“You have your orders! Tell Angos to proceed at once!” Miathan’s faceted eyes gleamed. “I wish I had known about this sooner. With power gained from the ritual spilling of Mortal life, nothing is beyond us! And I need that power, Eliseth. Aurian is currently in the Southern desert, but when she leaves it, I have a surprise for her! She will discover then what it means to defy the Archmage!”
Eliseth stormed out of the Tower on the wings of rage, sending the first poor terrified drudge she found to summon Angos, Captain of Mercenaries, to the Academy. She glared after the retreating servant, her fists clenched, her body rigid with determination. Thus far, she would obey Miathan s orders, but no further. ,
“So you’re determined to bring her back, Miathan? she muttered. “Well, I may have a surprise for you!” swiftly she crossed the courtyard to the dome in which she did her work of controlling the weather. So Aurian was in the desert? Excellent! She would never come out alive! Smiling grimly, Eliseth went to unleash the sandstorms.
36
Battle in the Wildwood
Late at night, Vannor walked with his daughter Zanna, along the torchlit shingle beach in the smugglers’ great cavern. Fragments of shell crunched softly beneath their feet, and the only other sound was a hushed, soothing sea song as the waters lapped gently against the sheer walls at the rear and farther side of the cave. The companionable silence was broken by Vannor’s sigh. His reunion with Antor and his daughter had been joyous, but the brief time spent here with them had flown—and tomorrow he would be leaving again.
“Cheer up, Dad.” Zanna squeezed his hand, much to Vannor’s chagrin. Why, he should have been consoling her\ But his middle child, just turned sixteen, possessed common sense far beyond her years.
She was his favorite, taking after him in all ways—including looks, unfortunately. He smiled at her, taking in her sturdy, compact little body, her plain, pleasant face, and her brown hair, pulled back from her face in no-nonsense braids. “I thought you’d want to go with me,” he said.
“You should have taught me to fight, then, like the Lady Aurian,” Zanna replied. “The maidenly arts that caught my sister a husband are wasted on me.” She sighed, betraying her true feelings. “I wish I could come—but I’d only hold you back. Besides, I’ll be of more use here.”
Vannor put his arm around her, hugging her close to his side. “Well, you seem to have it all thought out. Do you have any plans your old dad should know about?”
Zanna smiled, a secret little smile that added a new maturity to her face. “I have, indeed, but you must promise to hear me out before you start yelling!”
“All right.” The merchant wondered what she was up to.
Zanna hesitated for a moment. “I’m going to marry Yanis.”
“What? Are you out of your mind? Over my dead body will you wed some base-born outlaw—”
“Dad, you said yould-jiear me out! You can’t be choosy now,” Zanna reminded him. “You’re an outlaw, too! It may not be what you want, but don’t you see the sense of it? I’m not cut out to be a merchant’s wife, all decorative and ladylike.” She made a wry face. “Besides, you know how merchants go for looks. You can’t afford a dowry that would tempt one to take me—and I’m needed here. Yanis has been struggling since he took over. Oh, he’s brave, and full of ideas, but he doesn’t know how to plan\ But I do—I’m not your daughter for nothing!
Vannor gaped at her, astonished and—reluctantly—impressed. “But he’s twice your age!” he objected.
“Not even thirty,” Zanna corrected swiftly, “and you have no room to talk about age differences!” Vannor flinched, knowing her vehement disapproval of Sara, and changed the subject hastily. “Was this his idea?”
“Certainly not!” Zanna was all indignation. “But Remana will help me. She thinks it’s time he married—”
“Hold on! You mean Yanis doesn’t know about this?”
Grinning, Zanna shook her head. “No—but I don’t plan to let that stop me’. Dulsina says—”
“Dulsina again!” Vannor growled. “I might have known she’d be in this somewhere!” He tried to quell the fond smile that was creeping over his face at the thought of his indomitable housekeeper. When he was outlawed, Dulsina had insisted on accompanying him into the sewers, where she had proceeded to organize and mother his ragtag band of rebels, learning to shoot a bow and wield a deadly knife in the process, with the same calm interest tharshe would have shown in trying out a new recipe. Now she had come with him to join the Nightrun-ners, and was reorganizing the lives of his family again, as though she had never left off.
Vannor shook his head. “Dear Gods!” He suddenly found himself ceasing to worry about his levelheaded daughter. His sympathies swung instead toward the unsuspecting leader of the smugglers. Poor Yanis didn’t stand a chance!
“Come along, Dad.” Zanna tugged at his arm. “Here comes Parric, with the others. It’s time to say goodbye.”
“And that’s another thing—” Vannor began—and shut his mouth abruptly. He had no right to burden his daughter with his doubts about Parric’s pigheaded insistence on traveling south, in search of Aurian. He should be coming with us, to the Valley, Vannor thought. Even supposing the Lady will help us, how will I set up a rebel base without his help? It’s all very well to say I’ll have Hargorn to help me, but the man is a soldier, not a strategist! I just don’t have the military experience for this —and Parric is going off to get himself killed for nothing!
The Cavalrymaster came out of the opening that led from his lodgings, and smiled to see Zanna with her dad. He was glad the little lass had come to say farewell—he’d grown right fond of her. Why, if he’d been a few years younger . . . Parric stifled the thought. Vannor wouldn’t stand for a randy soldier tumbling his favorite daughter! Besides, her attentions were fixed elsewhere—and good luck to her. Yanis wasn’t bright, but he was a handsome catch, and Parric knew whose hands would hold the reins of that marriage! He chuckled, wondering if she’d had the chance to break the news to her father. By the stunned look on Vannor’s face, it seemed she had. Sure enough, as he approached, Zanna gave him a sly wink behind her father’s back. Parric fought to keep a straight face, feeling absurdly pleased that the lass had chosen to confide in him. Even if it did imply that she saw him in a more fatherly role than he liked . . .
“Better get a move on!” Idris, the weatherbeaten, pinch-faced captain of the ship that was to take them south, hailed them from the deck of his vessel. “The tide won’t wait, you know!” Parric grinned and made an obscene gesture at him, before turning to Vannor.
The merchant looked troubled, as he had done since the Cavalrymaster had first broached what Vannor called “this crazy scheme.” Parric decided to beat him to it, for he had no time to argue the whole thing out again. “It’s all right, Vannor,” he said firmly. “You’ll manage, and I’ll manage—and I’ll be back as soon as I’ve found Aurian.”
“If you find her,” Vannor muttered doubtfully. “You have no idea how big the Southern Kingdoms are—not to mention the hostile, warlike nature of the Southerners!”
“But that’s why Aurian needs my help . . .” Parric might as well not have spoken.
“Added to that, you’ve saddled yourself with an old man and a mad Mage,” V§njnor went on, but to Parric’s relief, he shut his mouth hastily as the old man and the mad Mage came over the sands toward them with Sangra, who had refused to be left out of the expedition.
“Ready to go?” the warrior asked cheerfully. Parric could have kissed her—but that could wait. “Get them aboard, love,” he told her, “I’m just coming.” He turned back to Vannor. “You’re right about one thing—I wish we could have persuaded Elewin to stay behind. The journey here took it out of him, and he’s in no fit state to go traipsing around the South.”