He nodded. Zurenne waited for him to say something further. As the silence lengthened she took up her embroidery again. ‘Hosh tells me that the Jagai ships will have reached harbour safely under unthreatening stars. He says they will be relieved since the heavenly compass will soon turn to a far more menacing configuration.’
‘This Kheda, who sent word from Khusro.’ Corrain glowered briefly at the thought of the Archipelagan. ‘Does he know what those hired swords from Col will do?’
‘I have suggested that he spreads word among the Khusro merchants that they could profit by carrying them onwards to Lescar or back to Col when the spring sailings begin.’
‘You suggested—’ Corrain couldn’t hide his surprise.
Zurenne concentrated on placing her stitch neatly. ‘Caladhria’s barons won’t want half an army of disgruntled swordsmen arriving in Relshaz, surely?’
Not now that Lord Licanin and other local barons were looking thoughtfully at the small harbour of Markyate at the mouth of the River Tantel, according to Beresa’s most recent letter. Zurenne had mentioned in her own correspondence how Hadrumal’s mages were helping the merchants and guildsmen of Attar and Claithe improve their anchorages in hopes of claiming a share of Archipelagan trade.
She already knew from Kheda that the Miris warlord had sent an emissary to Licanin to discuss cleansing his domain’s strong rooms of magic. Apparently discovering that such inadvertent contamination was possible, and just as quickly learning that Khusro had discovered how to shed such pollution, had outweighed all arguments in favour of shunning the mainland. Zurenne was confident that her shrewd brother by marriage would secure whatever magecraft Markyate needed in return for helping Hadrumal secure these ensorcelled items.
‘True,’ Corrain acknowledged before shaking his head in wonder. ‘What do you suppose those mercenaries made of arriving in the Archipelago instead of being sent to plunder Hadrumal?’
Zurenne busied herself untangling her silk thread. ‘I imagine they will be very relieved when they return to the mainland and learn that these reports of the Archmage and his wizards exhausting their magic were lies.’
According to Kheda, the mercenaries’ ire was also being soothed with a judicious measure of gold while the presence of Jagai’s own swordsmen was reminding these unwilling guests that they had to get back to the mainland alive to spend their spoils.
Apparently the Jagai warlord was blaming this whole fruitless venture on swindlers from Relshaz who had duped him with well-crafted lies. The Archipelagans were now regarding all Relshazri with profound disfavour.
Any Archipelagan would rather be thought a fool than admit to being influenced by any form of magic but Zurenne wondered if some aetheric adept had put that idea into those Aldabreshi heads. At the Archmage’s behest? Not that she had said so to Kheda. He said that the Khusro wives and every other Aldabreshi was entirely prepared to believe in such a deception and there was nothing to be gained by stirring up fear and rumour of Artifice. Zurenne agreed.
She might discuss this with Corrain, once he had become accustomed to her and Ilysh’s determination to see Halferan trade with the Archipelago. Meantime, Zurenne had written to her sister Celle, Lady Fandail, on her husband’s thickly wooded estates south of Duryea, to ask if the barge-builders who bought Fandail timber knew any merchants who traded into the northern grasslands interested in dealing in quantities of Dalasorian goat hair shawls.
Corrain shifted his weight from foot to foot. Zurenne looked up. Before either of them could speak, they heard shouts down in the courtyard.
‘I believe the Esquire Den Dalderin has arrived.’ Corrain rubbed his manacle welts again. ‘I had better go and greet him.’
Zurenne nodded. ‘Offer him my compliments and say I look forward to seeing him at dinner.’
‘Very good, my lady.’ Corrain grinned and bowed before leaving the room.
Zurenne laid her embroidery down in her lap and contemplated the shrine-hanging she was working to honour Halcarion. Was it truly possible? Could they be lucky enough to see an end to all this by the evening?
CORRAIN WALKED DOWN the stairs and out onto the steps. The young Tormalin noble was handing his horse into Master Thuse’s care. Kusint escorted Den Dalderin towards the great hall.
Corrain contemplated the Forest-born youth. Hosh had been hinting that Kusint was as fond of Ilysh as he was loyal and Corrain had seen for himself how often her eyes followed the guard captain.
