The Autumn Republic (9 page)

“When you’re ready,” Bo said. “Have you been practicing looking into the Else?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

“You can’t just give me a basic lesson?”

Bo turned toward her, mumbling something under his breath, then lay his hand out flat in his lap and said, “Pay attention. A Privileged manipulates five different elements within the Else; air, water, fire, earth, and aether. Your main hand” – he wiggled his fingers – “can be used to summon those elements from the Else into our world. Your off-hand is used to direct them.”

“If I lose a hand,” Nila asked, “do I lose all access to sorcery?”

“The Else can be manipulated fully with just one hand, or your off-hand, it’s just much harder. Now, each of your fingers corresponds to one of the elements and determines how strong you are in each element, starting with your forefinger for the strongest, and ending with your thumb as the weakest. Do you follow?”

Nila nodded. This was simple enough so far. “How do I know what I’m strongest in?”

“Trial and error. There’s no clear way of testing it without having you rub your fingers together all day and pointing your hands at things. Considering the power I sense in you, that’s not a terribly good idea in any population centers. We’re going to have to figure it out slowly.”

“Oh.” Nila felt a little disappointed. She wanted to know what she could do now.

“I
can
tell you,” Bo continued, “that you’re strongest in fire and weakest in aether.”

“And how do you know that?”

“When you make a fist, and the fire spreads up your arm, it happens because you’ve touched the Else and brushed your thumb and forefinger together. You haven’t used air to carry the flame anywhere or water to make it behave like liquid fire or your off-hand to direct the elements and so it clings to you like a scared kitten.” He smiled at his own analogy.

Fire. She was strongest in flame. She felt a little thrill go up her spine at the thought. “I understand the fire, but what about the aether? And how do you know it’s my weakest?”

“Almost everyone is weakest in aether, and that’s the thumb. Aether is used to create and destroy bonds between objects and elements, so think of it as an ignition source. It’s the spark that starts your sorcery. Thumb to forefinger to begin fire and then moving on down the spectrum.”

Nila moved her fingers experimentally, being sure not to let them touch. She examined her middle finger, wondering what power it held. “You said
almost
everyone is weakest in aether?”

“Yes. With some exceptions. The ones who are stronger tend to be healers, as they can knit the bonds between flesh, bone – even blood vessels and brain matter.”

“I could never be a healer?” It had been a hope Nila had held on to, despite knowing how rare healers were. After all, being a healer meant she could help people instead of killing them.

Bo gave a shrug. “You can develop some basic skill in healing, but it takes decades of study and practice. I try to brush up on it myself every once in a while for an emergency. I can cauterize a wound competently or remove a bullet without damaging the tissue. Simple stuff. Much more and I’d probably do more damage than good.”

“What are you strongest in?”

Bo gave a little chuckle. “Careful whom you ask that. It can be a grave insult.”

“What? I just… oh. I didn’t know.” How was that an insult? It was just a question.

“You couldn’t have known,” Bo said. “Privileged love secrets. We hoard them like a squirrel does nuts and share them only sparingly. One of those secrets is our strengths and weaknesses. Now, over time, a healer will become known as a healer, or a fire Privileged known to do fire. But at the beginning, when you’re most vulnerable as a person, you’ll want to keep that information close to you. It could save your life in a duel with another Privileged.”

“I see,” Nila said. Except she didn’t, really. Were all Privileged so mistrustful?

Bo held up his forefinger. “My strongest is air. Then water, fire, earth, aether.”

“Well, wait,” Nila said crossly. “Why would you tell me that after —”

“Because I trust you,” Bo interrupted her. “And because I’m confident in myself and I have enough of a reputation that most Privileged already know my strengths and weaknesses. Once people have heard of you and had a chance to ask around, it’s hard to keep that kind of thing a secret.”

“Then why is it considered rude to ask them directly?” Nila demanded.

“Because,” Lady Winceslav spoke up suddenly, “you’re implying that they’re fool enough to tell you something that could leave them open to attack. Try to think with that pretty head of yours, girl.” Lady Winceslav crossed her legs and turned back toward the window.

Nila stuck her tongue out at her. When she looked back at Bo, he’d already settled back into his corner of the carriage, his mind far away.

Nila thought of trying to start a conversation once more, but neither of her companions seemed to be in the mood to speak. Her window showed nothing but hillside for almost a quarter of a mile, so she turned to the attaché case of papers she still clutched in her hands.

She had read most of the requisition reports from before Taniel was captured by the Kez. With only a few pages to go, she leafed through them slowly, scanning each line.

She had always thought that quartermasters must have the dullest task in an army, but the way the numbers read on the lines was almost mesmerizing. She imagined that with more experience, she could read these numbers and know exactly how many infantry or cavalry an army had, or the tactical tastes of a particular general.

One line caught her eye about halfway down the page. She read it over a second time, then a third, checking the date.

“Bo…” she said.

