subikahn. "And if you try to lose me, you probably will. Then, I'll get completely lost, alone in the woods. Animals will eat me, and you will have broken your vow."
"Animals aren't going to-" Saviar saw no reason to finish the sentence. They all knew he would never leave her wandering aimlessly. "Your people will think we dishonored our word. They'll come after us."
"Good." Chymmerlee cocked her head. "That's what you want, right? Them to follow us to Bearn?"
Subikahn crouched beside her, biting his lip against a smile.
His twin's loyalty change caught Saviar off guard. "Have you both gone mad? The Myrcidians won't come to help; they'll come to pulverize me." He jabbed a hand toward Subikahn. "And you, too."
"If they come, I'll explain the situation to them," Chymmerlee promised. "That it was all my fault."
Saviar snorted and rolled his eyes. "Before or after they pulverize me?"
"They would find me, first. My aura's much easier to trace. I'll explain it all, and you'll have them where you want them."
Subikahn nodded. He had, apparently, figured out Chymmerlee's plan in advance.
Saviar still saw several flaws, but he doubted explaining them would make a difference. He could not help noticing Chymmerlee's cautious phrasing, "if they come," and "they would find me first". Obviously, she did not expect the mages to pursue them. Her previous explanation about her people's secretiveness and reclusiveness made clear the reason why, though Saviar had his doubts. If a man had stolen his daughter, he would hunt them to the ends of the world; yet he was also a skilled warrior raised by an extraordinarily honorable father. He had no real means to understand the mages' point of view. Only twenty-six of them remained. Perhaps they reasoned it wiser to abandon one than risk ten more or even the entire group. Maybe they trusted Chymmerlee to find her own escape, whenever it might come. She had surely told someone her feelings for Saviar. Given the mages' desperation for new blood, they might even hope she returned impregnated by himself or his brother.
That last thought brought a flush to Saviar's cheeks, and he turned away to hide it. No matter how her people reacted, Chymmerlee had her mind made up. And, if she was anything like their mother, no man could change it.
CHAPTER 40
Timing is everything. In battle, in life, in diplomacy. Everything is timing
The oldest child of King Griff and third-Queen Xoraida, Prince Barrindar stood on the sixth-floor balcony of Bearn Castle and surveyed the city below him in the twilight. His entire world for his sixteen years of life, Bearn had changed so completely in the past few months that he scarcely recognized it. The castle remained the central feature, carved from the very stone of the mountains; but tents and temporary buildings had sprung up all around it, as if overnight. He could still recognize the occasional business and cottage, but the people milling through the streets came in a larger variety of dresses, colors, shapes, and sizes than he ever knew existed.
Barrindar's gaze swept the ocean, where the pirates massed in a swarm of nearly identical ships. From a distance, they looked like enormous birds, their brown triangular sails spilling wind as they remained anchored in tight formation. No worldly ship had gotten through the harbor in more than a fortnight; the pirates owned the open water. Three hundred ships, someone had estimated, with crews of a hundred, more or less. Thirty thousand ferocious pirates massed for nothing but slaughter.
In contrast, the many and varied peoples that had come to Bearn seemed pitifully ragtag. Commanded by at least thirty different generals, it seemed impossible to keep them all simultaneously focused. Many had little or no training; decades had passed with nothing more serious than border skirmishes, feuds, and general rattling of sabers for those outside of Bearn. Many of the alliances, strained in the best of times, might fray or shatter in the fury and chaos of war.
Bearn had grown massively and far too quickly. In addition to the cramped military camps, tent cities had sprung up around the borders in vast semicircles that continued out to Erythane, Frist, and beyond. These housed Bearn's women and children, her elders, the tradesmen with no weapon training or skills who could better serve in professional capacities. Supply lines curved outward in every direction, far beyond the extent of Prince Barrindar's vision.
It occurred to him to wonder how the pirates kept themselves provisioned. Surely, their capture of merchant vessels, their killing of the crews and seizing of property were grossly inadequate to keep their bellies full, especially in the last month when no ships had dared to sail the waters and all trade came overland.
The lethal ocean. The thought raised memories of Prince Arturo's death and a flood of devastating sorrow. Only two months apart in age, the princes had played together since infancy, like twins. No two brothers had ever been closer, and the loss left a hole in Barrindar's heart he doubted anyone could ever fill. He felt alone, lost and betrayed by gods who had stolen his courageous half brother for no logical reason. A man like Prince Arturo, a good-hearted, able person who had seemed to Barrindar the most suitable to take over Bearn's throne, should never die without high purpose.