Forging the Sword (The Farsala Trilogy) (31 page)

There were advantages for the Farsalans. And if this plan came perilously close to collaboration with the enemy, then so be it. If he could save the Kadeshi peasants and their families, it would be worth it.

Did the peddler think that, when he first decided to help the Hrum?

But that was different! Kavi
betrayed
the Farsalan army, and the deghans weren’t nearly as bad as the warlords. This was a good plan, even if …

“Taking a large force of potential traitors off his hands will rid Garren of a huge problem,” Patrius pointed out. “Do you want that?”

“It doesn’t matter,” said Jiaan. “The sacrifice of those peasants is one weapon I’ll never use. You wouldn’t either, and we both know it. What I’m wondering is, would Garren pay attention to a different warning? If you told him that Siatt’s only goal is to weaken us both, so that he’ll have an easy time conquering whoever remains, would Garren listen to that? Listen and take precautions against any offer Siatt or the other warlords might make? I think that Siatt is acting on his own now—the warlords fight each other as often as they band together to fight us. But if they had a chance to conquer Farsala … If we have an army of Kadeshi warlords inside our borders when this ends, I’m not sure either of us could kick them out. And even if we could, the cost would be very high.”

Patrius rubbed his forehead, but Jiaan could see that he was thinking despite the pain. “Yes,” he said slowly. “The committee will heed that warning even if Garren ignores it, and I think Garren will pay attention to this. It’s how his own mind works.
I’ll carry your warning to the committee, and I’ll convince them too.”

The words ‘I promise’ hovered in the air between them, but with Patrius there was no need to say them aloud. The tactimian could be trusted. It was strange, Jiaan thought, to be so certain of the honor of his enemy.

A
NVILS WERE GOING
to be the worst problem, Kavi realized, gazing around the shed where Tebin stored broken tools and things that weren’t in frequent use. Tongs, punches, chisels, hammers—almost all the tools a smith needed were there in plenty, most needing only minor repairs before the Suud could use them. But anvils …
We’ll just have to be casting some,
Kavi decided. The Suud deserved to have the townsfolk of Mazad, especially the smiths, give the Wheel a spin in their favor. Without Suud magic to guide them they’d never have figured out the trick of cooling different parts of the sword at different rates—though half the journeymen in town were now claiming to have come up with it first, and soon, Kavi feared, the Suud’s assistance would be almost forgotten. But
no matter who forgot their aid, Kavi would see to it that the metal-smiths of Mazad did not forget their debt.

He picked up a wire puller and examined it critically. A bit rusty, and the wooden handle was cracked, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed.

The Suud were becoming restless—homesick, in truth, though they had promised to stay until the conflict between Farsala and the Hrum was over. Less than four months now, one way or the other. When the Suud left, the town would be sending them home with proper tools to practice their new trade—though hauling seven anvils over the mountains and down into the desert would be a rough job. If the new smiths weren’t quite finished with their training—and to be honest, they weren’t nearly finished—they would continue to improve with practice and could always return when they needed further lessons. If they continued to refine the use of Speaking on steel, who knew what they might eventually—

A soft rap on the door interrupted his thoughts.

“Come in,” he called, and suppressed a smile as the lady Soraya entered. Time was, she’d never have knocked on any door, much less that of a peasant’s toolshed, but now she did it without thinking. Kavi didn’t delude himself that the last few weeks of living under the kindly hand of Tebin and his housekeeper had brought about the change either. Something in her had finally broken her out of her old mindset and into a new one.

Though that didn’t mean she’d like to see him smiling at her. She was tolerating him better these days, but he wasn’t forgiven. He didn’t expect that—forgiving a father’s death was too much to ask of anyone, no matter how they’d grown. And speaking of forgiving …

Commander Jiaan followed her into the shed and Kavi grimaced. He’d hoped to avoid the man for the rest of the war, and beyond it too, if Jiaan couldn’t be persuaded to abandon his resolve to kill him as soon as the Hrum were defeated. Now that Kavi had helped to create watersteel swords to arm his men, perhaps Jiaan would settle for a flogging or a bit of maiming?

