"Of course," Enly said. "Please follow me."
He turned Nallaj, his bay, and began to lead the two Mettai toward the front of the column. He noticed that soldiers from all the armies were watching them, their eyes seemingly drawn to the Mettai like moths to a flame. There was fear in the looks they gave the woman and her son, and hostility as well. Once again, Enly wondered if this alliance Tirnya and Jenoe had forged with the sorcerers would work. Allies were supposed to trust one another. And he saw no trust at all in the way Stelpana's soldiers regarded these two.
By the time they returned to the front of the column, Jenoe, Tirnya, and the others had dismounted and were standing in a loose circle. Seeing them approach, Jenoe stepped away from Marshal Crish and the captains, a smile fixed on his youthful face.
"Eldest," he said. "Thank you for joining us. Did Captain Tolm tell you why we stopped?"
She nodded. "He said there's a sept ahead."
"That's right. We believe it's a large one, with several hundred Fal'Borna warriors. Their paddock is full, but our scouts saw no people at all." Fayonne made a sour face. "You gave yourselves away."
The marshal bristled, and Enly wondered if he'd reply in anger. After a moment, though, he merely said in a tight voice, "So it would seem."
"That's unfortunate," Fayonne went on. "It will make this more difficult.
They'll raise a mist and I'd imagine they'll try to unnerve your horses with their magic. And when you're close enough, they'll use shaping power against you."
"What would you suggest we do?" Jenoe asked.
She looked at her son, who was staring at the ground, seemingly oblivious to their conversation.
But to Enly's surprise, he was the one who answered.
"There are about fifty of us," he said, "and I think we'd be best off dividing ourselves into three or four groups. One group can use fire against their shelters. Another can use a finding spell. And still-"
Enly held up a hand. "Wait. What's a finding spell?"
Mander grinned, clearly pleased with himself. "It's magic that seeks out other magic. We can spread it over the village and if the white-hairs are hiding, it will show where they are."
"Can it be used to find a specific kind of magic?" Gries asked. Mander and his mother exchanged looks.
"I don't know," the man said. "What did you have in mind?"
"Can it find Weavers?" Gries turned to Jenoe. "If we could identify the Weavers by sight, it would make fighting them much easier. We could have our bowmen concentrate all of their fire on the leaders. If we kill them, defeating the rest would be easy."
"Can you do this?" Jenoe asked the Mettai.
Mander looked uncertain. "We can try."
"There was more," Tirnya said. "You weren't done telling us which magics you'd use."
He nodded. "Right. The last thing we should do is conjure wolves, and send them in along with the army."
Jenoe frowned. "Wolves?"
The smile returned to Mander's face. "Not just any wolves. B-" Fayonne touched his arm and shook her head.
"Enchanted wolves," Mander went on a moment later, still eyeing her. "Intelligent, powerful, and immune to language of beasts. The white-hairs wouldn't be able to confuse them with their magic."
"You've done this?" Gries asked.
"We know how to do it," Fayonne said. "Some spells have been passed down for generations. This is one of them. It was used long ago, early in the Blood Wars."
Fairlea's captain shook his head. "I've never heard of such a thing." He looked at Enly. "Have you?"
"It doesn't matter if you've heard of it," Tirnya said before Enly could answer. "This is just what we've been hoping for. We've known all along that early in the Blood Wars things were different. The Eandi did well against Qirsi magic. Now we know that some of the spells used back then survive to this day. We should use them all."
They turned to Jenoe, who gazed toward the western horizon, as if he could already see the sept. He didn't look pleased.
"Father?" Tirnya said, ending a lengthy silence.
The marshal shook his head slowly. "I don't like this. Forgive me, Eldest," he added with a glance at Fayonne. "We brought you here to wield your magic, and wield it you will. But I have to say that I'm uncomfortable fighting this way. I've never had to rely on any form of sorcery, and I never thought I would."
"You can't defeat them without us," Fayonne said, her tone as blunt as her words. "We both know that. So I'd suggest you put your qualms aside and let us fight the way we know how."
Once again, Enly expected the marshal to react angrily. Instead, he laughed.
"I suppose I deserved that. You're right, Eldest. We need your magic, and we'll be grateful to you and your people for shedding your blood on our behalf."
Fayonne nodded solemnly. "Get the others," she said, turning to her son once more. She looked back at Jenoe. "I'm sure you understand, Marshal, that we can be most effective at the head of your army."
"Yes, of course." Jenoe looked at Enly, Tirnya, and the others. "Our archers will begin the assault; we should bring them forward also."
"Yes, Marshal," Enly said, speaking for the others before they all returned to their companies.
Enly found his lead riders in a tight cluster, talking quietly among themselves as his soldiers milled about. Seeing Enly approach, they turned to face him. Aldir Canithal, the senior man among his riders, barked a command to the rest of the company that instantly had them scrambling to muster themselves back into formation.
"It's all right," Enly called.
The soldiers slowed, though they still returned to their positions. "What's happened?" Aldir asked in his usual clipped tone.
"The scouts have spotted a sept ahead. The marshal wants us to bring the bowmen forward. We're about to have our first battle."
Several of the other riders blanched at these tidings, but not Aldir. He was actually several years older than Enly, and might well have made captain already had Enly not requested that the man remain under his command. He'd explained as much to Aldir, who had dismissed his apologies with a wave of his hand.
"I'm a soldier," he'd said at the time. "I'm in no hurry t' be a captain. You boys never get yar uniforms dirty."
Enly had laughed, thinking at the time that the man was right: He was a warrior to the very core. He definitely looked the part. He had a high forehead and a broad, homely face. His nose had been broken so many times in battle tournaments and training sessions that it always looked swollen and bent. His eyes, clear blue like lake waters during the Snows, were small and widely spaced. He wasn't particularly tall or broad, but he moved with an efficient grace, like a wolf on the prowl. There was no one else with whom Enly would have felt more at ease going into battle, except perhaps-and Enly never would have admitted this to his father-for Jenoe.
"We saw ya go past with th' Mettai," Aldir said now. "We suspected th' scouts had found somethin'."
"What are th' Mettai goin' t' be doin'?" asked Jinqled Savlek.
"Magic," Enly said. "Which is just what we brought them to do."
Jinq looked away, but nodded, his lips pressed in a flat line. He was, in many ways, as different from Aldir as any man could be. Tall, handsome, with red hair, green eyes, and a smile that had charmed many a barmaid into his bed, he was the youngest of Enly's lead riders. He was a good soldier. Someday he'd be a great one, but for now he was too reckless, too prone to mistakes. He'd made clear to Enly on several occasions that he didn't like the Mettai and had no interest in riding into battle beside them.
"There are other ways t'-"
Aldir silenced Jinq by laying a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "Let it be, lad."
Jinq looked away again.
Enly stepped closer to them. "If it makes you feel any better, Jinq," he said, dropping his voice to a whisper, "the marshal isn't too sure about this, either."
"Then why are we doin' it?"
"Because as much as we don't feel comfortable with sorcerers, we're going to war against them, and having magic on our side balances things a bit. Do you really want to face the Fal'Borna with nothing more than arrows and steel?"