Bifalt nodded. He and the Surveyor had discussed such problems often. When Wheal paused, the King said, “I understand. What do you suggest?”

With helplessness in his eyes, Wheal looked at Magister Crawl again.

The young man had been suppressing his enthusiasm. Now it rose up in him. “Fire, Majesty,” he exclaimed at once. “Iron will not serve. We need the Decimate of fire.”

The King raised an eyebrow. Rigid with patience, he countered, “And burn down every building here? The Open Hand is tinder. Your fire will take the whole city.”

“No, Majesty.” Crawl almost laughed in his excitement. “Let me explain. We will dig a trench from corner to corner.” An eager wave of his hand described a line from the ironmonger’s to the whorehouse. “We will fill it with oil. Then we will pile wood over it to make a high barrier. Any wood. Planks. Timbers. Ordinary firewood. Furniture if we must.

“That stone will not burn.” The ironmonger’s store. “For safety, we can conceal a few men near it with barrels of water. I will hide myself there.” The whorehouse. “When the enemy comes, I will fire the trench.” He swung his arms over his head as if he could promise a blaze that filled the sky. “The result will be a storm of flame. Even the enemy’s hordes will not try to break through it. They will search for another road.”

Crawl’s proposal had obvious flaws. “That will win us a few moments,” conceded the King. Until the wood was consumed, or the oil under it. “Until your barrier falls to ash. Then the enemy will ignore it, and you will be forced to flee.”

Magister Crawl’s grin split his face. “I know the danger, Majesty. Magister Lambent has given us the answer. Until the enemy comes, I—” He caught himself. “We. Every wielder of fire who joins me. We will train.

“It will not be difficult to arrange. Piles of brush soaked in oil will suffice. With them, we can teach ourselves to raise small fires and let them burn, then quench them without allowing the flames to spread.

“In war, we have used our Decimates indiscriminately. But every Magister of fire is able to set his hearth alight without endangering his home. And we have nothing better to do until the enemy comes. We can train until we have enough control to fire the barricades and sustain the flames without causing a wider conflagration.”

As an afterthought, he added, “Knowing our lives are at risk will inspire us.”

King Bifalt was not convinced. He had never seen a Magister put himself in danger voluntarily. He did not know what to make of Crawl’s eagerness.

While Bifalt studied the young man, Wheal said diffidently, “Taken together, Majesty, Belleger and Amika now have fifteen Magisters of fire. There may be more among the Queen-Consort’s remaining sorcerers. But fifteen Magisters and a few squads of riflemen may be enough to turn the enemy toward the Fist.