Jiaan wasn’t even looking at him; he was talking to a third man, who was dressed as a country farmer. But this man was no farmer, nor a countryman at all.

The wire puller fell from Kavi’s loosened grip and thudded on the dirt floor. Soft as it was, the sound caught Patrius’ attention. He looked up, squinting in the dim light of the shed. Then his eyes widened.

“You!” It was the first time Kavi had seen the composed tactimian taken completely off guard.

The girl’s brows rose. “You two know each other?”

“All too well.” Kavi picked up the wire puller, wiped the dust from it, and hung it back on the rack. “Don’t be fretting about it, Lady—I pretty much ended my days as a spy when I escaped from Barmael’s camp.”

“But you were spying for us!” Patrius exclaimed. His voice was high with outrage, but even as he finished the sentence Kavi saw a glint of humor enter his eyes. At least, he hoped it was humor—it could also have meant that the tactimian had come up with some horrible and appropriate revenge.

“Who gave you permission to go to the Hrum’s camp?” Jiaan demanded.

No humor in that one at all.

“I don’t need permission,” said Kavi coldly. “I was trying to find out a bit about Nehar’s plans, and I didn’t, though I did learn something of interest. Did Siddas tell you about the committee that’s coming to inspect our Governor Garren?”

“I vouched for you,” Patrius murmured—but there was laughter in his voice, as well as despair. He looked Kavi up and down as if the peddler had suddenly turned into a stranger, which Kavi supposed he had, but in his eyes Kavi saw the dawning of respect. It was an expression he’d never seen on the tactimian’s face before, for all they’d worked well together.

“I’m glad you’re all right,” he told Patrius. “I was worried about you—and not just that you might be winning, either.”

Patrius’ expression closed down in sudden, private pain. “It seems you needn’t have worried about that at all,” he said.

For all his sudden coolness he was alive and whole. A commander who couldn’t recover from losing a battle, at least
eventually, would be worthless—and Patrius was far from worthless. He would regain his emotional equilibrium soon enough. The tight and painful knot in Kavi’s heart loosened as they went to find Tebin and arranged for one of the storerooms to be furnished as a small but reasonably comfortable cell. Patrius was a trusted prisoner, but a prisoner nonetheless. Which meant he would be out of the fighting for the rest of the war, and Kavi need no longer wake up in a cold sweat from dreaming about the tactimian’s death.

After Patrius was locked away, Jiaan asked about swords, so Kavi took him out to yet another shed to show him the newest batch and discuss future numbers. They had armed every man in Mazad’s guard, and had almost two hundred more swords ready for Jiaan’s forces.

“Unfortunately, those may be growing soon,” said the commander grimly. “Or maybe it’s fortunate. I’m not entirely certain. Can we speak privately here?”

“I think so,” said Soraya, looking at Kavi for confirmation. Jiaan had asked her the question, though he had to know Kavi could answer it better than she could. It looked like Commander Jiaan wasn’t ready to settle for flogging yet—which meant that Kavi had to defend Mazad from the Hrum’s final attack, free Farsala, and then escape Jiaan’s revenge afterward. It seemed a lot to ask.

“We can talk here,” said Kavi. The clatter of metal on metal
from the smithy was muted by the walls, but it would be hard for anyone outside the shed to overhear them—not to mention the fact that no one could have anticipated this unscheduled meeting of the commanders of the Farsalan defense.

And that, Kavi realized with a chill, was precisely what the three of them were. Even Siddas was thinking of Mazad alone—that was responsibility enough for any man! Only the three of them had thought of all Farsala from the beginning of the invasion.

How did I get into this?

“I know that you two know about the committee, and about Garren’s plan to bribe the Kadeshi warlords,” Jiaan went on. “You’re the ones who discovered it.”

