"Are you trying to get yourself killed?" Etan demanded. "I've heard rumors that there was a powder mage out on the front each of the last few days, throwing himself into the teeth of the enemy like he wanted to die. I'd never imagined it was you. You'll be lucky to get off with a flogging for this. Attacking General Ket! I can't believe it."
Taniel pulled his knees to his chest and tried to get his body to stop shaking. "Are you done?" Why was he shaking so much? It scared him worse than looking down the wrong end of a Warden's sword. Was it the mala withdrawal? His powder?
"Taniel … " Etan stared at him, and Taniel could tell there was genuine concern in his eyes. "Taniel, you dragged me five feet before I managed to clock you in the side of the head. I've dropped men twice your size with that punch, and I had to do it three times to even faze you. Pit, I'm twice your size! I know that powder mages are strong, but … "
"I'll take full responsibility," Taniel said. "Hopefully you'll not be reprimanded."
"I'm not worried about me."
"Captain?"
They both looked up. General Hilanska stood over them. The provosts were gone.
"Colonel, I'd like a word with the captain in private, please."
Etan left them, and Taniel slowly climbed to his feet, unsure as to whether he'd be able to stand but certain that General Hilanska might be his only ally left in this camp. "Sir?" He swayed to the side and stumbled. Hilanska caught him with his one good arm.
"Ket wants your head," Hilanska said.
"I'd imagine."
"You know," the old general said, "with Tamas gone, powder mages don't have any pull anymore. Some of the ranking officers seem to want to pretend you never existed."
Taniel leaned his head back and looked up at the darkening sky. Some stars were beginning to show, and the moon glowed bright on the eastern horizon. "Do you believe he's dead?"
Hilanska began to walk, forcing Taniel to follow him on wobbly legs. Taniel's hands were shaking a little less, now.
"I don't want to believe it," Hilanska said. "None of us do, despite how the others are acting. We all loved your father. He was a brilliant strategist. But all contact was lost. We haven't heard from any of our spies in the Kez army for three weeks now. We have to face the facts. Tamas is likely dead."
If Tamas was dead, so were Vlora and Sabon and the rest of the powder cabal and the Seventh and Ninth. Taniel felt his chest tighten. No tears. There wouldn't be any of those. Not for Tamas. But for him to be gone forever … "And Kresimir?"
"Whatever you did to him, he survived it."
"What of this Mihali? This god-chef?"
Hilanska shrugged. "Your father seemed to think he was Adom reborn."
"And you?"
"I don't have any evidence either way. His cooking is amazing. Supposedly, he and Kresimir have some kind of a truce. Something about letting the mortals fight it out." Hilanska spit out of the corner of his mouth. "I don't like the idea that we're being used in some kind of cosmic battle."
"No," Taniel said. "Neither do I." His head was starting to clear. Things weren't spinning anymore. "What can Ket do to me?"
"She's a general. You're a captain. A roomful of people just watched you try to kill her."
"I wouldn't have killed her. And I'm not just a captain. I'm a powder mage."
Hilanska said, "I know. Tamas kept you outside the rank system. If he was still here, you would have gotten away with it. Ket is a good general, but she has a narrow vision of things. Tamas knew that. You're just a captain now, though."
"Who has been ordering the retreats along the front?"
Hilanska stopped and turned toward Taniel. "I have."
"You?" Taniel had to keep himself from stepping back.
Hilanska set his hand on Taniel's shoulder, as a father might to his son. "We can't hold them," Hilanska said. "Up until you arrived, we had no answer to those Black Wardens. They just cut right through the infantry like nothing I've ever seen. They're faster and stronger than regular Wardens, and powder won't ignite near them. Even with you here, we can't hold the line."
"What about sorcery? The Wings have Privileged."
"Sorcery doesn't do a thing to the new Wardens. It's baffling, really. I can't imagine that the Kez Cabal would create something they might not be able to control."
Taniel mulled over that for a moment. His brain was starting to work again. That seemed a good sign. The rage was becoming a distant memory. "Maybe they didn't create them."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we've never seen a Warden created out of a powder mage before. Maybe Kresimir did that. Maybe the remnants of the Kez Cabal have no say."
