Safety Bicker

"Pipe down, Brochwel, you don't have to shout. We're right here."

Tecca looked up at him, a furrowed brow from her discussion with Silvester relaxing only a little. The researcher turned away from her, horns held high and aloof.

"Did I interrupt something?"

"Oh nothing much, just a certain someone being ungrateful for being rescued."

Silvester harrumphed. "I'm not ungrateful. If you knew what I've learned over decades of research, you would work to stamp it out too."

The two of them folded their arms and refused to look at each other.

Emma looked up from a piece of bread and volunteered, "Tecca wants a bunch of new embedded warriors, like more of you. Teach knows that magic makes people compliant like they're just weapons and says no."

"Irresponsible girl," Silvester grumbled. "Embedding is as vile as imbuing. A different kind of human sacrifice."

Tecca growled, "Foolish old man. Brochwel is right there. He defied his commanders and betrayed his order."

"He was only able because several generations of Tragaronese practitioners withheld crucial teachings from their apprentices. Brochwel's stone is a degenerated version."

"Thanks, Emma." Brochwel looked across the fire at the two and sighed. "Can the person who has experienced having a rock in his face chime in?"

They both objected, talking over each other such that nothing coherent could be made out.

"Noted," Brochwel said. "Embedding creates fighters who can't dismount or disarm of their own accord. Probably made sense millennia ago when desert tribes fought each other and all one had to do was kill a hundred-ish people to completely wipe out the enemy. That doesn't work anymore. Kirrglos can win without resorting to embedding anyone. Strategy will be enough. I'll tell you how, but I need to gather my words and have a bite to eat. Is there any bread left?"

Emma held out a remainder of bread with an apologetic look. "Sorry."

The escape party was originally planned to be just three people, so the food had gone faster than expected. The horses had it even worse, as they were supposed to have been left in the city, and had eaten through the last of their feed that morning. Brochwel didn't know the distance remaining to Kirrglos, but had a rough guess, and going hungry for a day might be in the cards, but starvation wasn't. As for the cold and rain, however, those might still be problems.

They rested a few hours, trying to sleep under the ceaseless clatter of the rain on the roof above and rumbling thunder. Brochwel and then Tarquin took watch while the others dozed. This section of the road remained quiet. Brochwel offered the empire quiet thanks for keeping the road closed to normal merchant traffic during their war preparations. A booming lightning strike on the roof nearby woke them.

Setting off, they elected to walk the horses rather than riding them to the end of the road. They fell into a comfortable, but quick walking pace. The road was cold but dry beyond the cupola, overwhelming the little heat emitted by their torches.

"So what's this strategy of yours?" Tecca then shot a smug glance at Silvester. "But next time Brochwel please tell me you're going to make the old man irrelevant before we rescue him."

Silvester didn't dignify that with a reply. Emma however ...

"Hey, you leave Teach alone!"

"Hold the bickering, please." Brochwel pressed on. "Silvester, you mentioned something about dispelling or weakening this storm we're under. Can I take that to mean you've studied quite a bit of elemental casting, since the storm is elemental?"

"Extensively."

"Good." Brochwel nodded to himself. "You're also the first mage I've ever seen control a flock or swarm on their own. I propose that you, and possibly Emma, focus on teaching Kirrglos's soldiers advanced magic."

"At best that will only give us a minor edge," Tecca grumbled.

"That's where strategy comes in." Brochwel raised his torch. "Consider this road ..."

"I was trying not to." Tecca's tail gave an irritable swish. "It's part of Rhosaire's grand project to unite the continent and 'prepare for the next sorcerer'."

"Then they have fundamentally misunderstood," Silvester said. "Sorcerers appear after a hegemony is established, not on some timetable. By expanding their empire they guarantee the arrival they fear."

Brochwel realized now that Tecca seemed not to have let Silvester in on the whole new-magic-called-enchanting thing. Well, it wasn't his business who the old researcher chose as his apprentice. Besides, if she had trained under him, would Tecca have met this mysterious new sorcerer? The fact that Tecca had trusted Brochwel with that knowledge but kept it from the fellow she had once wanted to be her teacher ... put a thin smile on his face.

"As I was saying, this road—"

"And what do you know about sorcerers?"

"Everything," said Silvester.

"Oh?" Tecca took a mocking tone. "Bet you wouldn't know if you met one."

"I most certainly would!"

Then Emma and Tarquin joined in too. Maybe Brochwel should let them have this. The last few days had been so stressful, and the empty road was safe and dry under the rain. Safe enough to squabble.

They got so into it that Brochwel had to nudge them to the side as they passed some carpenters coming back the other way. Some puzzled glances were exchanged along with greetings, but the one guard escorting the workers shrugged and muttered something about how anyone out here must have approved by someone who could fire him on the spot.

Every mile the road stretched (double-wide so two carts could pass without slowing) bought them more time out of the rain and brought them closer to safety. But sometime soon enemy soldiers would benefit from this same shortcut. For now the road needed guarding only from the elements. Brochwel admired the red columns and lacquered fittings. The road through the storm was a marvel.

Be a shame if something happened to it.

By the time they reached the ragged, mid-construction end of the road and encouraged the horses to jump down into the water, the conversation had taken a lighter turn:

"We ate that stale prison food sooooo long. Teach, what should we have first? I'm thinking summer berry pie or—" Before Silvester could answer, Emma's eyes brightened. "Wait! Teach, do you think there could one day be a sorcerer of cooking? Like, magic cooking that makes even the green veggies delicious?"

"Green veggies are already delicious. And no, I don't think so. For there to be a cooking sorcerer, there would first need to be a cooking hegemony to oppose."

"Hegemon ... always need? Who imbuing and embedding sorcerers? Witching sorcerer no war."

Silvester placed Emma in front of him on the saddle with an ease Brochwel hadn't expected from a scholar. "Those first two are so ancient we've yet to find a surviving record. Witching is a hoax, not a real—"

"Is real. Silvester dumb."

"Guys, could we keep talking about food? Or perhaps wine?"

Brochwel volunteered to walk this time. Icy water shocked him at first, but with the lightness of the rain, he guessed they were nearer the edge of the plateau now. Sloshing along in almost the same direction the water flowed, listening to the argument over what they should argue about, a rhythm settled over him as his thoughts scouted ahead. Silvester was old enough he shouldn't be on a battlefield, Emma too young. Tarquin could use a little training on hitting a moving target, but having somebody who could fight and do emergency medicine in pinch would be great. As for Tecca ... she might have other plans, but Brochwel would make sure she heard his offer.

His legs were almost too numb to function when they heard the roar of the waterfall and splashed their way to a wedge of rock that jutted out from the current. The lake glittered below in the evening light, its waves cut by a small boat patrolling the shore. And maneuvering that craft: personnel in Kirrglosian uniform. As Tecca waved the boat over, Brochwel already knew what he would tell ... whoever was actually going to assign him to a unit.