Kavi realized that Jiaan, too, had changed. The hatred was still there, but this assured voice was the voice of a commander, who for all his youth had defeated the army sent against him. A small army, perhaps—but escaping Jiaan’s revenge after this was over suddenly didn’t sound as simple as it once had.

“What you don’t know,” Jiaan continued, “is what the Kadeshi are planning in return.”

He told them about Siatt’s offer, about a horde of peasants whose families would die if they refused to sacrifice themselves. Even in the midst of his own anger, Kavi noticed that the girl was almost as furious and appalled as he was.

“Thinking of taking them up on it, are you?” he demanded. If
the bastard was, swordsman or no, Kavi would pick up a hammer and smash out his brains. His grip might be weak, but if he used both hands and a big hammer—

“No,” said Jiaan coolly. “And I’d consider myself insulted, but I’d expect you to think of something like that.”

Heat surged in Kavi’s face as that insult struck home. He took a moment to breathe until he was calm enough to speak quietly.

“I’m sorry. I was angry at that … that sorry excuse for a man, much less a ruler. But I shouldn’t have let my anger spill onto you.”

Jiaan nodded, but Kavi noticed that he didn’t apologize in return.

“As a matter of fact,” the commander went on, “I have an idea that might save them—some of them, at least, and all of their families. I’m going to offer to trade Garren my Hrum prisoners in exchange for his Kadeshi troops.”

The lady Soraya frowned. “But those men are just peasants. And Garren hasn’t even paid his bribe yet, so they won’t be coming for at least a month and probably more. Can you train them enough to be useful in the time that remains?”

Jiaan shrugged. “Not very useful. But I’d rather have them on my side than have to kill them. Or watch the Hrum kill them, knowing that their families will die if they fail. I can’t allow that, not if I can prevent it. Besides, resistance is growing throughout Farsala now, and Garren is exacting harsher and harsher reprisals.

With this committee putting even more pressure on him … The Hrum might refuse an order to execute civilians, but Kadeshi troops would do it.”

A grim pause followed. The young commander’s quiet voice broke it.

“Finally, I can’t feed my prisoners for more than another month, so giving them back in a way that might help us is the only thing that makes sense. I won’t let them starve.”

“But wouldn’t it be better to keep Garren from bribing this warlord in the first place?” Soraya asked. “If the Farsalan army captured the committee and stole the gold, it would certainly prove that Garren doesn’t control Farsala. We could even hold them for ransom. And if you had the gold, you could buy food for your prisoners—and anything else you need as well.”

Kavi knew what his expression looked like, because Jiaan’s face bore the same look of stunned stupidity.

“I don’t… I didn’t … why didn’t I think of that?” the commander of Farsala’s army stuttered.

“Probably because it’s more subtle than two armies bashing each other,” said the girl tartly. She didn’t add
Men!
but the thought was there. Kavi might have resented the implication, but he was wondering why
he
hadn’t thought of it.

“We don’t know when this committee is arriving, do we?” Kavi asked. “That could make it hard to capture them. They’ll be well
guarded, too, carrying all that gold.” Though likely not so well guarded that they could fend off the whole Farsalan army.

He could see Commander Jiaan running the same thoughts through his head, with a better understanding of things like ambushes and troop movements behind them.

“I don’t think it will work,” he said finally. He sounded so regretful that Kavi knew it was an honest estimate, not a rejection of another’s plan just because it wasn’t his. “The first problem is getting our army across the width of Farsala without the Hrum realizing it. I know they are Farsalan peasants, but that many people moving in the same direction is going to be noticed by any Hrum commander with half a brain, and most of them aren’t stupid. It will be reported to Garren, and he’s not stupid either. He has to know that both the gold and the committee are a target. Even worse, there might be—there probably are—spies in my own forces.” He told them what Patrius had said and his own conclusions.