"It makes sense." Hilanska watched him for a few moments. "Where are you sleeping?"
Taniel looked up to the side of the mountain. "Have a tent set up there."
"I'll get you a real room," Hilanska said. "You need some sleep. Come find me in an hour, and I'll have something arranged. Now, though, I need to try to convince Ket not to have you hanged."
Taniel's heart had finally stopped pounding. He felt deflated, ill. "Thank you. General?"
Hilanska paused and looked back.
"I've been turned down for more powder by a dozen different quartermasters. They claim we don't have enough black powder and the General Staff is rationing it. Is there really a shortage?" Taniel thought back to Ricard Tumblar. The union boss had mentioned something about the supply demands from the front being unusually high.
"It's not as bad as all that," Hilanska said quietly. "I'll make sure you get what you need. Anything else?"
"Yes." Taniel hesitated, not sure if he wanted to know the answer to his next question. "Are there any powder mages left in Adopest? I know Tamas was training some new ones."
"They all went with him. Even the trainees."
"Pit. I'd hoped that Sabon was still here somewhere."
Hilanska's face fell and he let out a soft sigh. "You haven't heard?"
"Heard what?"
"Sabon's dead, my boy. Took a bullet from an air rifle to the side of the head over a month ago."
Hilanska patted Taniel on the shoulder and headed off into the night.
It was several moments before Taniel could manage to take another deep, shaky breath. He looked at the sky again. The daylight was only a sliver on the western mountains now; the sky above, a blanket of brilliant stars on dark blue.
Sabon, dead. His mentor. His teacher.
That had to have shaken Tamas. Perhaps enough that Tamas had made mistakes.
If Sabon was dead, then maybe Tamas was as well.
Was Taniel the last powder mage left in Adro? It seemed that way. The army retreated more every day. Kresimir was alive, and demanding their surrender. What could he do?
Fight.
The only answer.
CHAPTER
15
Tamas stood in the stirrups, watching through a looking glass as Kez scouts crested the last hilltop between the Kez cavalry and Tamas's two ragged brigades of infantry.
After a few more moments of examining the enemy scouts he sat down and handed the looking glass to Olem.
"We'll have about two-thirds of our men inside the forest by the time they reach us."
Behind him, the Hune Dora Forest rose above the plains. The prairie up to the forest had been logged to the twig a century ago, but Hune Dora itself was a barricade of trees, protected by royal decree and declared a national property of Kez. The terrain changed drastically here, as the rolling foothills of the prairie gave way to sharp mountain ridges that crept like mighty old roots toward the Amber Expanse.
Tamas suspected the difficulty in logging Hune Dora had as much to do with the forest being protected as the king's hunting practices.
He spurred his mount around and rode to catch up with the rear of the column. The men marched at half-time as the elements of the column ahead of them adjusted from six abreast to four abreast in order to smoothly transition to the forest roadway.
"Colonel Arbor," Tamas said as he joined the rear guard.
Colonel Arbor was ancient as army standards went. He was ten years older than Tamas, and had long since lost most of his hearing and all of his teeth. Despite his age he could march, fight, and drink like a man of thirty, a fact he attributed to a glass of wine and fine cigar before bed every night. The colonel walked beside the very last men of the rear guard, rifle slung over his shoulder like a common soldier, cavalry saber at his side. The First Battalion of the Seventh Brigade was Tamas's very best. It was no accident they carried the rear.
"Eh?" the colonel said.
"I wish you'd ride." Tamas nearly had to shout, just to be sure the colonel would hear him.
The colonel flexed his jaw and popped out his false teeth into one hand. "Won't do it," he said. "My old bollocks hurt like the pit in a saddle. Besides, sir, we need horses for scouting." He eyed Tamas and Olem's mounts as if he thought they'd find better use with the rangers.
"We're going to have company in about fifteen minutes," Tamas said. "You've the rear guard. I want a walking retreat. Steady and brave."
Arbor cleared his throat and spit out a wad of phlegm. "Battalion!" he screamed. Farther up the line, a captain jumped half a foot in surprise. "Fix sword bayonets! Interlocking windmill. Livers in ten!"