But, Dardas mused, sipping more of his drink, who did she mean to please?
He let himself chuckle aloud. Judging character was a talent every commander needed.
"If I have amused," she said, carefully, "I hope I have not also offended."
He shook his head. "No. Neither." He slung himself into a seat, putting his bare feet up, taking a deliberately relaxed posture. "It's ... Raven. Right?"
"Yes, General."
"They got you here quick enough."
'Traveling by portal is definitely expedient, sir."
Dardas nodded. "A bit unnerving, though, didn't you think? Or maybe you've got guts made of metal."
"It doesn't take nerve to go through a portal, General," Raven said. "It only takes the willingness to obey one's orders. My orders said to go through, sir."
Dedicated, indeed.
"How good a wizard are you?" he asked, bluntly.
At last a look of hesitation crossed her otherwise stoic face. "My training is incomplete."
"That I know. Answer my question." But he didn't say it too sharply.
"I can perform, successfully and consistently, only the simplest spells we were being taught at the Academy." Her eyes flickered downward. "I... I am not of the caliber of those who serve you here in the field."
Dardas took another swallow from his glass. "What is your favorite spell?"
"Sir?"
He waved. "Not the one you were best at, or tried the hardest to master. Which one did you like to do the very most?"
Raven, a bit taken aback, nonetheless considered. She was about to answer.
Dardas cut her off. "No. Don't tell me. Show me."
She frowned, deepening the normal dour look on her chubby face. If she could learn to smile, he judged, she might just be on her way to being passably attractive.
He watched, interested, as she looked about the tent. He had a lamp burning, but there was a candle stub on the small table on which he was resting his feet. He had been examining maps earlier.
Raven drew a long, deep breath. Dardas eyed her young breasts as they pushed outward. She was concentrating, gathering herself, much as Kumbat had in this same tent only a short while ago.
Dardas's eyes moved to the unlit candle, which Raven's own gaze was now fastened to.
Suddenly, a large curl of flame erupted around the wick. A spark leapt off, touching Dardas's bare foot.
"Sorry, General!" she said, suddenly fearful.
Dardas chuckled again, slapping casually at his foot. "What for, girl? That was good. I've witnessed acts of magic in this army that I never in all my years expected to see. Amazing feats. But, I tell you now, it's the little things that impress me most."
She looked perplexed.
Dardas continued. "I've seen this entire army, every last man, woman, wagon, and spear, moved through those portals. It's incredible. Mind-boggling, in fact. But, somehow, you can't really believe in it. It just seems too impossible to be happening, even with the evidence right before your eyes."
He nodded toward the candle. The flame had steadied. "Now, that is something I can believe in. You made it happen. I saw you do it. And even though I don't understand how you accomplished it, I can believe. Understand?"
He watched her carefully. He saw her digesting his words. When he saw the faintest tickle of a smile pull at her mouth, he knew he had his first victory.
"Yes, General. I think I see."
He smiled back.
"That's all for now, Raven. We'll talk again, when I have time. Get some sleep."
She exited the tent. He called his aide again as he reexamined the maps. Trael was still some days of marching away, if he didn't order the portals to be used. Naturally, he had advance scouts, mages among them, who were reporting directly to him (and probably to Matokin as well) by Far Speak about any signs of organized resistance ahead.
There was nothing to speak of, just small local militaries desperately and futilely preparing against the coming onslaught. No great army rising in the path of his forces.
It offended Dardas's sensibilities. What was he going to have to do, create an enemy worthy of standing against him?
"Damned Isthmusers," he muttered.
"General?" The aide was still waiting.
Dardas waved it off. He gave his instructions. The newly arrived fledgling wizard, Raven, was to be groomed and given something flattering to wear. Mages weren't required to dress in uniforms, but they all seemed to opt for those dreary dark robes. The next time Dardas saw her, he wanted Raven to look more presentable.
The aide didn't even blink, simply acknowledging the orders. Weisel had proven himself to be an able military commander; he'd earned the respect of his officers.
His eyes fell again to the maps. Trael. There he was going to have to take drastic actions once more, as he had at Udelph. This time it would be even worse, though. U'delph had merely been obliterated.
But, as Dardas knew from a lifetime of warfare, there were worse things than death.
AQUINT (3)
AQUINT DIDNT LIKE the portals. He hadn't liked stepping into one when the Felk army had attacked U'delph, and he didn't like how frequently they were used here at the warehouse.
But Far Movement was a great way to move goods. If he'd had access to this kind of magic for his freight business in Callah, he would have been rich enough to get by as a strictly legitimate business
owner.
He chuckled to himself at the thought. No, probably not. He just wasn't the legitimate type, not as a civilian, and not as a soldier.
He double-checked a manifest for a shipment that was going out to a village where the Felk had a small garrison. Occupying the conquered territories of the Isthmus was quite a drain on military personnel, but General Weisel was no doubt on his way to capturing yet another city-state, from which fresh conscripts would help fill out the ranks.
Aquint didn't follow the war news much. He was glad, certainly, to be out of the fighting. Here in the warehouse, he was back in his rightful element.
That element, of course, was crime. Within the first days of his assignment here, he had successfully "cracked" the theft ring plaguing this warehouse. The officer who was the quartermaster was very pleased, and had given Aquint a citation, which he accepted with humility.
Immediately afterward, Aquint implemented a new, much more efficient theft ring, using Vahnka's agents. They were now smuggling out of the warehouse only those choicest items that could turn the best and fastest profit. Everybody was happy, even the quartermaster, who accepted these small losses as inevitable, but who was well pleased with the overall reduction in pilferage.
Aquint even found being an officer tolerable. Once he'd completed his undercover assignment, he had assumed his new rank openly. Officers enjoyed privileges he hadn't known during his time as a simple soldier. He had good food, good wine. He kept the warehouse running smoothly, and nobody bothered him much.
It seemed like a stable situation. Let the rest of the Isthmus worry about the war. He had carved himself a cozy little niche here.
Suddenly, a patch of wavy air appeared in the middle of the warehouse. Aquint automatically retreated a step. It was a portal opening. He frowned. This was unscheduled.
The man who stepped out of the Far Movement portal was tall, lean, and dressed importantly. The wizards who were assigned to the warehouse all bowed respectfully, including the Far Movement and Far Speak mages who had handled this end of the portal—all without prior clearance from Aquint. That boded ill. He didn't like the idea of anyone dropping in unannounced.