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Shadows in the Smoke - 40 - Alarm Bells

  Shadows in the Smoke - 40 - Alarm Bells

  “The integration of the Republic’s Talented into its army has helped it to become one of the foremost fighting forces in the world. After the disaster of the Battle of Grathbridge, the way in which our Talented soldiers support their fellow Citizens was thoroughly reexamined. Now, rather than operating semi-independently, our Cantrists and Arcanists are integral parts of their units with all of the benefits that that brings.”

  The Struggle for Freedom by Bjarne Midthun

  =====

  Ester was standing on one of the fort’s higher platforms, a small balcony protruding out of the hillside, looking out over the snowy land between them when someone coughed behind her.

  She jumped and spun, only to come face to face with Arcanist-Captain Loga. The short blonde man’s arm was in a sling and his coat bulged slightly around his ribs, presumably because of bandages.

  “Ah, Mage Mazar, I, uh, didn’t mean to surprise you. Please excuse me.”

  Ester forced herself to calm down and to ignore the surge of energy running through her.

  “Not at all, Arcanist-Captain, there is nothing to apologise for. Did you want something?”

  He sighed deeply before replying. “I just wanted to say thank you. I didn’t really get the chance to before with everything and I’ve only just been let out of the infirmary.”

  A brief flash of guilt ran through Ester, maybe she should have visited him there. But then, he’d never shown any signs of liking her, it wasn’t like they were friends or anything. In fact, he had rather more reason to dislike her, just because of where she was from. He was probably only here because he felt obliged to be. Although if her father had been killed fighting them, she wasn’t sure that she’d feel any more magnanimous towards the Republicans.

  “Oh. Well, it was nothing you would not have done for me, I am sure. I am just glad to see that you are back on your feet and recovering.”

  Something flickered across Loga’s face too quickly for her to work it out. “Yes, I suppose so. But still, you saved my life and then risked your life again to make sure that I was able to get back to the fort. If not for you, I’d have died heroically for the Republic. Not such a bad fate I suppose,” he chuckled dryly, “but one that I hope to put off for at least a little bit longer.”

  It took Ester a moment to realise he was making another joke. Did all soldiers have such a dark sense of humour? There was nothing funny about dying. Heroically or otherwise.

  She offered him a tentative smile. “Maybe next time you can save me from dying heroically for the Empire.” Would he find it funny? She nearly didn’t say it, but something made her keep talking. “Or worse, the Republic. That would be really difficult to explain to the people at home.”

  For a moment Loga didn’t reply and then his lips split into a grin that grew into a full-on belly laugh.

  “Hahaha! That’s a very good point. If you find yourself about to die, make sure you take your coat off so that it’s clear.”

  Why would she take off her coat? Was it because it was from a Republican uniform? Ester gave a nervous chuckle. “Indeed.”

  “Heh.” Loga seemed to still be pleased with his own joke. “Anyway, I just wanted to thank you. To be entirely honest, I despise the Empire and I felt the same about you as its representative, but you’ve shown you’re not the same. Don’t think that I’m not grateful or that I don’t see the effort you put in. Personally, I don’t think there can ever truly be peace between the Republic and the Empire, but if more people from the Empire were like you… well, who knows what might happen.”

  He gave a short, sharp bow and turned to leave before Ester could gather her thoughts enough to come up with a reply to that. She was left standing there, staring after him trying to work out what to make of Loga and the odd conversation. It was difficult to know what to think when people said things that sounded positive but with a back-handed bite to them.

  She faced outwards once more as her thoughts churned, trying to work out what to make of the Republicans and their odd ways of thinking.

  =====

  Velxe hummed to himself as he ambled along Liberty Avenue, his guide who definitely was not a Republican government spy, staying close to his side. Sometimes things just worked out nicely and his time here in Nilrava was one of them. He had already made a number of advantageous deals for House Rutane and he had not even the slightest doubt that more were to come.

  Some of what the Republic was doing was incredible. Their steam engines and factories were producing goods at rates that the Empire’s artisans could not hope to compete with. That was a worry and one that he would be making very sure his uncle paid attention to, but it was a worry for another time.

  For now, House Rutane was going to make an absolute killing out of the thawing of relations with the Republic. Rather than having to smuggle goods across the border, with all of the costs that entailed, they could trade openly and freely. Well, subject to appropriate taxation and so on. They had a reputation for lawfulness to uphold after all.

  His next meeting was going to be lunch with a cloth merchant. The price of cloth produced by their Spinning Gjertrudes was unbelievably low and the Republic was desperate for the resources the Empire could produce. Wood, coal, iron ore and most of all grain. The Republican war effort demanded all of those and more to feed their factories and keep their armies in the field.

