by Kris A Hiatt
“Do you doubt his power?”
“No. But it’s not his power I question,” Moff explained. “I question his motives and his allegiance.”
“I don’t question either.”
“How can you not?”
“We approached him, not the other way around. I’m not sure he has much for motive,” Treace explained. “He left Kadenton with you to come to Haven when he thought he’d be part of the meeting at the College.”
“So you think that makes him aligned with Haven now?”
“Of course not,” Treace told his friend. “I think Kint is aligned with Kint. Or at least with magical power, which he seems to have a lot of.”
“But still, a magister? What makes you think Drevic will agree?”
“As long as we come back with Kint, I don’t think it will matter. Besides, he’ll listen to my counsel.”
“I know he values your thoughts,” Moff told him. “But making a magister out of someone we know very little about is foolish. Drevic is many things, but foolish is not one of them.”
Moff was most likely right, but it was a good way to get Kint to come with them. He couldn’t think of a better way to convince the man. “Do you have any other ideas?”
“I have an idea that I could use a break and I’m sure our horses could use a drink,” Moff replied. “There’s a stream up ahead we should stop at.”
Treace didn’t disagree. They had been riding for quite some time without stopping. To this point his tan mare had offered very little complaint with the trip. He was sure she deserved to rest for a little while. “Well let’s hope we come up with something,” Treace said. “I’d hate to meet Kint with nothing more to offer than simply begging the man.”
“That’d be a sight. The Wolf down on his knees begging an old man to ride with him.”
“If I thought it would help, then I would,” Treace said sincerely.
“Leave it to me. I’m working out a plan as we speak.”
“Good. What is it?”
“I don’t have it all worked out yet,” Moff told him. “Just wait until I’m finished.”
~~~
“Do you have a plan, or don’t you?” Treace asked for what he thought was at least the hundredth time. He was having doubts that Moff even had a plan. They had ridden to within a few minutes of their destination. The number of people they had seen on the road continued to increase with each passing minute. Treace was glad he wasn’t wearing his armor. At Moff’s request, he also tied his swords to the sides of his horse’s saddle so he wouldn’t stand out or be imposing. He was getting better at riding, but his body ached, especially his ass. He guessed that’s why things were annoying him more easily. He wished they had pushed on further last night so the ride today would have been shorter. As it was they had been riding most of the day and only had a few hours of light left.
“I do,” Moff assured him.
“Care to fill me in on it?” Treace asked impatiently.
“You’ll catch on when the time comes,” Moff replied. “It’ll be better if your responses are organic.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Treace asked, feeling a little hurt.
“You’re a terrible liar.”
“So wouldn’t it be better for me to be prepared?”
“Just trust me.”
“That’s comforting,” Treace said. He didn’t like not knowing the plan, but he had pestered Moff for hours and it was clear that he wasn’t going to let him in on it.
“His house sits well off the road,” Moff explained. “He has large spice fields all around him, so he’ll see us coming.”
“Us?” Treace asked. “You’re supposed to stay away from the house.”
“It’s all part of the plan. His house is just over the next rise.”
“But Drevic’s instructions were for you to stay away,” Treace reminded him.
“Good thing he’s not here to reprimand me then.”
Treace didn’t have anything to say to that. They were nearing Kint’s house and he wouldn’t have enough time to argue with his friend over it if he kept going. He decided he’d have to stop. “Whoa,” he told his horse as he pulled back on the reins, bringing it to a halt. His horse stamped it’s hooves for a moment before settling down. His horse and Moff both looked back at him at the same time. Under different circumstances he might have found that humorous.
“You can wait here if you want,” Moff offered. “But I’m going to Kint’s house.”
“You’re such a jackass,” Treace told him, urging his horse into moving up with his friend again. He thought of trying to convince Moff to stop with him and come up with a different plan, but he knew it wouldn’t be fruitful.
“Thanks for the compliment.”
“How is being called a jackass a compliment?”
“It means I got under your skin,” Moff explained. “And if I can get under your skin, I’m doing something right.”
It was crazy how Moff could turn an insult into a compliment. What was crazier was how much sense his explanation made to Treace. Not that he was going to let his friend know that. “Just keep an eye out.”
“And you ignoring the statement proves I’m right.”
Treace said nothing, deciding not to give his friend anything else to comment on.
“Let me do the talking,” Moff instructed as they crested the rise.
“Fine,” Treace replied. He looked all around for anything out of place, but didn’t see anything. The spice fields around the home were large and an earthy yet spicy aroma filled his nose.
“I didn’t see anyone on the road that I knew,” Moff said. “So it’s very unlikely anyone knows we are here.”
“That’s a good thing.”
“Yeah, so relax,” Moff told him.
“I am relaxed.”
“The death grip you have on your saddle horn says otherwise,” Moff argued, directing his gaze down toward Treace’s hand.
Treace followed his friend’s eyes and was surprised to find Moff was right. He loosened his grip on the saddle before removing it completely. His palm was white from the lack of blood. He had no idea he was so nervous. He didn’t feel that he was. He shook his hand out as they continued on.