At some point, he would have to discuss Lysha’s future with Zurenne. An alliance by marriage with some other barony could prove problematic. Some lordling accustomed to unquestioning obedience from a household’s women would get a very rude awakening here. Corrain was certain that Lysha wouldn’t bend her neck to such autocracy any more readily than Halferan’s tenants and yeomanry would yield to a new lord.
Would such a husband try to break her spirit? Corrain wouldn’t stand for that. Perhaps a marriage within the barony was still Lysha’s best prospect; a true marriage rather than this sham. Doubtless the parliament’s lords would mutter and disapprove but Corrain suspected that Halferan’s profits from this trading venture Lysha was so set on would muffle most whispers. Meantime he and Zurenne could wait out a handful of years to see if Lysha and Kusint’s lingering looks proved more than youthful infatuation.
Regardless, they were already agreed that Tormalin hopes of inveigling a way into Halferan’s affairs through this personable and charming young man would be doomed to failure.
‘Good day to you, Baron Halferan.’ Den Dalderin offered his hand as he came up the steps with Kusint. ‘My thanks to you and your good lady for this invitation. You may rest assured of our tangible gratitude as the new trading year begins.’
Corrain answered with a thin smile. ‘Let’s hope you’re still as grateful when this meeting’s over.’
Den Dalderin chose not to answer such bluntness, turning to survey the courtyard instead. ‘I understood we were expected at noon? May I ask, how will the Solurans make the journey? I understand that a wizard cannot use magic to visit a strange place.’
‘One of Hadrumal’s mages brought a wizard we trust here first. He’s bringing the rest.’ Corrain wasn’t about to detail the endless arguments before that had been agreed.
As he spoke the kitchen gable timepiece struck its first chime. Before the lingering note was replaced by the second, six figures appeared at the bottom of the steps.
‘Elder Raso.’ Corrain bowed before turning to the Tormalin youth. ‘May I make known to you Yadres Den Dalderin, of Toremal. Esquire, may I make known to you Gaveren Raso, wizard of the Fifth Order of Fornet.’
He didn’t bother introducing any of the other five Solurans. ‘Shall we go in? The lady adepts are waiting.’
He led the way into the great hall, not looking back to see that they were following. If they didn’t this day was as good as over and the Solurans would be the ones to rue it.
Two women sat at the high table; Lady Guinalle in a formal brown silk gown and Sister Alebis, wearing a charcoal robe with a creamy woollen surcoat. An armed and armoured guard stood behind them.
Corrain was still amused to recall the shock on the Halferan troopers’ faces when they realised that the Soluran lady adept’s escort was a tall and well-muscled girl. Then again, he recalled his own surprise at seeing how many Soluran women wore breeches and sword belts without asking any man’s leave.
‘Good day to you.’ Guinalle Tor Priminale stood and gestured courteously to the high table’s empty chairs. ‘Please be seated and declare yourselves and the Orders you represent.’
Corrain noted the Solurans’ expressions ranged from wary to sulky. That didn’t concern him. What he had feared was open hostility. His hopes rose slightly to see them so cowed.
‘Ifestal Sansem of the Order of Detich.’ The first woman to take a seat looked the most apprehensive.
‘Lymas Reson of the Order of Ancorr.’ This man’s resentment was tempered by fea
r as he looked at the old woman seated beside Guinalle.
‘Stryol Dephad of the Order of Ontesk.’ The man huddled in his chair as though that might somehow reduce his guilt.
‘Munon Inait of the Order of Noerut.’ She looked resigned until she glanced at the Detich magewoman and her eyes narrowed with bitterness.
‘Glanoy Trefet of the Order of Temosul.’ He dropped into his seat, mumbling his name.
Lady Guinalle nodded serenely. ‘As agreed I am here as Archmage Planir’s representative while Sister Alebis of the House of Sanctified Repose will bear witness for Solura’s adepts. Gaveren Raso of Fornet is here on behalf of the Orders of Wizardry so shamed by your greed and aggression.’
Corrain saw all five mages sit up straighter, shocked to hear such condemnation in her polite tones.
Ifestal Sansem raised a swift hand. ‘We—’
‘You clearly forgot the obligation laid upon every Soluran Order to rally against any attack on wizardry,’ Gaveren Raso said coldly. ‘The Elders of the Lake of Kings have made it plain that such obligation is not limited to defending other Solurans. Your attacks upon Hadrumal would entitle us to raze your Orders’ towers to the ground and execute you all.’
