Battle Magic

12

FORT SAMBACHU

SNOW SERPENT PASS

Briar rose at dawn the next day after a night filled with foul dreams of Rosethorn and Evvy in the hands of imperial torturers. Rather than go back to sleep and risk more dreams, he borrowed a mare with a stable girl’s permission and rode out of the fort.

He had thought to go uphill, but the sight of the Sun Queen’s three mountain husbands towering over him made him feel uncomfortably fenced in. Instead he rode down, past the tent village where most of the army was camped, over the Snow Serpent River crossing, and out onto the grasses and brush of the Gnam Runga. The light in the sky was pearly and seemed to come from everywhere in the east. It would be a while before the sun crested the topmost heights of the hills and mountains there.

His horse startled a pair of pheasants, who drove horse and rider away from what turned out to be a parade of peeping youngsters. Snow finches, wagtails, and larks also gave their opinions of the rider and his horse as their day was interrupted. Briar wasn’t sure, but those opinions sounded like bird insults. He scanned the sky for the famed Gyongxe buzzards and steppe eagles, but there were none in sight.

“Too cold,” he told the mare. Gloomily he added, “Or they’re out where the fighting’s going on. They’ll get plenty of food at those places, enough for every carrion bird in Gyongxe.” Normally he grudged no one a meal, having often gone without for the first eleven years of his life, but it was hard to wish a buzzard well at a battlefield.

Once he could no longer see the village on the eastern hills or the fort on the southern ones, Briar dismounted, letting the mare’s reins trail. The horse, a sturdy animal bred for the thin air of the mountains, began to graze. Briar walked on until he heard only the wind in the grass and the insults of the smaller birds.

Someone had told him that Gnam Runga meant “Sky Drum.” It was a vast plain between the Drimbakang Lho and the Drimbakang Zugu, the long finger of mountains that curved out of the southern heights and around the capital, Garmashing. The enemy was aiming for that wide plain, where his generals could put their catapults to good use. First they would have to fight the emperor’s army in the north and the tribes of the Drimbakang Sharlog around the eastern passes. No one wanted the imperial armies to mass on the Gnam Runga.

Briar would have preferred to fight in the canyons, where he could have put trees to work, but the plain was what he would have, first when he rode west with Parahan and Souda and later when they rode to Garmashing. Now he crouched and tried to dig his fingers into the dirt of the Gnam Runga. The grass was interwoven and tough. It fought his intrusion, just as it fought the death of the winter freeze.

“I’m a friend,” he told it. “I just want to meet the dirt. Let me in a little.” He spread his magic over the bed of plants. There were patches of bare earth here and there, but he could feel the plant roots running under them, nourished by the trickle of moisture from the distant river.

The grasses trembled and then gave way.

“Thank you,” Briar told them gravely. “You’re very strong. Those lowland grasses would never stand a chance against you.”

The grasses were scornful of fat, water-soaked plants beyond the mountains. Only here, next to the sky, could they reach for the infinite.

Briar shook his head and looked around. A line of boulders stood close by. There were images painted on them in bright colors and outlined in white: a many-headed god, a snake twined about itself to make an intricate circle, a goddess riding a beast whose antlers were tipped with stars, a spider that wore a crown. It wasn’t the first time he had seen such paintings on rocks. Then, as now, he wondered who went to such trouble, and why. The Snow Serpent Pass was bare of them. Now that he thought of it, the Ice Lion Pass, which they had taken on the way to Dohan, had also been bare of the paintings. It was as if the artists had not wanted to share them with foreigners.

Shaking his head at the idea, possibly a leftover of his nightmares, he scooped up a little dirt. The grass closed over the space it had made for him. Briar said his thanks, rubbing the dirt in his palms to get a feel for it. If he was going to be fighting on these plains, he needed to understand his battlefield. He spent his ride back to Fort Sambachu smelling that earth, rolling it between his fingers, and dusting it onto his cheeks. Finally he rinsed it off in the little river that ran past the camp. By then he understood the earth of the Gnam Runga and what grew there, if not the stones and their paintings.

This dirt was very young and energetic, thrust up by the same force that made the Drimbakangs themselves. That same youth filled the roots and stems of everything that grew in it, making it more inclined to do whatever he — or Rosethorn — might ask of it.

