“I’ll see to you later.” Halice shaded her promise with threat, holding Deglain’s gaze until he turned away. Squaring his shoulders, he ushered Glane towards his house where Catrice waited on the threshold, buttercup yellow shawl pressed to her tear-stained face.
Halice rubbed a broad hand over the dun-coloured hair she kept cropped as short as any other soldier. Now there was only me to see, her coarse-featured face turned amiable. “I may as well take an early lunch since I’m here. You can tell me what that was all about while we eat.”
The Island City of Hadrumal, 15th of Aft-Spring
Do you suppose there are many of those dust-ups between mercenaries and colonists?”
The speaker was a wiry man with thoughtful brown eyes and a reddish beard worn close trimmed, whose sparse sandy hair was cut so brutally short it was nigh on invisible. He was young to have gone all but bald, much of an age with his companion still boasting a full head of black hair, long enough to reach his shoulders if he were to untie the scrap of leather holding it back. The two men shared a sinewy build but that was as far as any similarity went. The dark-haired man had a sallow complexion and was noticeably taller than his companion whose fair skin showed freckles as they emerged from the shadow of a doorway into the early morning sun.
“Livak and Halice looked to have everything well in hand.” Breezily confident, he stuck his hands into the pockets of his grass-green jerkin, a garment significantly more relaxed in cloth and cut to the sober buff of his companion’s clothes.
“Livak’s got more than her fair share of wits,” the sandy-haired man said thoughtfully. “What did you make of Halice when you travelled with her?”
“She’s as shrewd as she’s plain faced.” The taller man smiled. “I don’t imagine there’ll be trouble with those hired swords but we can mention it if you like, if our esteemed Archmage needs some excuse for having Hadrumal send representatives to Kellarin.” From his tone, he plainly didn’t think this would be necessary.
The two men turned off the long curve of Hadrumal’s high road and through an ancient gateway of weathered stone that pierced a tower rising dark against a still sky all but colourless with the first light of the day. Footsteps loud on the flagstones, they crossed a courtyard where most windows were still firmly shuttered, their fellow wizards not yet stirring to a new day about the age-old study of magic.
The black-haired man opened an iron-studded door on to a dark staircase. A single window at the top shed scant light on the oak treads and both men paused to accustom their eyes to the gloom. Ascending in step, obvious expectation lightening their feet, the pair exchanged a grin as the sandy-haired man rapped a brisk knuckle on the door at the top.
“Enter.” The summons was curt enough to startle the pair into identical looks of surprise.
The dark-haired man opened the door. “Archmage.”
“Shiv.” The man within had his back to them, standing by a table piled high with books and documents. He looked round to greet them with a brusque nod. “Usara. What can I do for you?”
“We thought we’d invite you to share some breakfast with us.” Shiv’s words tailed off into uncertainty.
“You’re expecting someone?” Usara didn’t hide his surprise at the Archmage’s formal robe, an expensive gown of silk as dark and glossy as a raven’s wing, arcane symbols picked out on the fronts in matt black embroidery. Planir’s hair was as black as his robes but for a touch of frost at his temples.
“As you can see,” the Archmage replied tersely.
Hesitation checked Shiv’s smile. “We wanted to discuss Kellarin.”
“What about it?” Planir made a neat stack of the small volumes he’d extracted from his pile of books.
“There’ll be a lot happening there this year,” Shiv began rather lamely. “The colony was set fair to expand by the end of last autumn and now we’re past Equinox, there’ll be nothing to hold them back.”
“There’s a whole new continent to discover,” Usara chipped in. “Hadrumal can offer all manner of assistance. Wizardry will make exploration far quicker and safer.”
“That’s wizardry in general or you pair in particular?” Planir turned shadowed grey eyes on Usara. The early light through the lancet windows made harsh angles of his cleanshaven face.
“You know we have an interest in Kellarin, Archmage,” the younger man said slowly.
“Any ship wanting to make the ocean crossing needs a wizard aboard,” Shiv shrugged. “It may as well be us as anyone else.”
“I beg leave to disagree,” said Planir with a weary hint of humour. “That’s a task ideally suited to mages fresh out of their apprenticeship who need a lesson in the differences between the theories they have learned and the practical application of magic.”
“We could keep a weather eye on them from Kellarin,” Usara suggested. “Use our own experience of the oceans and the coastal currents to help them.”
“You don’t see your duty here as more important?” The faint smile faded from Planir’s face. “It is customary to pay for the learning you’ve gained by passing it on, turn and turn about with your contemporaries. What about your own apprentices?”
Usara looked uncertainly at the Archmage. “I think we’ve taught them all we can. Equinox always means apprentices moving on to new masters, so we thought we’d be free—”
“Did you consider who might be planning to pass their apprentices on to you? Herion’s already mentioned two lasses he thinks would benefit from your assistance, ’Sar.” Planir gestured towards the long roofs of Hadrumal’s buildings visible through the windows, tall towers and lesser buildings subservient to them. “You’re both of some standing in the Council now, respected among the halls. More than one mage is interested in your notions of working magic cooperatively.”
Usara opened his mouth but Planir cut him off with a curt sweep of one hand. “Do you imagine you’ve learned everything Hadrumal has to teach you? I don’t recall Shannet releasing you from your pupillage with her, Shiv.” He fixed the dark-haired mage with a hard look. “What does she think of your plans? I take it you’ve told her?”
“No,” Shiv replied slowly. “She hates any mention of Kellarin, as you know full well.”
“Because Viltred, love of her youth, died there and Otrick, friend of her old age, returned moribund.” Planir’s eyes were flinty beneath fine black brows.
“You don’t need to remind me of that,” retorted Shiv, stung.
“No?” Planir’s voice was cold. “Have the dangers that proved so fatal for them vanished?”
“Elietimm have made no move against the colony in more than a year,” said Shiv with determined composure.
“But the possibility remains, of course. Which is all the more reason to send mages with more up their sleeves than a talent for keeping a fire in overnight or picking the best place for a well,” Usara pointed out.
“They worked enough malice in the north last year, as you know better than any.” The Archmage folded his arms carefully over his robe. “Despite your success in foiling their plans, ’Sar, I don’t suppose they’ve given up their hopes of alliance with the Mountain Men. If you’re in Kellarin we could be seriously wrong-footed if we suddenly find we need the benefit of the contacts you made among the Forest Folk and the upland strongholds.”
“Whenever we’ve countered an Elietimm threat, they’ve tried something else, not the same thing again. There’s been no sniff of them in the Archipelago since Ryshad exposed their conspiracies.” Shiv took a step forward. “And the Mountain Men will be full on their guard, any fool can see that. Elietimm eyes will start looking south again. Apprentices will be hardly able to defend the colony if they attack. If we’re there, we’ll know what we’re dealing with and how best to fight it.”