‘No laws forbid the corruption of aetheric adepts,’ Sister Alebis observed, ‘since such a crime has never occurred. However I have full authority from my House’s Revered Mother to administer whatever discipline I see fit, since your selfish actions have seen the most promising adepts in three different Houses lose years of learning in the blink of an eye.’
Corrain wondered how those newly ignorant adepts were faring. He didn’t ask.
‘We are grateful to Baron Halferan for offering us this meeting place,’ Guinalle continued as though there had been no interruption, ‘and for bearing witness on behalf of Caladhria’s people. We also welcome Yadres Den Dalderin, to bear witness to Emperor Tadriol.’
As she smiled at the Tormalin nobleman, Corrain was pleased to see Den Dalderin looking almost as wary as the Soluran wizards. He ushered the Tormalin youth to a seat at the end of the table and went to stand a few paces away. Kusint took up a similar stance on the other side of the dais.
‘Soluran law would see you punished severely. However Planir of Hadrumal has asked that we seek some agreement to avoid any legacy of ill-feeling dividing your two traditions of wizardry. Hadrumal’s mages know full well that the most corrupt and vicious magecraft is found in Mandarkin. They acknowledge Solura’s invaluable role in confining such malice beyond the mountains.’
Reson of Ancorr couldn’t restrain himself. ‘Then let us have the means to fight them! These artefacts—’
Guinalle silenced him with an unexpected nod of agreement. ‘Hadrumal’s Council has agreed to offer those few artefacts which may be of some use in countering the Mandarkin to the Order of Fornet, to be distributed among the other Orders as the Fornet Elders see fit.’
‘Do not imagine that your own Orders will see a single piece.’ Gaveren Ruso’s quick venom wiped an instant of ill-disguised triumph from Ifestal of Detich’s face.
Corrain also noted the chagrin on Trefet of Temosul’s face.
Once again, Guinalle continued calmly. ‘Archmage Planir asks me to remind you that Hadrumal’s mages have discovered the secret of destroying these ensorcelled artefacts. They will not hesitate to act if they discover their magecraft is being abused. He encourages you to remember that however arduous discovering such a new spell may be, magecraft becomes easier the more it is repeated, refined and shared.’
‘We have asked the Archmage to teach this working to the Elders of Fornet,’ Gaveren Raso interjected, ‘to help us drive back those Mandarkin tyrants who arm their minions with such purloined magic.’
Now Corrain saw regret choking Inait of Noerut. How foolish she had been to ally herself with those threatening Hadrumal rather than seeking some accommodation with the Archmage.
She would feel more than foolish when she knew the full story, he silently predicted to himself.
‘Moreover Suthyfer’s mages have recently perfected a range of spells to unite different mages of the same affinity.’ A fond smile escaped Guinalle momentarily. ‘Since Mandarkin wizards use similar magic in foul and destructive fashion, Usara of Suthyfer offers to teach Solura’s Orders this magecraft for their own use.’
Corrain saw Trefet and Inait exchange glances of hopeful astonishment and wondered how often such predatory magic had been used against them in those border forests and mountains.
Then he noticed Ifestal Sansem sit up straight with that same ill-concealed smugness. ‘We’re pleased to see—’
‘In return,’ Guinalle spoke over her with implacable courtesy, ‘Solura’s Orders of Wizardry will forswear the search for and the use of quintessential magic within the kingdom’s boundaries and anywhere north of the Great West Road.’
‘No.’ Sansem slammed her hands down on the table. ‘Planir of Hadrumal cannot dictate—’
‘You are mistaken.’ As Sister Alebis skewered the magewoman with a look, Guinalle sat, deferring to the adept.
Sansem of Detich screamed and clutched her head. Inait of Noerut slumped forward onto the table, her face the colour of sour milk.
Trefet of Temosul sprang to his feet, his toppled chair crashing onto the dais. The wizard’s strength failed him and he collapsed to huddle on the floorboards, panting like a dog.
Dephad of Ontesk sat so frozen in his seat, eyes screwed shut, that Corrain was tempted to shove him, just to see if he was alive or unconscious.