They rode down the path leading to Kint’s home in silence. Treace could clearly see the tops of the buildings that formed Kadenton on his left, marveling at how he had missed them up until this point. They stood clearly against the sky in the distance. He couldn’t see a cliff, but from what Moff told him, Kadenton sat on the edge of one that overlooked the Gulf of Onneron. He wished he could see the city before leaving. He imagined it would be a beautiful sight. As it would turn out, he was both right and wrong.
“You see that?” Moff asked.
“See what?” Treace asked, looking away from Kadenton and to his friend. He only needed to move his eyes since Moff was riding on his left. His friend was still staring straight ahead.
“I saw someone looking out at us through the window.”
The homes he had passed this far south had a window on nearly every wall of their home. They were different than the homes in Lake City. It was cooler there and most homes typically only had one window facing east. It was the only direction the sun was able to shine through into the homes. The mountains surrounding the city didn’t offer much direct sunlight, so more windows weren’t as common. That and due to the colder climate, they weren’t open as often. “At least we know someone’s home.”
“You see the big tree by the porch?” Moff asked, gesturing to it.
“Yep,” Treace replied. He didn’t need Moff’s gesture to see what his friend was talking about. It was the largest tree around the home and its green leaves were full. He could hear the wind whispering through them.
“You’ll see his handprint on it when we get closer. It’s on the other side, facing the porch.”
Treace recalled Moff telling him about how Kint’s hand had burned into the tree and was impressed by the feat. He
wondered again what else the man was capable of.
“What do you two gentlemen want?” a feminine voice asked.
Treace silently berated himself for looking at the stupid tree. He snapped his head toward the speaker, displeased with himself that he didn’t notice her before she noticed them. All thoughts left him then and he found he couldn’t speak.
Chapter 6
“Open them!” Brental commanded the two younger brothers as he neared the gates to the College.
“The Archmagister has returned!” one of the men shouted.
“Sir!” the other said, sliding the retaining bar from the gates and giving it a shove.
Brental strode through, making his way to his quarters. He could hear the echoes of other brothers informing everyone the Archmagister had returned. “Yes I have,” he muttered to himself. “Just not for very long.” He cursed Shamir in his mind.
Brothers were running into the courtyard as Brental approached. Many offered bows while others welcomed him back. And others, the ones that weren’t truly brothers but instead were the men that Shamir had sent, simply nodded. They were still dressed in robes of various colors, but to Brental they stood out. This was his order. No one knew the brothers like he did.
“Fetch Ferral,” he commanded one actual brother.
He nodded and started to run off.
“No need,” Ferral said, rounding the corner. “I’m already here.”
The young brother gave a curt bow as his superiors passed.
“By the look on your face I’d say you know about the men,” Ferral told him.
“You’d be right,” Brental replied.
“And you approved?”
“I was given no choice,” Brental replied in hushed tones. “But keep your voice down.”
“Voice down?” Ferral asked. “This is our home, not theirs!”
Brental closed his eyes and tried to convince himself that Magister Ferral wasn’t one of the numerous other idiots he dealt with every single day. It was difficult because he despised being questioned and he liked it less when it was from someone who should know better. He gritted his teeth and sucked in a breath before replying in a loud whisper, “Shut your damned mouth!”
Ferral’s eyes opened wide and the man stopped long enough to give a deep bow. “I am truly sorry, Archmagister.”
“Keep it shut until we are behind closed doors,” Brental instructed as he continued to walk.
He was happy to not hear a reply.
He made his way up the stairs and down the hall to his quarters. He wasn’t surprised to find two of Shamir’s men posted outside of his room.
“You two are dismissed,” he told them in pleasant tones.
They looked at each other but neither of them moved.
“Sir,” said one, bowing. “Shamir instructed us to ensure you were given our assistance to make it back in a timely matter.”
“And to do that I need to collect my belongings and take inventory. Nothing of any interest, I assure you,” he explained, opening the doors to his room. The room was not in the condition he thought it would be. It was in perfect order.
“You’re leaving again?” Ferral asked. “For how long?”
“Gentlemen,” Brental said pleasantly. “I do apologize. It’s been quite a trip. I assure you I will be ready to leave in the morning. Please excuse yourselves, I need to speak to my friend in private and you really aren’t needed.”
The men looked at each other uneasily.
“I’m sure you’ll find some food in the mess hall,” Brental suggested.
“Sir,” one said, bowing to Brental before taking his leave.
The other did likewise.
Once they were in the room, Brental closed the doors and turned around to find Ferral staring at him with a look of astonishment. “What?”
Ferral shook his head. “I’ve just never seen you be so pleasant.”
“They undoubtedly have instructions to fill Shamir in on everything I say and do. I’d rather have them report things I want Shamir to know, not what I don’t,” Brental explained, dropping the pleasant tone in his voice.
