“Let me.” Shiv spread his hands and the earth, hard packed by a full year and more of rain and sun, crumbled into fresh-turned tilth, flowing up and over the tumbled corpse. It jerked and twitched with a nauseating parody of life as the soil shifted beneath it and soon disappeared from view.
Sorgrad muttered something sounding vaguely liturgical in Mountain speech too archaic for me to understand.
Untroubled, ’Gren gazed down into the pit. “The Maker can hold his bones until the Mother takes back his spirit.” He used the same terms as the Elietimm had.
“Misaen and Maewelin?” I guessed. Those two gods had been sufficient for the ancient Mountain Men and even these days, the uplands paid scant respect to the rest of the pantheon.
Shiv drew a deep breath and continued to concentrate on the pit. The soil sank down, smoothing itself to the sides of the hole, soon as compact as if it had never been disturbed.
“Nicely done, Shiv,” Ryshad approved from the far side of this new grave. “Now let’s go and steal a boat.”
Suthyfer, Sentry Island,
3rd of For-Summer
Halice came striding across the beach, the early sun throwing a long shadow behind her. “You’re not scrying, are you?” She looked into the pool left shining among the scoured slabs of rock by the retreating sea.
“No,” Usara assured her. He dusted sand off his hands. “Though Guinalle thinks working with a natural pool would make it harder for the Elietimm enchanters to find me.”
Halice looked uncertain. “I thought you needed antique silver bowls and priceless inks.”
“Hedge wizards and charlatans can’t work without them,” Usara told her with some amusement. “And granted, ink or oil makes it easier but I can scry in anything.”
Halice looked at Guinalle who was swathed in a soft grey cloak against the dawn chill. “Have you any Artifice to show you how they’re getting on?”
“I think it best to let well alone,” Guinalle said without emotion. “Shiv was taking them to a place well outside Ilkehan’s domains. If some mischance shows these enchanters my interest there, that could just give him reason to go looking.”
“It’s not worth the risk,” said Usara firmly. “For anyone.”
“You didn’t feel any hint of that Ilkehan noticing them arriving?” Halice looked out at the placid ocean barely troubled by so much as a rippling wave, gilded by the sun huge and orange on the horizon. The tide had washed away most of the evidence of the slaughters.
“Not a suspicion.” Guinalle looked north and east to the unseen Ice Islands as well.
“His kind suspect everyone and everything, every waking moment,” Halice said sourly. “That’s how they avoid knives in the back.”
“They’ve got Shiv,” Usara pointed out. “He can bespeak wizards from here to Hadrumal if they fall foul of Ilkehan’s malice.”
“Which could leave him no better than a drooling idiot.” Halice put her hands on her hips.
“Not if he’s careful, and he will be,” insisted Usara. “And now we’ve worked together, it need only be me, Larissa and Allin bringing them back. We don’t even need Shiv in the nexus.”
“Ilkehan won’t be able to touch mages at this distance, not with Artifice warding them,” Guinalle added.
“As long as he doesn’t somehow rope in those adepts of his to help.” Halice scowled at the central islands of Suthyfer secretive across the dark blue waters.
“The best way we can keep Ilkehan from realising he has enemies close at hand is to keep his attention turned to his people’s fight here.” Usara nodded at Guinalle. “We’ve been discussing how best to do that. Do you fancy working a little magic, Halice?”
“Me?” The mercenary was startled.
“You can hold a tune can’t you?” Usara asked innocently. “Sing a marching pace or a rope song along with a ship’s crew?”
Guinalle had a book in one hand, her fingers pale against the age-darkened patina of ancient leather. Whatever gold leaf had once illuminated the spine was worn to an indecipherable shadow. “The Artifice in these songs is ancient but none the less effective for that.”
“What are you thinking of doing?” Halice was intrigued, despite herself.
“The pirates have one sailing ship left. It’s only a single-masted sloop but it could make a break for the open sea,” the noblewoman replied composedly. “We’re discussing how we might discourage it.”
Halice looked out to sea again. “The Eryngo, Nenuphar and Asterias have closed off escape to the south. We’ve the other three ships keeping watch up here.”
Usara raised his eyebrows. “Wouldn’t six ships north and south be better? Maybe nine?”
Halice folded her arms, head on one side. “How?”
Usara’s grin widened. “Aetheric illusion.”
“I’m certain the jalquezan in the ballad of Garidar and his hundred sheep creates mirror images to baffle an enemy.” Even Guinalle, tired as she was, couldn’t restrain a smile.
Halice nodded but frowned an instant later. “There’s no chance these enchanters are making fools of us with some Artifice masquerade? Showing you what you want to see while Muredarch’s lads come sneaking up the strait?”
“No chance at all.” Guinalle shook her head. “That’s one advantage aetheric far-seeing has over scrying.”
“You’re sure?” Halice plainly wasn’t. A new thought occurred to her. “If you could see through any illusion they wrought, why won’t they just see straight through this trick?”
Guinalle looked affronted. “Because I can ensure that they don’t.”
Usara stepped in. “Halice, please allow we’re as competent in our duties as you are in yours.”
“Of course.” A rueful smile lightened the mercenary’s severe expression and she bowed with mock solemnity. “I beg your pardon, both you and your lady mages. So, how will this work?”
Guinalle held the book up. “We convince one man on every ship that this will defend them and then he can lead the rest in singing it as they work.”
“Then you want the boatswains. They love their ships better than their mistresses.” Halice stretched out her well-muscled arms before easing her broad shoulders with a grimace. “Very well, we’ll have mystical ships as well as wooden ones to blockade these wharf rats. The next thing we need to make is a plan for attacking their hole.”
Usara was watching Guinalle who had paled. “We need to be ready to act as soon as Ilkehan dies,” he said gently.
“I wish I knew how long it’ll take them.” Halice was looking out to sea again. “The sooner we can attack, the less time Muredarch’s mob have to dig themselves in. On the other hand, the more we can drill Temar’s haymakers and Sorgrad’s dock-sweepings, the more chance we’ll have something approaching a corps. Well, that’s something I can make a start on. Let me know what your far-seeing shows you.”
Mage and noblewoman watched Halice walk away across the beach, kicking sleeping feet, pulling resentful blankets away from blinking faces aghast once they realised how early it was. “All of you, boots on. Let’s see if you’re as good with those weapons as you are with your boasts. As soon as we get the word, I’ll want you going through those pirates like scald through a cheap whorehouse!”
Usara smiled before turning serious once more. “Shall we ask the Maelstrom’s master when the best time to contact the other ships might be?”
Guinalle didn’t reply and when the mage looked to see why, he saw desolation in her eyes. He held out an impulsive hand but she affected not to see it, hugging the ancient songbook close to her breast like a talisman. Usara looked away, tucking his hands through the braided leather strap he wore buckled around his waist. He hesitated before continuing with studied casualness. “You said something about finding a way to knock the wits out of those enchanters?”
Guinalle closed her eyes before replying with determined composure. “The question is, which wits should I harass first?”