Shadows in the Smoke - Chapter 49 - Duty is a Harsh Mistress

  "In the Republic we seek to reform, not punish, those unfortunate Citizens that fall into crime. Execution is a last resort, for most crimes labour and education are the solution. Through this criminals can learn to contribute to society, while paying for their keep and eventually reemerge as productive Citizens."

  The Struggle for Freedom by Bjarne Midthun

  =====

  Ester tried not to bite her bottom lip as she stepped into the improvised briefing room. Magic flickered through the walls and as soon as she was inside the faint sounds that permeated the fort vanished. Lindholm stood in front of five chairs, four of them occupied by Republican officers.

  They all nodded to her and even shifted slightly to make it easier for her to reach the empty chair. She had to push down a surge of excitement. She could still hardly believe this was happening. She was there, fighting for humanity and these veterans were treating her like she was one of them. How things had changed in less than a year since she’d graduated from the Academy. She’d never have believed she’d end up in a situation like this, about to go and die heroically for the People’s Republic of Itria of all things.

  She just about managed not to giggle nervously.

  “Right, now that we are all here, let us begin.” Lindholm’s grating voice yanked Ester’s attention to her. “This strike will require every last bit of skill and Talent we have if we are to have any hope of success, but it is our only chance.”

  Magic spiralled around Lindholm before forming into an illusion in the middle of the room: a colourful, three dimensional image of the undead camp. It wasn’t that detailed, but Ester had spent enough time staring at it from the fort’s walls to recognise it in her sleep.

  “Now, the enemy’s camp has a typical layout for them. A large central space,” part of the map suddenly glowed red, “used for rituals and assemblies. Then behind that, the tents of the more senior witches among them. The liche will be in the largest tent on the northern edge of the space.” A green glow this time. “It will be surrounded by its most powerful followers.” The green expanded. “Then the rest of the undead and living troops will be spread out into units surrounding the centre. Less powerful witches and greater undead will be among them. However, I would expect them to be largely irrelevant to us, other than in great numbers, anyone of significance will be near the centre.”

  Ester pursed her lips as Lindholm continued. She couldn’t help but wonder how they were going to avoid great numbers if they were right in the middle of the enemy army.

  “Our goal is going to be to kill the liche and as many of its more powerful witches as possible. If we can decapitate the undead army then it will simply cease to be a threat to us. A simple goal, but obviously the difficult part is putting that into practice. So, before we get into that, any questions?”

  Ester glanced around her, but none of the Republicans seemed inclined to speak up, so she slowly raised her hand.

  “Yes, Ester?”

  “Thank you, Arc— ah, Sigrid,” she felt the officers’ gazes on her, although she wasn’t sure whether it was because of her speaking up or because of her calling Lindholm by her first name. “Forgive my ignorance, but how can you be sure that the undead will not just continue the fight under a different leader? If you died, Arcanist-Major Norred would simply continue to lead the defence in your place. It would be a huge loss, but not the end of our ability to fight.”

  “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Norred chuckled. “Don’t underestimate Sigrid’s importance.”

  Lindholm shot him an irritated glance. “Ulrik is too generous to me. You are right, but that is because the People’s Army of the Republic is made up of skilled and motivated professional soldiers. Unlike the undead, our forces are not riddled with selfish fools and mindless monsters. If their leadership is dead, several things will happen. Their more powerful remaining witches will argue about who will lead. That argument may well involve them killing each other. Half of them will decide that if we are capable of killing a second liche, they will be next and they would rather go home than risk that. Additionally, every self-willed undead will take it as an opportunity to sate their hunger on whatever living flesh they can find. In turn, the living troops without the Talent will be doing their best not to get eaten. Even if we do not lift a finger afterwards, I would expect them to significantly weaken themselves before they are even capable of fighting again.”

  “Oh.” Ester leaned back in her chair. That made sense, sort of. Lindholm sounded very confident about that as an outcome, but if it was that easy, it didn’t explain why they hadn’t just done that at the start of the siege. “Thank you.”

  “Any more questions? Very well.” Lindholm turned her attention back to the illusion in front of her. “Everyone in this room, other than Ulrik, will be going on the mission. Ulrik, your job is to hold the fort until our return and ensure that no one can take advantage of my absence. We will split into two groups as we make our way out to the enemy camp. This will make it easier to move quietly and increase the chances of success. If your group is discovered, your job will be to cause as much of a distraction as you can while you withdraw.”

  Two red lines appeared in the illusion, approaching the undead camp from different sides.

  “We will go in the night, to avoid detection. Timing will be key as we will want to ensure that we arrive at similar times. You will need to dress appropriately too. It will be dark, so I do not think that anyone will be looking at you too closely, but you will need to pass for Askian on a casual glance. Now, for the teams and missions. I will lead one team, accompanied by Ketil and Flens. Edvin, you and Ester will make up the other team.”

  She suddenly focused on Ester. “I know you are not a soldier, or in our chain of command, but if you want to be on this mission, you will need follow any orders Edvin gives you immediately and without question. Can you do that?”