“He’s keeping tabs on us,” Ferral stated. “I can see why that annoys you.”
“Exactly,” Brental said, happy that for once he didn’t have to explain everything. He almost felt bad for yelling at Ferral.
“Am I going with you?”
“No,” Brental replied. “I am leaving you in charge while I’m gone.”
“What do you need me to do?”
“Several things,” Brental told him. “To start, don’t let them anywhere near our coffers. Keep them a secret if you can. Don’t let them in there unless you have written instructions from me.”
“I told them you had the key,” Ferral offered.
“Good,” Brental told him, handing him the key. “Keep it that way.” He knew the man would need money to keep the College running while he was away.
“Will do,” Ferral replied, taking the key and securing it in an inner pocket.
“Other than you, who is our strongest magic user?”
“Sentin, most likely.”
“I don’t trust him,” Brental said. In fact, he was surprised the man was still here. He thought Sentin would have left to go serve Drevic by now. The fact that he hadn’t only served to make Brental more suspicious of the man. “I’d guess Herra.”
“Yeah, after Sentin, Herra,” Ferral agreed. “I was thinking Herra could take over Path of Heart, but since it seems you aim to take him with you, I can do that instead.”
“You’re already instructing Path of Tears and Path of Fire.”
“We could promote one of the other magisters to a teaching position,” Ferral offered.
He hadn’t told Ferral of Nimbril’s dereliction in selecting students yet and he didn’t believe that now was the best time to do so, but it was the only time that he had. The man supported him and stayed with him after he took over. He deserved to know the truth. He needed to know what he was up against. For now, Ferral was going to have to do as much as possible with what little he had. The others surely weren’t capable. He didn’t even know if Ferral truly was. “No, you’re right. It should be you. You’re the most capable.”
“I won’t let you down,” Ferral assured him.
“Go inform Herra that he’ll need to be ready by morning,” Brental instructed. He did hope Ferral wouldn’t let him down. The man was the closest thing he had to a friend. “And then come back to me. I’ve a tale to tell.”
“Yes, Archmagister.”
He went about the business of packing up his belongings, careful to take only what he thought he needed other than the journals. Those were the most important by far. Nearly everything else could be replaced when he arrived in Kadenton. But the journals were priceless. At least he hoped them to be.
~~~
Brental had finished telling Ferral about what he had found in Nimbril’s journals. Prior to knowing the truth, Ferral had agreed to support Brental after the takeover. He suspected it took a lot for his friend to follow him blindly. He could see the relief on Ferral’s face after hearing the news. “You seem relieved.”
“Truth be told, I am.”
“You supported my ascension without knowing the truth of the man. Know that it isn’t lost on me,” Brental told him. He normally wouldn’t be so open, but he didn’t know how the whole mess with Shamir would play out. He didn’t know if he could pull off having mages fight alongside Shamir’s men. He figured if he didn’t, then Ferral would most likely become the next Archmagister of the College. The man may as well have a fighting chance at succeeding in the event that it turned out that way.
“I did have a few doubts, but I knew the fire in your veins and how much you wanted this order to succeed,” Ferral told him.
“Of course you had doubts. You’re an intelligent man. Anyone with intelligence would doubt what I did.”
“I doubt you no more,” Ferral stated.
�
��Good,” Brental told him. “But I need you to go on as if I didn’t tell you any of this.”
“What?”
“For now,” Brental added after seeing the shocked look on Ferral’s face. He guessed the man expected to immediately start removing those he deemed unworthy. “We don’t want to arouse any suspicions that something is out of the ordinary.”
“Business as usual?” Ferral asked.
“As usual,” Brental agreed. “But start taking notes of who you think belongs and who doesn’t. When I return we’ll go over the list together and remove those who don’t deserve to be here.”
“Yes, Archmagister.”
With the recent tirade notwithstanding, Ferral usually said the right things and didn’t question his orders. Brental was starting to think that even if the man wasn’t the strongest magic user, he may be useful to keep around. Not that he was worried about any of the existing members opposing his rule. Those members would be removed immediately. Instead, he was thinking it was nice to have someone’s support without it being forced. “Send couriers each week keeping me apprised of the events happening here.”
Ferral simply nodded his head in agreement.
“That is all,” Brental said, dismissing the man. While he wanted Ferral to know that he trusted him, he didn’t want him to think he’d gone soft.
“Archmagister,” Ferral said.
Brental watched as Ferral bowed and left the room.
~~~
“Here comes our captor,” Destin said as Brental walked into the room.
While it was true they weren’t free to come and go as they pleased, they were far from being captives. He was hoping his good fortune from Kilindric would follow him here, but he guessed he was wrong about that. With one statement Destin was able to sour his mood. “I could have you placed in a cell instead, if you’d prefer that?”
“Make no mistake, Archmagister,” Destin replied, exaggerating the last word. “While there may not be any bars on these walls, it’s still a cell.”
“Why are you so negative?” Brental asked.
“We’re being held hostage!” Joran whined. “How can we not be?”