He was considering the possibilities on his return to the fort when a soldier in the armor of the Realms of the Sun hailed him and informed him that Their Highnesses Parahan and Soudamini desired his company at breakfast. By the time Briar left Parahan and Souda, they had equipped him for any fighting they might encounter as they got the villagers to the safety of the temple fortresses. He now had three horses assigned for his use, extra packs, a tent, an armored vest, riding gauntlets, leather riding breeches, and an armored cap with a tassel of bronze eagle feathers. He also had a short, potbellied rider named Jimut, who had been assigned to care for Briar’s horses, tent, and even Briar himself.

He and Jimut had just dumped everything in Briar’s room when Rosethorn banged on the door. Briar could hardly believe what he saw when he opened up. Rosethorn looked fresher and brighter than she had in a couple of years. There was an extra gloss to her short-cropped hair. Even the natural red of her lips was more vivid than it had been in a long time.

“What are you gawping at, boy?” Her voice was louder and crisper, as if she had more wind in her lungs. Briar forgot himself and hugged her. She pushed him away. “What has gotten into you? Don’t think I’ve forgiven you for your rudeness to First Dedicate Dokyi last night!”

He grinned at her. “Never crossed my mind,” he reassured her.

Rosethorn looked at Jimut. “And who’s this?”

“Jimut, this is my teacher, the nanshur Rosethorn,” Briar said. He’d been lucky that Souda had found a man who spoke tiyon, since Briar had only a scattering of words in Banpuri. “She’ll be riding with us.”

Jimut pressed his palms together before his face and bowed deeply to Rosethorn. On their walk to the fort Briar had tried to explain that it was important to be polite to her.

“Whatever he told you, I’m much worse,” Rosethorn said.

Jimut kept his palms together and bowed again.

Rosethorn made a harrumphing noise and looked at Briar. “Bring a seed ball and some strong-grow potion,” she ordered. “Captain Rana has horses and guards waiting. We’re going to block the pass.”

“May I come?” Jimut asked. “If I am to attend Nanshur Briar —”

Briar sighed. “It’s just Briar.” He’d already said it to Jimut twice.

“I should take every chance to become used to his sort of magic,” Jimut continued politely.

“I have no problems with that,” Rosethorn said. “Only Briar, if we can move this along? We need to root them more deeply than usual, and I want to get it over with.”

“Evvy?” Briar asked.

“She would rather take a bath, she says. She has seen us do this before.”

They were out the door with Rosethorn before she had time to get testy. She said nothing, sinking into a distant, thoughtful mood as they joined Sergeant Kanbab and a squad of ten soldiers at the stables.

As they rode past the camp, they saw that everyone was now up and busy shining armor, sharpening weapons, bundling crossbow bolts, and doing up packs. In the open ground between the tents and the river, archers practiced their shooting while spearmen and swordsmen dueled under the eyes of their commanders. The cavalry jumped their horses over obstacles in unison on the plain. Refugees were arriving: They carried children and belongings, or fetched them in carts and on the backs of mules and yaks as they climbed to the fort.

Once they reached the narrow place in the pass where the road first entered the river gorge, Rosethorn emerged from her deep silence. “Sergeant, take your people over to that rock,” she yelled over the roar of the fast-moving water. “If you’d hold our horses until we’re done?”

Kanbab nodded and motioned for her people to take the animals as Briar, Jimut, and Rosethorn dismounted. Jimut stayed back as the mages went into the bottleneck where the hills were closest to the road.

The task was easily done. Briar sprinkled strong-grow potion on the seed balls held by each of them, but the seeds were already quivering before the liquid touched them. The balls had soaked in the wakefulness and swift growth of the others used in the fighting on their way to the fort. Now it took just a whisper from Rosethorn for them to leap to the ground. The cloth burst, showering seeds everywhere. Plants slammed roots into the earth and sprouted even as Rosethorn and Briar walked forward with their water flasks. By the time they had emptied the water over the scattered seed, the growing vines were up to their shins. The green whips did not try to snag the two mages, but those would be the only people the vines left alone. Thorns an inch long showed on the lowest parts of the stems as the vines rose and sprouted more branches. Their various flowers budded and bloomed, then scattered still more seed in a burst of air.

Rosethorn and Briar had withdrawn to the clear ground near Jimut by the time the first blossoms showed. Everyone could see that green stems had crawled across all of the open ground between the rise of stone to the hills and to the river. They could hear the rustle as petals and leaves unfurled and heavy stems wove together with their neighbors.

Kanbab, who had at least seen something like this before, offered Rosethorn her flask. Rosethorn took a gulp of butter tea, grimaced, and passed the flask to Briar. He took two good drinks, having acquired a taste for the local beverage, and returned the flask to Kanbab with a quiet thank-you. He never took his eyes from the barrier, feeling with his power for any weaknesses. Rosethorn left that to him as the kind of basic work a junior mage ought to attend to.

