Chapter 568: One Shall Follow the Other
One Shall Follow the Other
The next day's patrol proved as eventless yesterdays. It seemed the Khivans had retreated to lick their wounds, pulling further back and abandoning the immediate area to the Asterians. Neither Martel and Eleanor nor any of the patrols made by the regular legionaries saw any sign of the enemy. While Martel knew this would not last, it heartened him to know that something good had come from the assault upon the outpost.
The Khivan cannons were truly fearsome, and being trapped behind walls under assault from such monstrous weapons inspired dread in him, but at least their subsequent victory had bought them some days of peace. With luck, it would last until the end of summer. Once the trees lost their leaves and the days grew cold, fighting in the woods would slow down on its own accord.
***
Returning to the outpost, Martel and Eleanor trudged past those very cannons to reach their tent. After the battle, the three conquered weapons had been hauled into the camp to serve as a monument of their victory. Sitting atop one of them was Wulfstan. Seeing the returning mages, the spy jumped down with a smile. "Sir Martel, good to see you have returned in one piece. I hear you took my advice to conduct your patrols without any legionaries to slow you down."
Martel had forgotten about that conversation, though it did ring true. "Yeah. Thanks," he said as they walked past.
"Might you have a moment to spare? I should like to ask you some questions about the battle and specifically your heroic endeavour in destroying these weapons." He patted the barrel of the nearest cannon.
Martel gave Eleanor a look and a nod, indicating he would catch up to her. "What is it?" he asked of Wulfstan.
"Obviously, I have little understanding of magic. I was hoping you could explain to a layman how exactly you were able to destroy the cannons. I have been told you did this without casting any visible spell, and such knowledge could prove very useful."
Martel had not considered this; he had assumed any battlemage would be able to reach out and destroy metal heated by fire. It only occurred to him now that perhaps he was an exception, being fire-touched. "I suppose I can try. Magic can be used in two ways, roughly speaking." That excluded other traditions, such as Sindhian or Tyrian, but Martel figured that would be unnecessarily complicated to explain, nor did he see a reason to say more than needed. "Either a spell drawn directly from my body as its point of origin." He summoned flames to surround his hand briefly and let them disappear again. "Or a connection between myself and some other point that I wish to affect." He conjured a flame in the air between him and Wulfstan, who blinked in surprise.
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"An interesting explanation, and you put it in terms that are easy to understand. What confuses me is that these cannons are made from solid metal. I might expect a metalmage to be able to influence them, but how could you do this as someone attuned to fire?"
"I probably can't under normal circumstances. Not now." Martel reached out to let a finger run along the cool bronze of the barrel. "But once that cannon has fired a hundred times, the barrel becomes blazing hot. I can't do much with metal, but fire I can shape."
"Fascinating. I appreciate your time and explanation, Sir Martel."
The battlemage gave a curt nod and continued. He wondered why the spy wanted to know; obviously, lacking any magical talent, he could not make use of this knowledge personally. Reaching his tent, he found Eleanor seated outside. Seeing him approach, she extended her hand holding a letter. "This arrived for you today."
Eagerly, Martel grabbed it and opened the envelope.
My dear boy,
Your niece bears the name of Tora. At first, I felt reluctant about it. It seemed an ill omen to saddle a newborn child with. But your brother thought it only right, and Father Julius has assured me that no evil fate is tied to the name. And with Master Ogion present, there is little danger that we shall ever suffer famine again. And she is a sweet child, growing fast. I have already told her about her uncle, the powerful wizard who protects our home and keeps us safe. I dearly hope you will be able to meet her soon.
Father Julius is very pleased with John, so much that he might recommend him for the clergy. I never really imagined any of my children would join the priesthood, but I never imagined any of them would become a mage either. I just hope that if John really ends up going to the seminar, he will be able to find a posting close to home.
As for William, I will not even get into it. Juliet is doing so well as a brewster, I could not be prouder. Everybody in Engby praises her ale, except the hatmaker, but only because he is offended that she spurned his son, and I told him as much. Father Julius is giving me a disapproving look as I say this, but he better write it exactly as I tell him.
Mira has been moping about since the wedding. Not because she is upset about that, but a boy from a neighbouring village apparently has yet to visit, even though he claimed he would. I told her that I did not wish to know, but I certainly hope another wedding would not already be on the horizon. I have yet to recover from the last one, and until Tora begins sleeping through the night, I probably will not.
Write soon and tell me more. I received your letter about your posting. Such a shame it could not be up north. Are you well? What do they feed you in a camp like that, down south? Be sure to treat this Eleanor girl politely with all the trouble she has looking after you.
Love,
Your mother
"Good news?" Eleanor asked from outside the tent.
"My niece will be called Tora," Martel replied. "And my mother tells me to treat you nicely."
"She sounds like a wise woman."
Smiling, Martel folded the letter together and placed it under his pillow.
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