The Force Commander shrugged “Hold our position. Die if we must.”
“Then I will make you an offer, Commander. You must decide if it is a trick or not. Kasumi of the Shinzawai carried an offer from the Light of Heaven to the Midkemian King. It was an offer of peace. The King rejected it, but now there is to be a new king who is willing to make peace. I would ask you to carry word to the Holy City, to the Emperor, that Prince Lyam will accept peace. Will you do so?”
The commander considered. “If what you say is true, then I would be a fool to waste my men. What guarantees are you willing to make?”
“I give you my word, as a Great One—if that means anything still— that what I say is true. I also promise that your men will be given safe conduct back to the valley, on promise they return to the Empire for a year’s time. And I will ride to the valley entrance, to your lines, as hostage. Is that enough?”
The commander thought it over for a moment as he surveyed his tired, thirsty troops. “I will agree, Great One. If it is the Light of Heaven’s will that the war end, who am I to prolong it?”
“The Oaxatucan have long been known for their bravery. Let it be said they are also worthy of honor for their wisdom.”
The commander bowed, then turned to his soldiers. “Pass the word. We march home.”
Word that the Emperor would agree to peace reached the camp four days later. Pug had given a message to Wataun to be carried through the rift. It bore the black seal of the Assembly, and no one would impede its swift delivery. It had been addressed to Fumita, asking him to carry word to the Holy City that the new King of the Realm would not require retribution but would accept peace.
Lyam had shown visible emotion when Pug had read the message. The Emperor himself would come through the rift in a month’s time and would sign formal treaties with the Kingdom. Pug had felt close to tears when he read the news, which soon spread through the camp that the war was over. A great cheering could be heard.
Pug and Kulgan sat in the older magician’s tent. For the first time in years they had been feeling something like their old relationship. Pug was finishing up a long explanation of the Tsurani system of instructing novices.
“Pug,” said Kulgan around a long pull on his pipe. “It seems that now the war is over, we can return to the business of magicians. Only now it is you who are master, and I who would be student.”
“There is much we may learn from each other, Kulgan. But I fear old habits die hard I don’t think I could ever get used to the idea of your being a student. And there are many things you are capable of that I still cannot do.”
Kulgan seemed surprised. “Really? I would have thought my simple arts beneath your greatness.”
Pug felt the old embarrassment from when he had been Kulgan’s student. “You make sport of me yet.”
Kulgan laughed. “Only a little, boy. And you are still a boy to one of my advancing years. It is not easy for me to see an indifferent apprentice become the most powerful magician of another world.”
“Indifferent was the proper word for it. At first I only wanted to be a soldier. I think you knew that. Then when I had finally decided to devote myself to study, the invasion began.” Pug smiled. “I think you felt sorry for me that day when I stood alone before the Duke’s court, the only boy not called.”
“That is partly true, though I was the first to sense the power in you. And the judgment was borne out, no matter the amazing events required to bring your ability to fruition.”
Pug sighed. “Well, the Assembly is nothing if not complete in its training. Once the power is detected, there are but two options, success or death. With all other thoughts banished, there is little to concern the student but the study of magic. Without that, I doubt I would ever have amounted to much.”
Kulgan said, “I think not. Had the Tsurani never come, there would still have been a path to greatness for you to follow.”
They sat and talked and were comforted by each other’s presence. After a while they lit fires, for darkness was falling. Katala came to the tent to see if her husband was to join her and the boy at the celebration feast being given by King Lyam. She looked inside and saw the two of them lost in conversation.
She backed out and, with a faint smile on her lips, returned to her son.
THIRTY-ONE - Deceptions
Tomas awoke with a start.
In the predawn darkness something strange called to him. He sat up, every sense extended, trying to recapture what had awakened him.