“Hmm?”

“Has anyone mentioned Taniel’s movements the day before he was hoisted above the Kez camp?”

Bo scratched one of his muttonchops. “I talked to one of the camp cooks – the ones that used to be Mihali’s assistants. Taniel visited Mihali in the late afternoon.”

“Did they say why?”

“No. But I can take a guess. He’s bloody stupid enough to go after Kresimir alone. That’s the only way he would have been captured, after all. And he probably went to Mihali for advice.”

“And he would have left immediately for the Kez camp?”

“Search me.” Bo shrugged. “Why?”

“It must be nothing.” Nila flipped the page, reading through the requisitions and dates, but there were no more requisitions reported by Taniel. She felt her breath quickening suddenly. “Bo…”

“What is it?” he asked, shaking his head peevishly as if his thoughts had been interrupted.

“Do you remember me telling you what Colonel Etan had told me? About the two companies of soldiers Hilanska had sent to the mountains?”

“Yes, yes. Get on with it.”

She handed Bo the report. “Look at this requisition made by Taniel, about halfway down the page.”

“I see it.” He ran his eyes over it several times before saying, “This doesn’t make any sense. Why the bloody pit would Taniel requisition three hundred air rifles?”

Nila leaned forward. “Back when I was Tamas’s laundress, I overheard him say that all the air rifles in Adro had been locked up in an armory in Adopest with strict orders that only a powder mage could order them. Look at the time!” She thrust her finger onto the page. “This was four o’clock in the morning. It had to have been
after
Taniel was captured. The requisition was falsified in his name!”

“Oh, bloody pit,” Bo said. He pounded on the roof. “Stop the carriage! Stop it now!”

“What are you doing?” Lady Winceslav asked as the coach came to a halt.

“I need two horses,” Bo said.

“Done. What’s going on?”

Bo leapt out of the carriage. “A traitor would know Taniel had been captured and that they could falsify the report.”

“To what end?”

“If he thought that Tamas might return, perhaps. It doesn’t matter. Hilanska has sent his men, armed with air rifles, to hunt down Taniel.”

“How do you know?” Nila asked.

“Three hundred air rifles are enough to outfit two companies of Adran soldiers. Two companies sent into the mountains on Hilanska’s orders. If that’s a coincidence, I’ll eat my hat. I have to go.”

“I’m coming with you,” Nila said.

“No. Stay with the Lady. No one must slow me down. I’m going to rain fire and earth down on those two companies, and anyone near me will be torn apart.”

“Then why two horses?”

Bo tugged on his Privileged gloves. “So that when one drops dead beneath me, I can keep riding.”

A
damat waited with Brigadier Abrax as General Ket went over the documents he had brought.

They were in Ket’s personal tent. The guards outside had been dismissed. Ket slowly leafed through the documents, first reading the arrest warrant issued by Ricard Tumblar and the two judges in Adopest and then looking through the list of charges and evidence presented to the court in the case against her and her sister.

It must have been thirty minutes before she finally shuffled the papers together cleanly and set them on the table in front of her, leaning back. She looked from Adamat to Abrax and then back again.

“Do you deny these charges?” Adamat asked, glad to finally break the silence.

“I do not.”

That
was a surprise. “I was sent here to arrest you,” Adamat said.

“You understand the current situation?” Ket asked.

Beside Adamat, Abrax nodded. “Yes.”

“You expect me to recuse myself,” Ket said, “hand over command of my men to Hilanska, and go with you to Adopest?” Before Adamat could answer, she continued, “I won’t do that. Hilanska is a traitor. He intends on selling us all out to the Kez. Whatever it is that I’m guilty of, treachery is not one of those things.”

She had told them as much about Hilanska when they arrived, but had been unable to present evidence. She claimed that her own witness had been poisoned by one of Hilanska’s men.

“Actually,” Adamat said, “that’s not what we had in mind.”

Ket cocked an eyebrow, her first change of expression since they arrived. “Oh?”

“I’ve spoken to Lady Winceslav on your behalf,” Adamat said. “She agreed that whatever petty crimes you and your sister are guilty of are secondary to the safety of Adro. As a member of Tamas’s council, she has given me the authority to offer you an out.”

“And what could that possibly be?”

“You will immediately step down from command. Your sister will step down from command as well. You will be escorted to your estate in northern Adro, where you will have one week to put your affairs in order before you and your households will be exiled. You will be allowed a onetime stipend of one million krana, and your property will be confiscated by the state.”

Ket’s nostrils flared. “That is not an out. That’s a sentence.”

“One million is a lot of money,” Abrax said sternly. “Do you think Tamas will be so kind when he returns?”

“Tamas is dead.”

“He is not.” Abrax removed a letter from her pocket and handed it to Ket. “We received this communication just this morning. Tamas has crossed the Charwood Pile with the Seventh and the Ninth and sixty thousand Deliv infantry. He will be here in two weeks.”

