talents. Maran here has an impressive resume. Served in the recent Gelgould Border campaign, and before that, contracted to Morbano’s Mercenaries.”
The warrior glanced sideways at the blond woman in the other seat. “Meaning no disrespect, Commander, but wouldn’t it mean more to hear how impressive she is from someone who actually served with her?”
“No disrespect taken, Horatia,” said Maran, smiling.
“I meant no disrespect to the commander,” Horatia snarled.
“Horatia has good reason to be wary, Maran,” the commander conceded after a sharp look toward Horatia. “Asaria caused her considerable inconvenience before her departure—”
“—as in nearly getting me killed—”
“—and I’m inclined to be tolerant of her attitude.” He glanced at Horatia again. “To a point.” He waited until Horatia had nodded that she understood.
“Now, as to why you’re both here,” he continued. “A mission has come up for which the two of you are uniquely suited. We have reports, confirmed, that a mage-built weapon—a rather nasty piece of work from the sound of it—was being transported to those who commissioned it when raiders waylaid the caravan. Reports, also confirmed, say it’s being held in a small town called Sevry, near the Keldaough border. The raiders plan to sell it to the highest bidder which, in all likelihood, will be the duke whose forces we’re currently engaging. A weapon with the powers ascribed to this one deployed against us would make for a very bad day.”
“One of these days,” Horatia muttered, “someone with the clout to make them stick will come up with rules of war that outlaw mages and mage weapons. Wars should be fought with honest steel in the hands of flesh-and-blood fighters.”
“Unfortunately, that day has not come.” The commander turned to the other woman. “Maran, I’ve been told what a mage has built, a mage can destroy. Is this true?”
“It is.”
“And I’d rather have it done before we end up having to face it. Hence your part of the task.”
“Of course,” the woman agreed.
“Obviously, sending you out alone through hostile territory and into the middle of a pack of raiders with incentive to protect a valuable prize is out of the question. You’ll need a fighter with you. Horatia, that will be you.”
The woman warrior opened her mouth, but before she could protest, Maran beat her to it. “Commander, I mean no insult to either your judgement or this . . . lady’s . . . abilities. But shouldn’t I have more than one guard, and . . . well . . . someone who isn’t a . . . ah . . . someone who is . . . male?”
“Horatia is one of my best,” the commander said quickly, recognizing the portent of Horatia’s clenched teeth, “and you can be assured that she will protect you as well or better than anyone under my command. And, as it happens, the fact she is a woman works into a plan with decent odds of success. In addition to being where the raiders call home, Sevry is the site of a shrine to one or another of the regional goddesses, and it appears to be a busy one. Our scouts report seeing priestesses traveling in and out of town almost daily. They always travel in pairs, without guards, and they always wear voluminous robes that cover them completely. It’s against their religion to see anything of one of these priestesses but her eyes. Apparently, people go to great lengths to avoid looking at them at all.”
“That could give us something of an advantage,” Horatia mused. “Commander, when you say those robes are voluminous . . . ”
“The scouts describe them as looking like walking tents. One of these priestesses on horseback, and you can hardly see the horse. More than roomy enough for you to be fully armed and armored beneath it without anything showing.”
“It might work, at that,” the warrior decided.
“Good. Maran, any questions?”
“Do we know what this device looks like? How big it is?” the mage asked.
“Unfortunately, no. Is that a problem?”
Maran smiled engagingly. “None at all. I will be able to identify it by its energy. Depending on the effectiveness of its shielding, it may even be possible to pick that up from a distance as a means of locating it.”
“Good. Your orders are to get in, find the thing, render it permanently impotent, and leave before anyone realizes their prize is now a worthless piece of junk.” He picked up a small rolled map and handed it to Horatia. “This shows the route to Sevry and the