Reson of Ancorr whimpered, lips bloodless as he gripped the sides of his seat with white knuckled hands.
Corrain felt his own palms sweating with apprehension. As he wiped them stealthily on his thighs, he met Kusint’s gaze. The Forest-born lad offered him an unobtrusive nod of encouragement and support.
‘May I ask,’ Yadres Den Dalderin was pale with trepidation, ‘what is amiss?’ He looked at the empty chair beside him. ‘What has happened to Master Raso of Fornet?’
Sister Alebis smiled. ‘There is no need to subject him to this demonstration. While our bodies remain in Halferan’s great hall under his watchful eye, our minds are now united in an aetheric construct. I see you are familiar with the term, Esquire,’ she noted thoughtfully.
‘You may not know that such Artifice bars wizards from all contact with their mageborn element. As you see, this can prove distressing. We will allow them to compose themselves.’
The edge in her words made that more a command that mere courtesy. Corrain saw the Soluran wizards struggle to gather their wits. He felt his own heart beat faster as he contemplated what was to come.
Sister Alebis contemplated the stricken wizards until she was satisfied that she had their full attention.
‘It is not Planir of Hadrumal who denies Solura quintessential magic,’ she told them coldly. ‘Your arrogance and folly have drawn the attention of the sheltya of the high peaks and their displeasure could have the gravest consequences for us all. This temporary aetheric confinement deprived of your magic is the mildest of the punishments which they could inflict.’
Her voice grew sterner still. ‘Since you have proved yourself irredeemably foolish, I will not ask if you believe me. I will show you proof.’
The gimlet eyed old woman looked at Corrain and he braced himself. He fixed his own gaze on Kusint at the other end of the dais.
He would never have agreed to this without seeing the Forest lad endure this Artifice first. Kusint had promised that the trial was nothing Corrain couldn’t endure, not after all he had suffered before. Hosh had shared every detail of his own experiences in Col’s adepts’ company. Both of them had sworn this would seem no more than a dream.
Corrain would have said more of a nightmare. He stood, unable to move, unable to speak, as recollection of all his encounters with the Mountain adepts flowed through his mind.
He had no notion how Sister Alebis was sharing his memories with the Soluran wizards but
hearing their distant exclamations proved she was doing just that. His encounter with Aritane after her memories had been obliterated prompted particular consternation.
Finally, his mind’s eye lingered on the mage Despin’s body, collapsed in Hadrumal’s Council chamber. According to Jilseth, the wizard was slowly wasting away, lying senseless in his bed, despite Mentor Garewin’s ceaseless efforts to revive him.
A wail from Dephad of Ontesk told Corrain that the merciless old woman had shared that with the five mages as well.
When he feared he couldn’t stand it any longer, he felt himself suddenly released from her invisible bonds. He drew a deep, grateful breath and did his best to conceal the weakness in his knees.
Den Dalderin yelped as Gaveren Raso appeared beside him. The Fornet mage contemplated his stricken compatriots, not even trying to conceal his satisfaction at their suffering.
‘It would be a grave mistake,’ Sister Alebis remarked, ‘to think that Solura’s adepts don’t know the secrets of such Artifice. Rather, you should be grateful that learning aetheric magic is such a lengthy process. By the time we have perfected such Artifice, we are generally old enough to have acquired the wisdom not to use it.’
Guinalle rose to her feet again. ‘While I lack the honoured sister’s years, you would also be gravely mistaken if you underestimate Suthyfer’s adepts. You should also know that we are bound to Suthyfer’s mages by the closest ties of respect and affection.’
Corrain was impressed by how threatening such a mild-mannered woman could be, speaking so politely. The Suthyfer adept was more terrifying than Sister Alebis’s sword-belted companion still standing silently at the back of the dais.
‘Hadrumal has no wish to quarrel with any Soluran mages. Such conflict will cost everyone dear. But know this: if you insist on fighting, you will lose,’ Guinalle assured the five men and women, still whey-faced and trembling.
‘Very well.’ Sister Alebis looked across the table to Gaveren Raso. ‘I believe our business here is concluded.’
‘Forgive me, sister, not quite.’ Guinalle sat down and looked at Yadres Den Dalderin, who was sitting shocked into stillness, his expression haunted.
Defiant Peaks (The Hadrumal Crisis) Page 49
