“Paid off with what?” Temar threw up his hands with irritation. “If they don’t demand gold up front, it’ll still cost us land granted to men with no idea how to till it and less interest.”
“Why risk death or injury to anyone?” said Guinalle, agitated. “Artifice and elemental magic both can bring a ship safely over the ocean without having to stop at Suthyfer.”
“Don’t be so foolish.” Temar made no attempt to hide his scorn. “They’d have a stranglehold on our very lifeblood.”
“No one would risk the crossing with pirates camped on the route,” Halice said more courteously. “Even without any need to stop.”
“The threat would kill all our trade.” Ryshad looked at Temar. “And from that base, they’ll plunder the whole ocean coast. With the Inglis trade at their mercy, the Emperor will act with or without your agreement. If Tormalin cohorts set foot on Suthyfer, you want it on your terms, not Tadriol’s.”
“Which is why you want mercenaries.” Halice slapped a roll of parchment against one booted leg. “Pay them with the pirates’ loot.”
“No!” Guinalle objected. “We’d be no better than those thieves!”
I’d had enough of this. “What about Hadrumal? Numbers don’t count for so much with wizards chucking handfuls of fire or skewering people with lightning. Any size ship will sink if magic lets in the sea below its waterline.” I’d done my best to steer clear of magic for most of my life but since I’d found myself reluctantly involved in such matters, I’d come to appreciate its uses in the right place at the right time.
<>What will the Archmage demand by way of recompense?” challenged Temar.
“If you want to make a break with Tadriol, bringing Planir in will do it,” Halice pointed out. “Tormalin suspicions of magecraft’s ambitions will have a field day.”
“That could do as much harm to Kellarin’s trade as pirates,” said Ryshad reluctantly.
“I don’t think Planir could help.”
Allin’s soft words nearly went unheard but Temar stopped and looked at her. “Go on.”
She went pink. “Obviously he could use his magic, but I don’t think he’ll want to, not involving Hadrumal on his authority as Archmage. The Council’s badly split over whether or not wizardry should be involved in mundane affairs—”
Ryshad hushed Temar’s indignant exclamation. “How so?”
“Fighting the Elietimm was one thing,” Allin said with an apologetic glance at Guinalle. “They’re a magical threat, but pirates are just pirates. Planir’s being pressured to nominate a new Cloud Master—”
“Such concerns are so very much more important than life or death for Kellarin,” Temar interrupted scathingly.
Even though his anger wasn’t directed at her, Allin blushed scarlet and ducked her head so that all we could see was her coiled braids. I promised myself that sometime soon I’d wake Temar up to the lass’s silent devotion for the insensitive clod.
“But what about Parrail?” Guinalle’s distress was giving way to anger.
“Let’s see the lay of the land.” Halice unrolled her parchment on the table.
“At least we can see what forces we’ll need,” Ryshad said to Temar.
I looked at their three heads bent close together. If Halice was as stubborn as an offside ox, Ryshad and Temar made a matched pair just as bull-headed. Their deliberations were going to take quite some time.
Guinalle shot Temar’s oblivious back a fulminating glare and stalked off to sit on the settle by the fire again.
I tapped Allin on the shoulder and she looked up. “Planir can’t actually keep an eye on every wizard’s doings, can he?”
Allin looked puzzled. “How do you mean?”
“If we had mages helping us without Planir necessarily knowing, so no one could blame him for it, maybe we could find a quicker route through all this than sending in any swords.” I spared a glance for Ryshad who was plainly trying to stop Halice and Temar falling into outright disagreement. I was never going to share his or Halice’s relish for a fight and if magic could keep my friends from risking a pirate sword in their guts, I’d try any way I could to make the runes fall my way.
“I’ll do my best,” quavered Allin.
“I’m not asking you to take them on alone!” I let slip louder exasperation than I intended and caught a curious look from Ryshad. “Let’s get some air.”
We left for the tiled lane. I didn’t dare look back and wondered how long we had before Ryshad came to find out what I was up to.
“Can you bespeak Shiv?” I asked Allin. “You’re not too tired?”
“Not for something using fire.” She ventured a modest smile. “He’s right, you know, Shiv. The more magic I work, the stronger I become.”
I realised some of the people who’d come to Temar’s assembly were watching us from the end of the lane with lively curiosity. I smiled blandly at them and turned to lead Allin into the creditable start of a kitchen garden that Bridele had planted behind the hall. “Where can we find a little peace and quiet for you to work?” I wondered.
“The shrine?” Allin suggested. “No one will disturb us at our devotions.”
“Good idea.” It would take some while before Ryshad would think of looking for me there. I led the way to the sanctuary the older women of the colony had dedicated to Drianon out beyond the marketplace. The small stone building stood in its own little garden, not a weed to be seen among the burgeoning flowers. The door was already dotted with ribbons and scraps of cloth pinned as token of some boon sought from the goddess. I’d been thinking of hanging one there myself, just to hint that the coming summer’s ships could usefully bring hopeful girls willing to earn their place in this new life as maids of all work. Well, that wasn’t going to happen, not till we’d got rid of these pirates.
Inside, the walls were empty of the serried ranks of funerary urns that we’d have seen back in Ensaimin and I for one was glad of that. In the centre was a statue of Drianon, elegance at odds with the rustic shrine. That had been Temar’s doing last summer. He’d searched among half the sculptors in Tormalin before fixing on one he felt both skilled and pious enough to craft the Harvest Queen’s ripely beautiful figure, her serene and mature face crowned with wheat, autumn fruits spilling from her cupped hands.
A few offerings were laid at her sandalled feet, mostly the everyday trinkets that had so offended Mistress Beldan’s sensibilities. There was one garnet necklace more akin to the ostentatious displays of devotion customary these days and I wondered what might constitute me having sufficient need for it to placate Drianon. I dismissed the notion as Allin picked up a polished pewter plate.
“A spill, please.”
I handed her a slim scrap of wood from a box by the incense burner and watched the mage work her magic with flame and metal. “Shiv?”
I edged round to stand at the mage-woman’s shoulder. “Shiv, it’s me, Livak.” I looked into the brilliant circle burning a hole in the pewter to see the wizard sitting peacefully at his own kitchen table.
“To what do we owe this pleasure?” Shiv looked amused and his lover Pered raised a friendly hand in greeting. Allin dimpled and gave a little wave that nearly set her fringe alight with the flame.
“No pleasure,” I said grimly. “We need your help. Pirates have set up camp on Suthyfer and they’ve seized two of this year’s ships. Scry for yourself.”
Shiv looked dubious. “Planir—”
I cut him off abruptly. “I don’t want to go to Planir. Allin says there’s a miser’s hoard of reasons why he won’t help. I want you and Usara, if he’s willing.”
Allin spoke up. “Everyone else who might help will want their piece of Kellarin in payment or they’ll just argue till Poldrion claims everyone over whether or not they should get involved.”
Shiv leaned back, trying to find words for something troubling him.
“You owe me, Shiv,” I warned him. “You and Usara. You blackmailed me into working for Planir in the first place and you’ve been racking up the debts ever since.” I smiled just enough to let Shiv know I held all the winning runes in this hand. “I’m calling in your marker.”