  Ester glanced at Loga. If Lindholm had asked her that a couple of weeks ago, she didn’t think she could have agreed, but after everything it wasn’t a difficult question. “Yes, of course I can, Sigrid.”

  “Excellent. So, we will aim to come together among the senior witches’ tents on the edge of the space at the centre of the camp. I will target the liche, leave it to me and do not try to interfere. For the rest of you, your job will be to sow chaos and kill as many witches as you can in your two teams. Your priority should be anyone who looks like they might be in a leadership role or who has strong Talent. However, do not get bogged down in a duel. If someone is matching you, run away. This is not a situation where we can win a sustained battle. We strike, we kill until the element of surprise is gone and then we run.” She smiled thinly. “No heroes’ deaths for us.”

  “How do we actually get past the sentries and into the camp, Sigrid?” Loga spoke up from his seat.

  Ester hadn’t seen all that much of him since the attack on the fort, but he looked fully recovered from his fight with the vampire Silas. If his beating at the undeads’ hands had worried him, he didn’t show it. His body radiated excitement. Actually, all of the officers were brimming with energy. Were they that keen to go on what they must know was an incredibly dangerous mission, bordering on suicidal? She resisted the urge to shake her head.

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  “Simple.” Lindholm smirked and pulled out the Schemas she and Ester had been working on. “Two Schemas. One,” she held up the framed eye glasses, “ a dark-eye Schema. With this you will be able to see as if it was daylight, well almost anyway.” That got a series of knowing nods around the room. “The other,” she held up a golden bracelet, “to hide you from the lesser undead.”

  That got a different reaction, more of a contemplative hush.

  “So you finally got the cloaker to work, Sigrid?” Arcanist-Major Norred sounded delighted. “What changed?”

  Lindholm shrugged, while looking like the cat that got the cream. “I suppose necessity is the mother of invention. I have been working on it in my spare time and it has finally come together.”

  Ester frowned. How could they know that it would work if they’d never even seen it in action before? Lindholm was good, but they’d be risking their lives based on an untested Schema that the woman had clearly had trouble with in the past. She didn’t want to say anything in front of them all, but she couldn’t keep quiet over something that important.

  “Are you sure it will work, Sigrid?” She did her best to sound casual as she asked.

  “Entirely.” Lindholm emphasised the word with a sharp nod. “Do not worry, I know what I am doing.”

  “She does at that,” Norred chuckled. Of course, he’d be staying behind so he didn’t have to worry about the Schema failing. “Don’t worry, Mage Mazar. I know it’s a lot if you’re not used to it, but if Sigrid says something will work, it’ll work. No one in the Republic knows more about fighting the undead than her.”

  Ester glanced between the Republicans and saw not even a hint of doubt. It was almost frightening how much they believed in Sigrid. “I see, thank you, Arcanist-Major.”

  “Good, if everyone is satisfied, we can continue.” Lindholm floated the two Schemas in front of her on cushions of air. “You will need to take care, the dark-eye Schemas will only last hours, given their materials and the cruder arrays.” Ester twitched at that. “The cloaking Schemas are gold, so that is not such a concern, but I shall want them back. I have a rather limited supply of it.”

  The officers chuckled at that. Ester could understand the sentiment. Gold was always in short supply, given its usefulness. She could only hope Lindholm hadn’t stolen some from the fort’s wards or something similarly vital to make these Schemas. Or perhaps the woman had a small supply of her own for Schemas. It was the sort of thing a war hero might have. For a brief moment she let herself fantasise about sneaking it away for her own purposes. It would save her so much time if she could remake her own Schemas in gold.

  “If that is clear,” Lindholm kept going without any consideration for Ester’s thoughts, “we can get into the detail of the mission. I want every person in this room to know everything possible forwards backwards and sideways.”

  With a quiet sigh, Ester leaned forwards to listen. She needed to pay careful attention, it might save her life.

  =====

  After the briefing, Ester’s mind was whirling as she ate her meagre dinner. She hadn’t expected the Republican officers to ask so many questions, or to argue about so many things. At times it had felt more like a chaotic family discussion than a military briefing, but she had to admit she felt like they had the best plan possible now. It probably still wasn’t all that good a plan, but there was nothing she could do about the enemy’s overwhelming power.

  She stood and took her bowl to be washed before turning towards Sigrid’s rooms with a yawn. She’d spent every evening there, working on the Schemas and talking with Sigrid. If all went well, she’d finish the last of the dark-eye Schemas this evening. If she didn’t they’d be having problems. At least she’d managed to finish her own work on her belt knife, albeit at the cost of sleep.

  The guard waved Ester straight through to Sigrid’s rooms. The Arcanist-Colonel was sat at her desk, another chair beside her ready for Ester.

  “Ah, Ester. Thank you for coming. Have a seat. I am working on the last of the cloaking Schemas, it is quite fiddly, so you will excuse me if I do not stand.”

  Ester made her way to the desk and took a seat without replying. Lindholm was not a woman for small talk. Not until she decided she had done enough work anyway.

  The last of the dark-eye Schemas was on the desk, just as Ester had left it the night before. After a moment to make herself comfortable, she picked it up and looked it over, reminding herself of how far she’d gotten.

