I’m unmoved. “I’ll be checking her anyway.”
Lisutaris doesn’t object to me being thorough. “General Hemistos and Bishop-General Ritari have already complained about your staff bothering them with their security checks. I told them they had to put up with it. The same for Lord Kalith. Nonetheless, it really is Hanama.”
“She might be an impostor.”
“I know her much better than you realise, Thraxas.”
“How? Through the Association of Gentlewomen?”
“The membership of that organisation is unknown,” says Lisutaris, and moves the conversation on briskly. “The journey to the Oracle will take seven hours. We’ll be back in a day. I have to do it. If I didn’t consult the Oracle before going to war, it would damage morale in the Sorcerers Guild. As long as we keep it secret from Bishop-General Ritari and the rest of the religious fanatics, it will be fine.”
Lisutaris sounds confident. For a woman who’s under a lot of pressure, she’s bearing up well. General opinion among the army so far is that she’s a good choice as War Leader.
“Have the Abelasian sorcerers made any progress with their spells for identifying Deeziz?”
Lisutaris shakes her head. “No. We’ve been gathering up everything we know about her. I even had Ibella Hailstorm delve into my own memories to see if there was anything I’d forgotten from our encounter in the Avenging Axe, and normally I’d rather not have anyone delving around in my memories, even a friend like Ibella. So far it hasn’t given us anything. They haven’t developed a spell to locate her. They’ll keep trying.”
“Are we going to wait on the border for the Orcs or march right back to Turai?”
“Were you trying to take me by surprise with that question?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m surprised,” says Lisutaris. “But I can’t tell you. That’s a secret matter for my command council.”
“Have you made a decision?”
“I can’t tell you that either.” Our War Leader turns to her bodyguard. “Are you ready to resume your duties, Ensign Makri?”
Makri nods. “I apologise for the temporary lapse. I won’t let See-ath bother me again.”
“Good. We can’t let minor personal problems interfere with our work. I could have found Kublinos a distraction, but I brushed his attentions off without a second thought.”
That’s something of an exaggeration. Kublinos the Samsarinan Harbour Sorcerer took a great shine to Lisutaris and I wouldn’t say she brushed his attentions off easily. I remember her hiding in a tavern, unable to cope with his wooing. Lisutaris and Makri depart. There’s a shouted command from one of the marshals responsible for getting the army moving, and our wagon rumbles forward. Droo hops aboard with a bottle of wine in her hand.
“Look what I found!”
She passes me the bottle. I drink deeply. I like Droo. She’s a good addition to the unit.
Chapter Eight
After two days of travelling, the rich farmlands of Samsarina still stretch out endlessly in front of us.
“You know what I hate about Samsarina?”
“What?” says Droo.
“There’s too much farmland.”
The young Elf laughs. “I don’t dislike it. But I’m used to more trees.”
It’s not only the farmland that stretches out ahead. We’re following a long column of troops, steadily making their way north-east. Their passing raises a huge cloud of dust which drifts over the array of wagons bringing up the rear. Sitting with the reins in my hand, I have a light scarf tied over my face to keep the dust from my lungs, as does Droo, and most of the people towards the rear of the column. So far, we’ve advanced without incident. Ahead of the column, and flanking us in the distance, Lisutaris has sorcerers on patrol, protected by units from the Sorcerers Auxiliary Regiment. They’re there to give us advance warning of any trouble. We’re not expecting to meet Orcish forces just yet, but we can’t be too careful. Prince Amrag already surprised us by bringing dragons in winter to Turai, something that had never been done before. Samsarina should be out of range of his dragons, but his powerful sorcerers guild might have been working on ways of allowing them to travel further.
Rinderan and Anumaris are in the back of the wagon. When the army stops marching, on one of its regular meal breaks, all four of us will resume our task of hunting for anything suspicious among our forces. If it sounds like a tenuous enterprise, it is. I haven’t come up with anything particularly brilliant. There again, neither have the sorcerers tasked with the same thing. Irith Victorious hasn’t invented any sort of spell that might help. So Lisutaris informs me, anyway. I haven’t seen Irith yet. I should, but I’m still wary of the encounter. It’s going to be uncomfortable.
“What if Deeziz isn’t even here?” wonders Droo. “Maybe she decided to stay with the Orcs this time.”
“Possible. But Lisutaris thought she caught a glimpse of Deeziz making her way west. Lisutaris is good at that sort of thing. I’d say there’s a strong chance Deeziz is somewhere in the midst of this army right now.”
“What do you think she’s planning? Sabotage?”
“Maybe. Though I can’t see the most powerful sorcerer in Orcish world wasting her time on petty acts of destruction. I suppose she could try working some devastating spell, but that would be difficult with so many human sorcerers around. Even if they don’t know what’s coming they’ve always got their dampening field in place. Makes it hard for any spell to take us unawares. Sorcerers do a lot of dampening. When it comes to battle, they’re a lot less exciting than you’d expect.”
“How do you mean?”
“Each side tends to cancel out the other. They use a lot of power defending their own armies by preventing their opponents' spells from landing. Or preventing them being launched in the first place. It can end up as a war of attrition, with no one getting an advantage.”
“So what happens then?”
“It’s left to the regular soldiers hack each other to pieces. Last time there was a major invasion, our sorcerers managed to hold off their guild, but they had enough troops to make it all the way to the walls of Turai. They had dragons, which gives them an advantage. Turai would have fallen if the Elves hadn’t arrived.”
“Why didn’t we save you this time?”
“Because the Orcs attacked in winter. Damned uncivilised behaviour, when you think about it. War is mean to be a summer pursuit.”
“Well, we’re here now,” says Droo, and looks happy about it.
Droo is a cheerful young Elf. Sitting in this wagon, breathing in the dust of a huge army, is far removed from the life she’s used to, but she hasn’t complained about anything. It’s a point in her favour. Since I last encountered her, she seems to have become a lot more responsible. Perhaps I was a good influence. A trumpet sounds in the distance. It’s taken up by others. Time to eat, and rest. It’s just past midday and we’ll be halted for an hour or so. Rinderan and Anumaris both poke their heads through the canvas that separates the back of the wagon from the driver’s seat.
“Any new instructions?” asks Anumaris.
“Same as always. Look for anything strange.”
Rinderan frowns. “Anything strange is so vague. We’re in the midst of a huge marching army. It’s hard to know what’s strange and what isn’t.”
“Just keep your eyes and ears open. If you come across something really strange, you’ll recognise it.”
“How?”
“I don’t know. Deeziz hasn’t sent us instructions on how to find her. Just wander around, talk to people and see what you can learn.”