They’re worried they’re losing, Hanara thought, his heart lifting. They’re going to try retreating again. But this time Takado won’t let them go. He’ll chase them down.
A sound beside him threatened to drag his attention away. He saw someone in the corner of his eye, crawling closer. It could only be a slave. He resisted looking back.
“Hanara? Are you the one called Hanara?”
Annoyed, he glanced back quickly. It was one of Nomako’s slaves. Hanara grimaced.
“Yes. Why?”
“Message. For Takado. He requests Takado retreat. Nomako’s men are nearly exhausted.”
Hanara nodded. “I’ll tell him.”
As the other slave crawled backwards, Hanara edged forward, slowly closing the gap between himself and Takado.
“Master,” he called. “Master Takado.”
He waited, but Takado was rigid with concentration. In case his master hadn’t heard, he called again.
“What is it?” Takado snapped.
Hanara repeated what the slave said. Takado scowled, but said nothing.
“My people are signalling that they are tiring,” Asara said after a moment.
“But so are the Kyralians, I think,” Dachido said.
“Yes,” Takado agreed. “We are too closely matched.”
“It doesn’t matter if these Elynes are an hour away or half a day,” Asara said. “Even if we win here, they will find us exhausted and have no trouble finishing us off.”
Takado gave a low growl. “If they find us.”
“Look at their faces,” Dachido said, nodding towards the Kyralians. “They’re worried. Either they know the Elynes will arrive too late to save them, or they don’t yet know the Elynes are close by. Let them be the ones to retreat.”
Takado straightened. “We have only to bluff them. Intimidate them.” He smiled. “When the next group falter, turn all your power on them so none have a chance to seek shelter.”
The three allies fell silent. Hanara searched the enemy line, looking for groups that might be reaching the end of their combined strength. He noticed that one group did not appear to be striking.
“That one with the tall magician at the front,” he said, loud enough for his master to hear. “Are they attacking at all? Or just shielding?”
Takado looked in the right direction. “Ahhh,” he said. “We have our target.” He sent a streak of light towards the tall magician and his group. It scattered off a shield. Hanara saw the man turn to see who had attacked him, and turn grey with terror.
In the next moment, the five magicians in the group fell under a barrage of magical strikes. Not one of the group survived.
Hanara watched realisation and horror spread across the faces of the Kyralians. He realised he was giggling, and felt a rush of loathing at himself, followed by a contradictory pride. I found the target. Takado won’t forget that.
Then all smugness evaporated as several Sachakans fell, one after another. Looking in the direction of the attackers, he saw five magicians calmly separate and walk behind their neighbouring groups.
They expelled their last strength deliberately, so they could hide before anyone could kill them. He could not help admiring them for that. It’s this cool, calculating approach that makes them more formidable than they should be.
The Kyralians now stood in groups of ten to fifteen magicians. As Hanara watched, magicians in the king’s group shouted orders. The smaller groups moved together to form five larger groups.
But they did not retreat.
He looked up at Takado. His master’s teeth were set in a grimace. Hanara hoped nobody could see this but Asara and Dachido. Perhaps from a distance it looked like a smile. On either side, two more magicians fell.
Then the Kyralians began to back away.
Takado gave a cry of triumph. “At last!”
“Now we give chase?” Asara asked. “Not yet,” Takado said. “We must wait until they break into smaller groups.”
“But they’re not.”
Sure enough, the Kyralians were retreating in an ordered formation, protected by those still strong enough to shield the rest of the army.
Takado hummed in thought. “They’ll probably keep that up until they reach their horses. Then we might have our chance.” Asara drew in a sharp breath.
“Ah! I have an idea,” she said. Looking at Takado, she grinned. Then, as she told him, he also began to smile.
“A bold idea,” he said. “Go. Try it if you dare.”
She chuckled, then turned and sprang away from the fight.
It was growing clear that staring at the roof of the tent was not going to send Tessia back to sleep. Sighing, she turned on her side and looked at the other young women asleep on their pallets. Someone had decided that, now there were more female apprentices in the army, they should all share the same tent. There were five of them, not including herself, ranging in age from fourteen to twenty-five.
Is this really all the female apprentices in Kyralia? There must be more than seventy male apprentices, though she was not sure if that number had been skewed by magicians taking on new apprentices in order to strengthen themselves as preparation for war. How many women have magical talent, but never develop it? How many never know they have it?
She wondered why these particular girls had become apprentices. They were all a little frightened to find themselves at war, Tessia suspected. Even those who had been flippant, or enthusiastic about seeing a fight.
Yet nobody complained that we apprentices get to sit around waiting while our masters go off to fight.
Tessia felt a rush of apprehension. No magicians had died the last time, but that didn’t mean none would this time. Mistakes could be made. The Sachakans might not let the Kyralians retreat this time, if it came to that.
But at least she didn’t have to worry about Jayan. Once again, despite now being a higher magician, he’d been left in charge of the apprentices. He was a logical choice for the role, since he’d led them before and they all regarded him as a hero since “defeating” three Sachakans “all on his own” in the bol storehouse. She had to admit his solution had been clever, and admire his quick thinking.
And now the girls are even more inclined to swoon over him. She thought back to the previous night’s conversation with the female apprentices. They’ve started with Mikken, too, sighing over his tragic but brave escape from the pass, making his way back all alone, and rejoining the army when he could have gone back to Imardin. She smiled to herself. Still, you can’t help admiring him for that.
Tessia sighed. She was not going to fall back to sleep again. I may as well get up and see if I can make myself useful.
As quietly as she could, she rose and wrapped her blanket around her shoulders. Picking up her boots, she took them outside the tent and sat down on a box to pull them on. It was not quite the full darkness of night, nor the brightening gloom of dawn, but she could see figures pacing the boundary of the camp in the distance, and the pointed shapes of other tents. Fires glowed with dying embers. Lamps flickered, thirsty for oil.
Rising, she began to wander, no destination in mind. Just a circuit of the camp, she decided. The male apprentices either slept in their master’s tent, or had their own individual shelters. She passed a small group of them playing a game of some sort. They saw her and beckoned, but aside from smiling politely she ignored them and continued walking.