  “Fjal.” She started by carving the rune for clarity onto one of the lines that formed the array.

  Ester wasn’t sure how long she worked on the Schema. The world faded away to nothing as she focused completely on it, until with a sigh of relief she set the last rune into the array. With critical eyes, she looked over her work. She wouldn’t truly know how good it was until they tried to use it. Activating it now would be foolish, it would start degrading straight away. She’d done a good job though, she was sure of it.

  A sound from Sigrid made her look to her side. The woman was taking a swig from yet another bottle. Great Spirits! Had the woman been drinking the whole time? Ester had been so focused on her work that she hadn’t even seen Lindholm get the bottle out. She tried to ignore the cold tendrils of fear that ran up her spine as she realised she was going to be trusting her life to an untested Schema made by a woman who’d drunk half a bottle of hard liquor.

  Sigrid put the bottle down and met Ester’s gaze.

  “Last bottle in the whole fucking fort.” She grimaced. “As far as I know. I suspect some of the soldiers have their own, if they have not already drunk them, but I do not have time to go looking. I suppose it is good that the mission is tomorrow.”

  Had Sigrid decided to attack the liche because she was running out of alcohol? Ester dismissed the horrifying thought almost as quickly as it came.

  “Is it, uh…” she chose her words carefully. “Are you sure that it is a good idea to drink the night before we leave?”

  “I think there are few better ideas, Ester.” Sigrid took another swig and sighed before continuing in a softer tone. “You would not understand. You are too young, too innocent.”

  “I—”

  “Yes, yes, you are no green recruit. I know. You have killed people, seen terrible things. I know. How did you feel the first time you used your magic to truly hurt someone? The first time you killed someone? The first time you saw something so disgusting that it made you want to vomit?”

  Ester’s mind spiralled back. When she was attacked on her way to Vass Karan. Killing the smuggler captain. Rotting corpses coming at her deep under the Marcni Palace. The Mehrzad’s desperate desire to feed on her.

  She shuddered. She couldn’t help it. They’d been horrible. So many things she didn’t want to think about, that she wished she’d never seen. That wasn’t everything that mattered though. She’d saved people, she’d done her duty and she’d survived.

  Ester forced composure back onto her face and met Lindholm’s eyes.

  “I felt terrible. Terrified, guilty and disgusted all at the same time. But that does not matter. I survived and I made the world a better place.”

  “Exactly! Just what I expect to hear from you. You still have the fire of righteousness burning in you. Life has not extinguished it yet. However,” Lindholm held up a finger and tilted the bottle to her lips, “the problem is that as you get older everything becomes greyer. Have you ever killed a friend?”

  Ester shook her head violently. “No! Why would you ask something like that?”

  “Sometimes, if you are in my position, you have to make decisions. Horrible ones. Maybe one day it will be the same for you. If the Liche Kings conquer the Republic, your Empire will be next. Maybe then they will be desperate enough to give up on their ridiculous insistence that women should not fight and you will be out there, Mage-Colonel Mazar leading a regiment full of Battle Mages.” Lindholm frowned slightly. “I can see the little spark of excitement that put into you. Be careful what you wish for. Mage-Colonel Mazar would no doubt be an excellent Battle Mage, but she would have to make the same horrible decisions I do. You do not understand. You are a clever girl, but you cannot truly understand until you are there.”

  Ester pushed down her flare of anger. She needed to be sympathetic, not angry. “I think I understand, Sigrid. I am sorry.” Ester wasn’t sure what else to say, she just wanted Lindholm to stop talking like that. “I am sure things will improve.”

  “Ha!” Lindholm took another drink. “You do not understand. Not at all. Imagine you must choose between the undead breaking through your lines or ordering people you have known for years to their certain deaths, all so that you can hold for one more day. Imagine walking amidst the charred remains of everyone you loved because you were needed elsewhere. Think how it must feel, being at their funerals. Hearing people talk about how they died for the greater good and knowing it was because of you.”

  She came to a shuddering halt and drank again.

  “I…” What could Ester even say to that?

  “The worst thing is, you look back. You hate yourself for it, but at the same time, you know that even if it was possible to go back in time, nothing would change because they were the right decisions. Live through that and then tell me that drinking does not help. The sacrifices you make… Duty is a harsh mistress.” Lindholm looked contemplatively at the now much emptier bottle and then held it out to Ester. “Have a drink, not too much, you are too nice for that, but just a little and thank you for indulging a mawkish old woman.”

  Ester nearly said something, but what could she say? Instead she took the bottle and had a tentative sip, bracing herself for the burning sensation. If anything, it was worse than the last time she’d tried Lindholm’s drink and she couldn’t stop the coughing fit it brought with it.

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  Dramatis personae:

  Ester Mazar - Chartered Mage, willing to die heroically for the Republic, but would rather make a necromancer die heroically for Askia.

  Sigrid Lindholm - Arcanist-colonel and war hero, drunk.

  Ulrik Norred - Arcanist-Major, Sigrid is worth any ten necromancers, even when she's drunk.