  House Rutane and, through it the Empire, could grow fat and rich on the Republic’s need. A group of worn-down looking workers trooped past, their faces dour and their clothing cheap. Velxe felt a small stab of guilt at the sight. Ester would say that it was every decent person’s duty to fight the undead, or something similarly naive. Not that she was wrong, obviously. But she did not always fully understand the realities of the world and got ever so irritable when he tried to explain them. It was endearing really, but she was lucky. Her Talent and her title meant that she could afford to believe in those things. She did not need to scrabble for power against other Great Houses or worry about her family’s finances. If she wanted to, she could live a life of comfort, luxury and complete independence with a couple of hours’ work a day making Schemas.

  He smiled to himself at the thought. She would probably go mad with boredom and go off and find some criminals to catch within a day or two.

  As for him. Well, Velxe needed to live in the real world, but that did not mean he had to be a bad person. House Rutane would make a killing on the trade deals he was setting up, but they would be bringing vital resources to the Republic. More soldiers would survive and fewer Citizens would go hungry because of House Rutane. Why should they not be well paid for that? It was not like the Empire and the Republic were allies.

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  He would need to find out what his latest contact really wanted and how much the man would pay for it. That was just business, and they would be doing it over an excellent lunch in one of the best restaurants in Nilrava. The Republican dress sense might have been drab, but they knew how to make a good meal.

  Velxe walked with a slight bounce in his step. Good food and matching his wits against someone, what more was there to life? If he could only persuade the Republicans to let him have access to their People’s Library, there would be virtually nothing else he could want in the world.

  His mind went back to Ester, again. Hopefully she was alright. She was probably thoroughly enjoying going and playing at soldiers on the front lines and would come back with all kinds of wild stories. If he thought about it, she might well be exactly where she wanted to be too. Still, he would bet good money he was eating better than she was.

  =====

  Ester jerked awake, groping for consciousness. What was going on? Bells were ringing, clanging all around her. Was there a celebration? Had the war been won?

  Her mind caught up with reality and energy jolted through her veins. An alarm! The clamour of bells meant the fort was under attack. She needed to go.

  In a single smooth movement, Ester pulled the blanket off herself, sat up and willed light into being. She quickly pulled on her dress and started working on stockings and shoes.

  She knew what she needed to do. Since Lindholm had let her join them in the fight, they’d given her an assignment if the fort was attacked beyond just hiding in her room. She needed to get to the command room as fast as she could and then they’d send her wherever reinforcements were needed. It made sense, she didn’t command any Republican soldiers so she didn’t have a maniple or company to stay with.

  It only took a minute or so to get dressed. As soon as her shoes were on, Ester laid a finger on one of the runes she’d carved into the doorframe of her room.

  “Do’aelt.” No one had mentioned the rough wards she’d put up, thankfully. Hopefully they thought it was because of the infiltrators rather than a fear that one of the Republicans might try to murder her again. Either way, if anyone interfered with them, she’d be woken up and if they simply barged into her room they’d regret it.

  With the wards deactivated, she burst out and broke into a jog. She’d have run faster, dignity was overrated when the fort was under attack, but these days it was hard to summon the energy and she wanted to pace herself as much as she could.

  When she reached the command room, Lindholm was already there, barking out orders. If this was a major attack, would the Arcanist-Colonel be joining the defenders?

  It probably made sense for to hold off unless things got desperate. If she was occupied on one side of the fort, the undead might then launch their real attack on the far side.

  “Mage Mazar,” Lindholm’s harsh voice broke Ester’s train of thought. “Our scouts spotted the undead’s forces massing and lookouts have seen them advancing. I want you on the lower walls on the northern face. You will join the garrison’s third company there and provide whatever support they need. Do you know the way?”

  “Yes, Arcanist-Colonel.” Ester just managed to stop herself from saluting in the Republican style. Instead she sketched a quick bow and headed out again.

  As she jogged through the fort’s tunnels, Ester’s mind was racing. Was this a real attack? Just some kind of feint? Was it going to be the end of everything or would they fight it off and keep on slowly getting hungrier and weaker? How long did they have until the attack arrived? Were the undead right behind the scouts?

  She took a left turn into a smaller tunnel that gently sloped upwards. The whole fort was a maze, but she was finally starting to get the hang of finding her way around it.

  Lindholm had told her to join garrison troops. That was a bit worrying. Ester had mostly spent time with the officers from the 13th and, as they’d gotten to know each other better, those men had gradually thawed out. The common soldiers of the 13th were better too, they just acted like professionals.

  The garrison troops on the other hand were rather less impressive. She was no expert, but she could see they were sloppier. Then, to add to that, She knew for a fact that some of them wanted her dead.

  It didn’t matter. Problems with the garrison troops were a possibility, but the undead were a certainty.

  Ester emerged into the freezing, night air and had to choke back a gasp as she scrabbled to turn up the collar on her borrowed coat. She couldn’t waste magic on discreetly warming herself when she might have to fight for her life at any moment.

