"We…" He shook his head. "Th' men are… troubled by wha' happened t'day, Capt'n. They wasn't happy abou' goin' t' war alongside th' Mettai, bu' they knew tha' we'd be better off with a bit o' magic on our side. Bu' this…" He shook his head. "Killin' white-hairs is one thing. Don' ge' me wrong. None of us has any problem with that. Bu' killin' them while they sleep? What are we doin', Capt'n?"
Before she could answer, Crow said, "There's some who are sayin' now tha' they'd rather face th' Fal'Borna with no magic at all than use any more o' this blood magic."
"Is that what you say, Crow?" Tirnya asked.
He hesitated, but only for an instant. "Yes, Capt'n, I guess it is."
Tirnya wasn't sure what to say to them. A part of her felt that she should have been angry. They were questioning her judgment as well as her father's. But she also understood. The first time the Mettai used magic on their behalf, their monstrous wolves nearly killed several soldiers. This time the eagles seemed more intent on each other than on the Fal'Borna, and the sleeping spell, while effective, made what should have been a battle into something more akin to a massacre. She didn't want anything to do with magic anymore, regardless of whether the conjurings were done by Mettai or Fal'Borna. Then again, had it not been for Mettai magic, most of them would be dead. She reminded the men of this.
"Ye're right," Oliban told her. "Tha' spell saved hundr'ds, if no' thousands." He glanced at Crow. "T' be honest, some don' hold with those who'd go on without any Mettai magic at all. I don' much like th' Mettai, bu' I don' think we can win this war without 'em. What we did t'day, though; tha' was… it was wrong, Capt'n. There's no other word for it. It was wrong."
"Do you think we could have won the battle any other way?" she asked, looking at each of the men in turn.
For some time none of them answered.
Finally, Oliban said, "Probably not."
She thought to ask if they were suggesting then that this war wasn't worth fighting, but she wasn't sure she wanted to hear their answer to that.
"I don't think so, either," she said instead. "This is war. You do what you have to in order to win. Today we did something that none of us felt good about. But at the end of the day, we're alive and our army is largely intact. Given what that Fal'Borna fire did to our lines, despite the Mettai spell, I think it's clear that matters could have been far worse."
Crow looked like he might argue the point further, but Oliban cut him off with a sharp look.
"Thank you, Capt'n," Oliban said.
The others muttered thank-yous as well, and they left her there. She watched them walk back into the sept and rejoin the rest of her company. Then she started back herself. She spotted Enly from afar and steered clear of him, but wound up face-to-face with her father.
"I just had a meeting with the captains and Hendrid," he said. "Where were you?"
"I'm sorry, Father. I was… my lead riders needed to speak with me. I was with them."
"Is there a problem?"
She shook her head. "They were asking about rations. That's all."
He eyed her doubtfully.
"What did you tell the other captains?" she asked, hoping to forestall more questions.
"I didn't like the way today's battle went. We were poorly prepared and took too long to develop a strategy for attack. Out here on the plain, an army as large as ours can easily be spotted from a distance. The Fal'Borna will be ready for our attack, and the next sept might ride to meet us. So we're going to alter our marching formations. I want archers and the Mettai at the front of our lines at all times. And I want the archers mustered into companies of one hundred each. These companies will march together, eat together, and make camp together. They should be able to respond to commands instantly. Each of you will have command of one of them. Enly will tell you which is yours."
"Enly?" she said.
"You weren't there; he was."
She heard the rebuke in his voice and didn't dare argue. "All right. What about the swordsmen?"
Her father shook his head, glancing around the sept at his army. "I almost wish I hadn't brought any. This war will be won with magic and arrows. We lost more than two hundred bowmen today. I've already ordered as many swordsmen to take the places of those who fell. If I had more bows, I'd order more into the arrow companies."
Tirnya nodded. Magic and arrows. "What about the Mettai?" she asked. "What do you mean?"
"Some of the men were disturbed by the way today's battle went. To be honest, I was, too."
Jenoe's eyes narrowed. "Disturbed in what way?" he demanded.
Tirnya threw her arms wide. "You have to ask? We killed them in their sleep, Father! I had to kill a woman who lay in her shelter beside children!"
His face reddened and the muscles in his jaw tightened. He rarely lost his temper, but Tirnya had seen him go on tirades in the past, and she expected he would now. When he spoke, though, his voice was low and controlled. In many ways this was worse.
"You wanted this war, Tirnya. You wanted the Mettai with us. You got both. This is the magic we have, and distasteful though you may find it, this is the only way we can win. If you prefer to watch the Fal'Borna slaughter our army, then I'll tell Fayonne to take her people and go home. Otherwise, I'd suggest you keep quiet and follow my orders."
She felt as though he had slapped her.
Jenoe walked off before she could speak, leaving Tirnya to stare at the ground and try not to cry.
When at last she had composed herself, she looked up and caught sight of Enly and Gries, who were together and walking her way. Her first thought was that for two rivals who were supposed to hate each other, they agreed a lot and spent a good deal of time together. Her next thought was that she really wanted nothing to do with either of them just then.
She turned and started to walk away.
"Tirnya!" Enly's voice.
She stopped, exhaled, and turned back to them.
"What?" she said, making no effort to mask her annoyance.
Enly stopped in front of her, seemingly unaffected by her tone. "I thought you'd want to know that I put you in charge of the archers from your company and Stri's. Stri agreed to take command of a company from Fairlea."
Tirnya nodded. "Very well. Thank you."
"Are you all right?" he asked, stepping closer to her and lowering his voice.
"Why wouldn't I be?" she said, turning and walking away from him again. "We won today, didn't we?"
Chapter 14
U'Selle had spent much of her life living at the fringe of her own clan, upending traditions she'd never intended to challenge. She had been born in Lowna, an established town along the Silverwater, rather than in the impermanent septs of the Central Plain. She and her people had made their gold by trading in the marketplace rather than by tracking rilda. She knew that some on the plain considered towns like hers to be Fal'Borna in name only. In most ways that mattered, these people believed, the people of Lowna were more like the Talm'Orast or H'Bel, the prosperous merchant clans that inhabited the lands west of the Ofirean.
It didn't help that U'Selle was one of the few female a'laqs in all the land. Rather than earning her a modicum of respect from other sept leaders, her position served only to isolate her further. Most of the other a'laqs seemed to think her undeserving of the title. And perhaps she was. Yes, she was a Weaver. But if there had been another male Weaver living in Lowna when her beloved F'Jai died ten years before, she would gladly have allowed him to become a'laq.
As it was, she had been so grief-stricken those first few turns after he died that she barely understood that the clan council of the village had chosen her to lead them. When at last she realized that everyone seemed to be calling her A'Laq, it was too late to do anything.
Over the years, she had come to enjoy leading the village, and though the other a'laqs seldom showed her the respect she thought she deserved, her own people never seemed to question the choice they had made all those years ago.