“What weapons have you used? Besides your magely skills, that is?” asked one of the majers.
“I’m not one for the blade,” Kharl admitted. “Cudgel and staff.”
One of the other majers sniffed, but did not speak as the first majer asked, “How many men have you killed, mage, that is, with your weapons, not magery?”
Kharl didn’t care much for the majer’s tone, or the unspoken condescension of the other majers, but he fingered his chin before replying, thinking about Tyrbel’s assassin, about the very first white wizard and his guards, and about the pirates. “I can’t say for certain. I know about five for sure, before the battle here.”
“The mage is being modest,” Hagen interrupted. “Against the pirates alone, he took out ten men with his staff.”
Kharl reflected once more. If he counted the deaths of the men killed on the ridge by the white wizard’s efforts to stop him, then the total was doubtless several score.
“Would you agree with Lord Hagen’s assessment?” asked Vatoran, a slight smile without humor lifting the corners of his mouth.
“Lord Hagen may have seen more than I did. He had a better vantage, and he is more familiar with fighting and warfare,” Kharl said. “I was just doing the best I could.” He took a bite of the meat-boar, he thought-and a mouthful of the flavorful dark bread. Then he tried a dumpling, surprisingly delicate, with a plumlike flavor.
“The mage cleared the deck of one vessel,” Hagen explained, “but he lost two toes and cracked his ribs in a number of places.”
“What about-”
“I think we can dispense with more questions about the mage’s familiarity with weapons and fighting,” Vatoran interjected, turning back to Kharl. “Did you see much of the fighting before the day that you bested the wizards and Ilteron?”
Hagen gave the slightest of nods to Kharl.
“I had not realized that the fighting had begun,” the mage replied. “I was in the town, looking for somewhere to eat, and I went into a café. There were four lancer officers there, and they were eating and drinking, and talking about the fighting…about how close the rebels were to Dykaru-”
“…must be some mistake…”
“…sure they wore the green and black?”
“They were in the green and black,” Kharl affirmed, “and when I left, I saw a wagon filled with wounded, and the teamster was complaining that he’d lost his way and that his captain didn’t seem to know much about where the battle was or how to direct the teamster…” Kharl took a swallow of ale before continuing. “That was what I saw and heard before we got into battle the next day.”
Vatoran nodded as if to himself before continuing. “I’d be most curious, mage, as to why you risked your life for Lord Ghrant. You don’t have to speak to that, if you don’t want to, of course. It’s enough that you acted, whatever the reason.”
“I’m not sure that it is, commander,” Kharl found himself saying. “I used to think that myself. I was a cooper. No secret about that. So long as I made good barrels, didn’t matter to me why I made them. But it did.” He shrugged. “I found that out. Heard enough about Ilteron and had seen enough of Lord Hagen to realize there was a difference. Didn’t get to make a difference in Nordla, but I had a chance in Austra. That’s why.”
“But you are not Austran,” Vatoran pointed out.
“Lord Hagen’s acts had made it clear that right is right. Wrong is wrong. Doesn’t matter where. If you only protect what’s yours, and everyone does that, then wrong usually wins, and right loses. In the end, you do, too.”
Vatoran looked as though he wanted to reply to that, but, instead, the commander frowned, then asked, “How did you get into battle?”
“Lord Hagen thought that I might be of some use in making sure that Lady Hyrietta and the heirs were safe…” Kharl went on to tell about the battle, but avoided any exact details about what magery he had used, only saying, “I managed to use what I knew about order to block their firebolts and imprison them in a web of order. That killed the two wizards and Ilteron. Then I dragged Lord Ghrant off the ridge and managed to get him onto a mount. It took a long time to get him back to the harbor.”
“In the middle of the battle?” Vatoran’s eyebrows lifted.
“That part of the battle was pretty near over. At least, no one was fighting there right then, and no one was looking at a carpenter dragging and carrying a wounded man. They were still worried about the firebolts on the top of the ridge.” While what Kharl said was true-no one had been looking at them because they couldn’t have seen them-the evasion of truth bothered him, but he didn’t want to reveal exactly what he had done.
“And you just rode to the harbor?”
“What he says is true,” Hagen interjected in a calm voice. “We were on the Seastag, and we saw a rider come up the pier with a figure over the saddle before him. Until he dismounted, we didn’t realize that it was the mage with Lord Ghrant.”
“It took a long time,” Kharl added. “I couldn’t get there directly.” That had been absolutely true.
“I see. What did you notice about the foot and lancers in the battle that we should know?”
“Some of them-Lord Ghrant’s men who held the little stone pavilion on the south side-they were brave and well-ordered. They were holding the pavilion even against the one mage until I killed him. There were others who ran and fled from the white wizards before I got there. More of them were in green and black, but there were some in yellow and black. Lord Ilteron’s forces withdrew a number of rods when I was battling the last white wizard, but I didn’t see any of them breaking or running.” Kharl shrugged. “That’s what I saw. I wasn’t looking at the lancers and foot, though. I was trying to stop the wizards and find Lord Ghrant and Ilteron.”
“Did you see any standards or banners…”
“Did you see any other rebel livery besides the blue…”
“What about cannon…”
Kharl replied to the questions as well as he could, even if most of his answers were negative. In between questions and answers, he kept eating.
After a time, Hagen cleared his throat. Loudly.
“I think the mage has been most forthcoming. It is most clear to me, both from what I saw and from what the mage and others have reported, that we have a solid task ahead of us if we are to be successful in halting other attempts by Hamor to weaken Austra.” Hagen’s smile to the officers was polite, but far from warm as he stood and nodded to Kharl.
Kharl stood and inclined his head to the commander. “My best to you, ser, and I trust I have not disturbed you too greatly, but I could only report on what I saw and experienced. I know too little about lancers to say anything but what I saw.”
“I am certain that is so, mage.” Vatoran had risen, as had the majers, and he inclined his head in response.
Kharl followed Hagen out and down the corridor.
The lord-chancellor said nothing until they were back in a small study or library, where both walls were filled with shelves brimming with leather-bound volumes. Hagen closed the door, but made no move to seat himself at the black oak desk. “That will do.”
“I don’t think they were happy with my words,” Kharl said.
“They weren’t supposed to be. I wanted them to know that more than a few people understood that some of the lancers had not responded well. Eating in town while the fighting was going on.” Hagen snorted. “Running from battle while others fought…”
“Was that why you did not see eye to eye with Lord Ghrant before?”
“Something like that.”
“Is there anything else you’d like from me?” asked Kharl.
Hagen laughed. “Just be polite and mysterious for the next few days, until you meet with Lord Ghrant, and then we’ll talk about what you’d like to do next.”
Kharl understood that, too. He wasn’t going to get a direct answer until something else happened, probably between Hagen and Lord Ghrant.
XC
About midmorning on threeday, a youngster in a yellow tunic with black cuffs appeared at Kharl’s door, with a neatly folded set of garments in his arms.