Adamat felt his jaw drop. Tamas was alive? For certain? Why had Lady Winceslav not mentioned this? It changed everything!

Ket paled visibly. She took up the arrest warrant once more, her fingers shaking, and read it over thoroughly.

“I suggest,” Adamat said, “that you be sure to be out of the country by the time he arrives.”

“What of my men? Who will take command?”

“I will,” Abrax said.

“That is not legal!”

“And you are concerned about what is and isn’t legal?” Adamat asked lightly.

Ket rounded on Adamat. “I have covered for my sister’s crimes, yes. But I am still a general of the Adran army and I am a patriot. I will only take this ‘clemency’ ” – she spit the word as if it were poison – “on the condition that my men will be safe.”

“Your men will be placed under special command of the Wings of Adom,” Abrax said. “We will immediately send Hilanska a missive stating that you have been relieved and that your three brigades are under our employ – and protection – until Field Marshal Tamas returns to the field.”

Ket’s fingers drummed on the table and she stared hard at the air above Adamat’s head.

“General,” Adamat said, “this is the only way they will survive. Surely your scouts have told you that the Kez are already positioning themselves to attack tomorrow morning, and General Hilanska is positioning for a flanking maneuver.”

“More proof that he’s working with the Kez,” Ket said.

Adamat shared a nervous glance with Abrax. “Even if that’s true, he dare not attack once your brigades are under the Wings of Adom flag.”

Ket leapt to her feet suddenly. “All right! I agree. I relinquish command. I’ll take my sister and go. Just let me address the men one last time.” There was a note of appeal in her voice that hadn’t been there before, and Adamat could see she was in earnest.

Abrax met her gaze with steel in her eyes. “You will not have the chance to mend your reputation, Ket. Your men will know you as a thief and a liar.”

Anger and grief danced across Ket’s face – raw emotions of which Adamat wouldn’t have guessed her capable.

Slowly, Abrax stood, and with a sigh she added, “I will make certain they know that you stepped down with their best interests at heart.”

Ket’s only answer was a defeated nod.

Abrax clasped her hands behind her back and squared her shoulders. “General Ket,” she said, “you are relieved of command.”

Morning came with an unwelcome chill in the Wings of Adom camp.

Adamat stared, bleary-eyed, as Kez infantry began to form just within view, a couple of miles to the south. Their tan-and-green uniforms made them look like acres upon acres of fall wheat ready for the harvest. How many infantry did the Kez have left? Two hundred thousand? Three? Abrax’s scouts said that they’d brought up fresh levies from Budwiel during the night.

He jumped at the sudden blast of a cannon. Several more followed, and Adamat knew he should get used to the noise. For now it was just Abrax warning the Kez to keep their distance. It would get worse as the morning wore on and hundreds of cannons opened fire on every front.

Abrax stood beside him, looking out from their vantage on top of a hill where Ket’s command tent had been. Instead of the Kez, she was watching to the northeast.

“Any word?” Adamat asked.

The bulk of the Adran army, under Hilanska’s command, was hidden by the hills.

“We sent over thirty messengers throughout the night,” Abrax said, her voice raw. “At least ten of whom were shot on sight. I don’t know what Hilanska has told his men, but he has turned them against us completely. Lady Winceslav would have gone herself if I hadn’t prevented it.”

“Where is the Lady now?” Adamat asked. The Lady, along with twenty-six thousand Wings infantry, had joined them yesterday evening. They’d brought along news of the intercepted missive – Hilanska’s treachery. Adamat had hoped that at least Bo would be with them, but only Nila arrived. What good could a barely trained Privileged do?

“I sent her back to Adopest with a hundred of my best cavalry,” Abrax said. “I won’t let her die on the field.” There was a long silence as Abrax continued to watch the northeast, and then she said, “You’ve killed us all, Adamat.” There was no accusation or anger in the words. Just a dull acceptance.

The realization that they would all be slaughtered by nightfall descended on Adamat’s shoulders. He felt his chest tighten and forced himself to take slow, deep breaths. Hilanska was a traitor. He would attack the Wings of Adom, destroying both them and their three adopted brigades of Adran infantry, and then… what? Order his men to surrender to the Kez? Would they follow such an order? Or would the Kez simply swarm and slaughter them as well?

The Adran army would destroy itself, and then the Kez would be fresh to fight Field Marshal Tamas and the Deliv when they arrived.

It was absolutely hopeless. They were hemmed in with no possibility of escape. Abrax had ordered ditches dug and fortifications built. She was determined to make a last stand of it, but Adamat could see the stress lines on her face and the purple circles under her eyes from a sleepless night.

Abrax’s head twitched, and Adamat turned to follow her gaze. On the distant hills to the northeast, a horseman had appeared. It paused, watching them, and then Adamat saw the glitter of the sun off bayonets on the crest of the hill.

“They’re coming,” Abrax said.