  It was hard to see where she was going in the darkness. The Republicans didn’t like illuminating their walls as it would just let enemy witches see where they were, but there were still dim, red witchlights built into the inside of the crenelations. Just enough for her to see by without ruining her night vision.

  Ester hurried up to the first soldier she saw.

  “Citizen,” she kept her voice to a low hiss, but he still jumped, yanking his attention away from the dark ground outside the fort. “I have been assigned to assist your maniple, where is your captain?”

  For a long moment, Ester thought he was going to respond with an insult or even attack her. Then he jerked an arm off to his right.

  “That way. Captain Lovas.”

  He didn’t bother with an honorific, but Ester ignored his rudeness. There were more important things to worry about as she started to carefully make her way along the walls, shooting glances out at the darkness beyond the fort.

  Captain Lovas. She didn’t know the man, but it seemed he wasn’t an Arcanist, or even a Cantrist, unlike the officers of the 13th. Maybe that was why she’d been sent to support him?

  It took a few more minutes and hushed questions before she found the captain. He was stood with a few other soldiers, quietly giving orders.

  “Captain Lovas?”

  “Yes?” He looked over to her.

  “I am Ester Mazar, Arcanist-Colonel Lindholm sent me to provide support to your section of the walls.

  “Oh. I see.” Ester frowned at his tone. “Well I suppose we must make do with what the Arcanist-Colonel sends us. You can accompany my Cantrists and provide support. Follow their guidance and try to stay out of the way. If any undead witches try to attack the walls, put a stop to it.”

  He turned back to his men without another word, leaving Ester standing there quietly fuming. This was part of why she hadn’t wanted to be assigned to help the garrison troops. Was Lindholm really trying to get her killed? After standing there for an awkward few seconds, it was clear that Captain Lovas wasn’t planning to say anything more. At least the officers in the 13th seemed to be more interested in winning their battles than in being petty.

  “Captain Lovas, my apologies,” Ester forced herself to be polite, “who would you like me to accompany?”

  “Huh? Oh. You already know Cantrist-Sergeant Vegard, don’t you?” There was something in his tone that Ester really didn’t like.

  “We have met.” She couldn’t quite keep the ice out of her voice.

  “Indeed.” He turned his head and shouted loud enough for Ester to wince. “Vegard! Get your arse over here.”

  His smirk met Ester’s scowl as one of the soldiers came jogging over. She’d thought they were meant to be being quiet too. What was wrong with the man?

  A sudden urge gripped her to do something to the captain, maybe cut the belt on his trousers almost all the way through. He didn’t have the Talent and she was sure no one else would spot her do it if they didn’t even have an Arcanist in Lovas’ company.

  The shape of the magic was hovering at the edge of Ester’s mind, a small, subtle spell that was almost unbearably tempting. Her sense of duty was warring with her pride and pride was winning.

  Fortunately, Cantrist-Sergeant Vegard’s arrival was enough for her to get herself back under control.

  “Captain, you wanted me?” Vegard might want to be a murderer, but at least he had the sense to keep his voice down.

  “Ah, yes. Your girl’s here to help us. Keep an eye on her and make sure she stays pointed at the right enemies.”

  Outrage spiked in Ester as Lovas confirmed her suspicions about what he was insinuating. Vegard had tried to kill her! And he was a Republican!

  “Uh, Captain, she’s-”

  “I am not his girl!”

  “Whatever you say, Mazar. Now, go before the undead are climbing over the walls.”

  Ester could practically hear Lovas’s smirk. For a moment rage came close to overwhelming everything, but with an effort of will she forced it back under control. She’d remember this though. Oh yes she would.

  With a scowl, she turned to Vegard, “Cantrist-Sergeant, where will I be most useful?”

  “Uh, if you come this way, Mage Mazar, I’ll show you.”

  Ester felt a dark satisfaction at the way he winced, which only grew at the slight tremor in his voice.

  She wouldn’t do anything to Lovas during the battle. She wasn’t a murderer, although she wouldn’t be particularly upset if that particular Republican died for his nation. Afterwards on the other hand… She wouldn’t do anything permanent, but she wasn’t going to stand around and let the man insult her like that.

  Ester shot a glance at Vegard, who was staring determinedly ahead, and her scowl deepened.

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  Save or Die

  Dramatis personae:

  Ester Mazar - Chartered Mage, definitely having a great time and not regretting her life choices at all.

  Edvin Loga - Arcanist-Captain in the 13th Strike Regiment, doing his best to be nice.

  Velxe Rutane - lord and wheeler dealer, actually having a great time.

  Lovas - Captain in the garrison troops, that'll show the crown-licker, ha!

  Vegard - Cantrist-Sergeant in the garrison troops, my chances of suffering an unfortunate magical accident during the battle have gone up by at least 50%.

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