“Will the enemy be able to cut through the vines?” Kanbab wanted to know.

“With a sharp enough sword or halberd,” Rosethorn said absently.

Briar grinned. “And then the stems will grow back three times as fast. And they will look for the one that chopped them, and grow straight through him.”

“Or around,” Rosethorn murmured.

“Or around,” Briar agreed. “And around, and around.”

“And the emperor will know you did this,” Kanbab said.

Rosethorn and Briar looked at each other. “Let him,” Rosethorn said.

The barrier was now two feet thick and three feet high. Thorns pulled themselves up the hillside, drawing stems with them. Roots shot down from the stems, lancing deep into the stony earth. More blossoms gave up seed that filtered to the ground among the thickly woven stems.

Briar waited for word from Rosethorn. She watched until the barrier was four feet tall and five feet wide on the road, and had climbed ten feet up along the hillside. No horse, mule, camel, yak, or human would be able to pass between the barrier and the river without losing skin, or between the river and the cliffs that edged it on the far side. They both knew the thorns would continue to grow for days, leaving the flanks of the hills on the north side of the road impassable by mount or by foot. No one would be crossing into or out of Gyongxe until Dokyi, Sayrugo, or those with whom they had trusted the opening spell came to clear the pass again.

Briar glanced at Jimut, who had turned gray under his dark brown skin.

“Jimut, mount up,” he told the rider. “And have a swallow of something, before you faint.”

“I never faint,” Jimut said, but he wobbled as he walked to his horse.

One of the other soldiers held the mount’s reins. It took Jimut two tries to get into the saddle.

“This will do, I think,” Rosethorn said, turning away from what they had set in motion.

“Good,” Briar said. “I want my breakfast.”

By midday, General Sayrugo and two hundred of her troops were gone, on their way northeast to warn the villages and get the people to safety in the temple fortresses. Briar, Rosethorn, and Evvy spent the afternoon with Parahan and Soudamini, playing with the cats, watching their troops exercise, reading maps of the Gyongxe basin, and refusing to speak of anything gloomy. Supper was a grand feast in the style of the Realms of the Sun. Captain Rana and his squad were invited as thanks for bringing Parahan to Gyongxe and his sister. There was juggling, sword and fire dancing, and music from the Realms and Gyongxe. In the end, Parahan carried Evvy back to her room in the fort. She had fallen asleep by the fire. The cats, used to these things, followed them.

Evvy woke as Parahan set her down to open her door. Since she was leaving at dawn, Rosethorn had moved her things down to the camp. Evvy now had the room to herself. Parahan held her up with one hand as he walked her inside.

“Are you coming to say good-bye to us in the morning?” he asked as she fumbled to feed the meowing cats.

Evvy shook her head. “I don’t like good-byes. They’re bad luck. I feel small enough about not going to fight.” She sat cross-legged on her bed.

“You helped fight all the way here,” Parahan told her. “And Rana may need you to help defend this place. Just take care of yourself and the cats, so I have my friends to come back to. Will you promise me?”

“All right. I promise.” Evvy grabbed Parahan’s sleeve. “And you look after Briar and Rosethorn? As much as they’ll let you.” She felt a bad quivering in her lip and in her eyelids.

Evvy turned over and buried her face in the pillows. She only looked up, and wiped her wet eyes on her sleeve, when she heard the door close.

That afternoon she had placed her small statue of Yanjing’s god of luck, Heibei, on the room’s shrine. Now she used one of the coals in the hearth to light a stick of incense. Applying that, she lit two more sticks in the jar that already stood on the shrine, then left hers with them. Putting her palms together, she bowed and prayed silently to the plump, grinning god. She knew that Parahan, Souda, Dokyi, and Rosethorn didn’t pray to Heibei, but she didn’t think the god would mind, and Briar always said he would take help from wherever he would get it. She wasn’t sure about General Sayrugo’s gods, but she included her as well. She’d heard Captain Rana’s warriors say that soldiers could always use a friendly god’s attention.

Once she had finished praying to Heibei, Evvy turned in the direction of the Sun Queen’s husbands. She knew exactly where each mountain’s peak rose behind the fort. Now, in the quiet of the room, with the cats settled on the bed without fuss, she even thought she could hear their voices. One of them especially had a kind and musical voice, a low, burring hum. She tried to copy it low in her chest, reaching for that magical sound. On and on she hummed, making a kind of prayer of it, a prayer to the Sun Queen’s husbands to look after her friends.