“Takado’s parting gift,” Jayan said, moving up beside him. Scouts carrying blood gem rings had warned Sabin of the obstruction. Dakon looked up at the rock walls stretching above them. He could see where the rock had been blasted.
“Hopefully such a waste of power means he is not waiting in ambush for us.”
“Hopefully,” Jayan agreed.
Dakon glanced at Tessia, who was gazing up at the walls. Abruptly a memory rose of the moment Jayan had caught up with them, some weeks back. He’d taken a side trip to the abandoned servants’ camp, now being scavenged by people returning to the country, and found her father’s bag dumped in a pile of rubbish with most of the contents missing. As he’d handed it to her she’d burst into tears, hugging the bag to herself and apologising for her outburst at the same time. Jayan had looked embarrassed and unable to think of anything to say, yet afterwards he had seemed very pleased with himself.
The bag was now restocked with a new burner and surgery tools, and cures made by Tessia or donated by village healers.
As they reached the magicians standing before the rocks, Sabin looked up at them.
“We’ll camp here tonight,” he said. “And decide what to do next.”
Having dismounted, Dakon sat on one of the boulders and watched as the rest of the army arrived. A few magicians decided to sweep the area clear of rocks and stones from the fall. As soon as the servants reached the pass they set to work. Horses were tended to. The ground was too solid for tent hooks, so it was decided that everyone would have to sleep in the open and hope it didn’t rain. Cooking smells began to waft about and made Dakon’s stomach rumble.
As what little sunlight made its way into the ravine began to dwindle, the king, his advisers and the foreign magicians moved boulders into a circle and sat down. The rest of the magicians followed suit, arranging themselves outside the circle.
Lord Hakkin looked up at the rocks. “Since we got here and I saw this, I can’t help wondering if we’d be better off adding to it rather than clearing it.”
“Block the pass?” Lord Perkin asked.
Hakkin nodded. “It wouldn’t prevent them coming back if they were determined enough. But it would slow them down.”
“It is the main trade route, though,” Perkin reminded him.
“Who’s going to trade with them now?” Narvelan asked, narrowing his eyes and looking around the circle.
“An end to trade would harm us as much as them,” the king pointed out. “Perhaps harm us more. They have better access to other lands.”
“I have to agree with you, your majesty,” Dem Ayend said. “When news came that Sachaka had invaded Kyralia some of my people took it upon themselves to murder the Sachakan traders based in Elyne. We will come to regret that, though I’m sure trade links will be re-established in time.”
“Perhaps instead we should build a fort here,” Lord Bolvin suggested. “Control who passes into Kyralia. It would have the same advantage of slowing an invasion, and we would know it is happening. Instantly, if we post a magician here.”
“We could charge Sachakan traders a fee, as well,” Hakkin added. “It might go some way towards helping our people recover.”
Heads were nodding, Dakon saw. The fee could never be high enough, he thought. It can’t be set so high that it discourages trade. And it would go straight into some magician’s coffer, most likely, not into the common people’s hands.
“How likely is it that we will be invaded again?” Lord Perkin asked, looking around.
Nobody answered for a long moment.
“That depends on two things,” Sabin said. “The desire to, and the ability to. Will they desire to? Perhaps we have frightened them into leaving us alone. Or maybe, by killing so many members of their most powerful families, we have set a desire for revenge blazing that could lead to endless conflict.”
“They invaded us,” Narvelan growled.
“True. But Sachakans are nothing less than utterly convinced of their superiority over other races. We have dared to defeat them. They won’t like it.”
“How many Sachakan magicians are left?” Bolvin asked.
“I have kept count of the fatalities as best I could,” Sabin said. “I estimate at least ninety Sachakans have died in this invasion.”
“There were over two hundred in Sachaka, according to my spies,” the king said.
“So over a hundred remain,” Hakkin said. “We number no more than eighty.”
“Some of their magicians are too young or too old to fight effectively,” the king added.
“The odds don’t sound good, even so,” Perkin said.
“I think we’ve learned the hard way that it is not the number of magicians that matters, but their strength,” Narvelan said.
“And their skills and knowledge,” Dakon added.
“It is not only their strength to begin with, though that is important, but their access to strength later,” Sabin said. “They can only bring so many slaves into Kyralia. We have the support of most of our population.”
“I think they’ve learned their lesson,” Hakkin said.
“But how long before they forget it?” Narvelan asked. “Will our children fight and die in another war? Or our grandchildren?”
“Can we prevent its ever happening again?” Sabin asked. He shook his head. “Of course we can’t.”
“Or can we?” Narvelan said. All turned to look at him, many frowning. His eyes were dark as he smiled back at them. “They wouldn’t invade us if we ruled them.”
That sent a ripple of murmuring out from the circle. Dakon saw eyes widen at the possibility, and heads shake.
“Invade Sachaka?” Hakkin scowled. “Even if we had a chance of success, we’ve just fought a war. Do we have the energy for another?”
“We might, if it would ensure Kyralia’s future,” Lord Perkin said.
The king was frowning. “Can we afford to lose more of our own magicians?” he asked, his gaze fixed on the ground. “We may return victorious only to find ourselves vulnerable to attack from elsewhere.”
“Who else would dare, or bother, your majesty?” Narvelan spread his hands. “Lonmar? They are too busy worshipping their god and barely pay attention to what we do. Lan? Vin? Elyne? They are here, supporting us.” He turned to regard Dem Ayend, smiling but with a hint of seriousness in his gaze.
The Dem chuckled. “Elyne has always been a friend of Kyralia.” He paused. “And if you allow it, we would join you in your endeavour. We know we will not last long if Kyralia ever falls to Sachaka. I know I have my king’s support on this.”
Sabin hummed in thought, then looked at the Dem. “Your offer would have to be discussed, but I can see one problem to be overcome. If we are to invade Sachaka, we must do it without hesitation. We have only our apprentices and servants to draw strength from. Like us, the Sachakans will evacuate their slaves so that we can’t gain strength from them. We must give them no time to.”
“We should not kill the slaves, but free them,” Dakon said. He smiled as heads turned towards him. “We couldn’t hope to win without taking their power, of course, but after a country is taken it has to be ruled, and it would be easier if the majority of people were co-operative because we had treated them well.” Dakon was pleased to see the king nodding, his expression thoughtful. “If we must invade Sachaka in order to save Kyralia, let’s not become Sachakans.”
Sabin chuckled. “Their way of doing things didn’t work for them, so it won’t work for us.”
More murmuring echoed around the ravine. The leaders were silent, lost in thought. Then Bolvin sighed.
“Must we invade? I’m tired. I want to go home, to my family.”
“We must,” Narvelan said, his voice full of certainty. “So that your children will have the freedoms we have.”
“Perhaps I can help you decide,” Dem Ayend said.