Page 114 of An Archer's Reckoning

The man had never looked more than thirty, maybe thirty-five, but dark, heavy bags dragged against the skin under his weary eyes.

I looked fresh, as though I’d spent the past week on holiday without a care in the world. My velvety cerulean robe bore none of the sweat, smoke, or dirt evident on the General’s cloak.

I rose and stepped across the Eye, offering a small flask to the General. “Drink this. You look like you need it.”

Vre glared at the flask. “What is it?”

“Somethingour guestbrought with him. I can assure you of two things: First, it will revive your body and spirit. Second, all other drink will be spoiled after one sip.” I grinned with my last words.

Vre shrugged, eyeing me, then took a tentative sip. His eyes shot open, and a broad smile parted his lips. “Sweet Spirits, that’s Amnelian brandy!”

I tilted my head, brows raised. “Brandy? That is odd. It was Drean wine when I drank it.”

“I don’t care if it’s horse piss at this point; I felt the soreness leaving my muscles after just a sip.” He downed the flask, leaving me gaping at the rapid loss of the precious liquid. “How much of this do we have? I can’t tell you what this would do for our men.”

I spread my hands wide. “I am afraid there is very little, maybe enough to fill a bottle. Declan brought it in his waterskin, but that is not why we are here. Back to the note.”

Guildmaster Burner rarely spoke first, generally preferring to watch Vre and me squabble before offering an opinion—but matters of spy craft and deception were his purview, though few outside the chamber knew it. He was more commonly viewed as a bumbling, old fool, a cover that served him well when seeking to maintain a false identity.

“Velius, the man who brought me that note has been my agent for years. He is a close friend, known to my entire family. He was no doubt chosen because of that relationship, and I believe we should assume the message came from the High Chancellor, as it states.” He fiddled with his fingers a moment, eyes darting between his peers. “As to thecontentsof the note, I have no idea whether they can be trusted. You would know better than either of us.”

I climbed the step to take my seat, then unrolled the tiny scroll and read its message for the hundredth time. The only thingI knew for certain was that reading it again didn’t offer any additional surety or comfort.

“We have to decide the fate of our people on an educated guess. That is what our rule has come to, gambling the lives of our people on the flip of a coin.” I tossed the note on the side table and covered my face with one hand. “If they stay here, many will die. We know what happened to the Rangers. So few are left.”

“What of the boy?” Vre asked.

“Declan cannot hold off the bombardment forever. I had hoped he could buy us enough time to wreck their supply lines or starve them into retreating, but they have too many men and their security is too tight. I have losteveryMage I sent behind their lines. Those remaining who possess offensive talents are spent. This will turn into a battle of arms the moment our magic fails, and weknowhow that will go.”

I looked from Burner to Vre. “At least this gives some of our people a chance to live, to find a new life somewhere, maybe in the border kingdoms—if she stops at our borders.”

“But if it’s a trap . . .” Burner said.

“And if our people refuse to leave . . . They’re only giving us one day to organize the evacuation of a half million people. Can we even do it?” I asked Vre. While I was the master where magic reigned, the General was the principal where logistics held sway.

“We have to try. I will pull every man back to help move the people. Ceryl, you have to get the word out through your Merchants, but balance the message between urgency and order. We can’t handle a riotanda siege at the same time.” Vre stood. “Gentlemen, everything in war is a risk. Sitting here all night won’t change the facts, and Velius is right. The people will die if they stay here. I vote we evacuate and hope the High Chancellor is true to his word.”

“The Merchants concur,” Burner said as he stood.

My head turned upward, as if I prayed to the oculus in the ceiling. My voice was barely a whisper. “Spirits guide us. The Mages vote aye.”

Chapter 45

Velius

The sun stood at its peak when I nodded to a pair of Mages stationed at the eastern wall. The man and woman in billowing blue robes muttered words in our ancient language. The man’s Gift turned the pristine snow murky, while the woman’s power vaporized it. A dense fog spread for miles along Saltstone’s eastern edge.

The woman’s skill was magnificent as she created a tunnel of clear air that followed the path carved in the countryside by the road. If Chancellor Thorn was playing some trick and planned to capture or kill our people as they fled, at least he would have a hard time seeing them while doing it. While the enemy might not see through the haze easily, our people wouldn’t have trouble finding their way forward.

I looked over my shoulder at the endless mass of civilians waiting for the signal to abandon their city, to abandon their homes. My heart ached for them, but I took solace knowing at least they would survive the battle to come.

I surveyed the boys and men manning the towers and wall, each proudly sporting Melucia’s navy blue. Their heads tilted upward as they offered confident smiles and waves to the people as they passed beneath. These poor men hadn’t seen the army camped on the other side of the capital or their counterparts on the western wall who struggled to keep their heads upturned. There was very little hope for any of them, even if they didn’t know it yet.

“Arch Mage.” A youthful voice caused me to turn. “General Vre needs you, sir.”

I nodded absently, then patted one of the Mages on the shoulder. “Nice work today. Please stay here and see these people away safely. If you need to spend all of your magic, do it. The soul of Saltstone flees through these gates today.”

The Mage blinked, then bowed deeply. “Yes, Arch Mage.”

---