Dangerous Waters

by Juliet E. McKenna

  They found a meagre streamlet in a crevice shaded by an opportune tree. They each drank their fill and, once again, Corrain wished for a knife. With a blade he could have fashioned something to carry water for their voyage.

  This was madness. They couldn’t hope to make the crossing so hopelessly ill-supplied. Three weeks without food, three days without water. That’s what his old sergeant-at-arms had told him a man could survive. Three days, that had always been the rowing time from the Khusro domain to their first glimpse of Cape Attar, southernmost tip of the mainland.

  He looked down at the sandy beach. How could they steal a boat and be safely away in it before those fishermen saw them and chased them down?

  What choice did they have? There was no going back. Give up and they might as well jump to their deaths on the black rocks as die slowly lost in the forest. Give up and whatever Hosh was suffering for his sake would be for nothing. Whatever the lad was suffering for the sake of their oath to Halferan and the vengeance they sought on Minelas.

  Corrain couldn’t stomach that. He wiped stray drops from his chin. ‘Come on.’

  As they ran across the sand towards the boats, Corrain’s mouth was as dry as leather. How was that possible with all the cold water sloshing in his belly?

  ‘That one.’ Kusint headed for the closest mooring post.

  Lazy ripples of foam cooled his aching feet as Corrain fumbled at the rope with numb fingers.

  ‘Let me.’ Forest thief or not, Kusint was good with knots. He loosened the hawser inside a few breaths.

  ‘Is it sound?’ Corrain tried to see if the hull showed any damage, if the ropes were rotting, or the sail. This boat could kill them both out on the ocean. But if they didn’t take it, death would surely find them on this island.

  ‘It’ll do,’ Kusint assured him. ‘Quickly, before we’re seen!’

  Together they dragged the boat hissing down the sand. As the eager sea nudged it, Corrain clambered aboard. Kusint had already found an oar to shove them off into these unknown waters. Corrain looked back towards the hamlet, but no one appeared among the huts and nut palms before the cove disappeared behind the headland.

  ‘We did it!’ He surprised himself by laughing out loud.

  ‘Not yet.’ Kusint wasn’t amused. ‘Help me raise the sail. Hold that. Now pull!’

  Thanks be to all the gods that Corrain no longer believed in, Kusint hadn’t been idly boasting when he’d said he could manage a boat.

  The Forest youth guided the tiller and hauled on the ropes, shouting whenever he needed Corrain’s hands or his dead weight hanging perilously over the boat’s side. Corrain did as he was told. It saved him from having to think. It saved him from fearing that every sail they saw, every hull on the distant horizon, was going to bear down to recapture them.

  As soon as they left the sheltering bulk of Khusro Rina’s island, they were at the mercy of the winds. The fishing boat skipped across the waves like a nutshell tossed by a child. After a year as a galley slave, Corrain would have wagered a barony’s gold that he was inured to seasickness. He would have lost his bet before sunset.

  Endlessly trying to vomit on an empty stomach was so vile that he even forgot to fear being washed overboard or being knocked senseless by the triangular sail’s erratically swinging spar.

  Surviving that first night without the boat turning turtle and drowning them was victory enough. The next day was another ordeal of fear, hunger and thirst as they fought yet more violent winds and waves. After a second night of battering, another day that felt like half an eternity and a third night of exhausted terror, the rising sun finally showed them the mainland coast.

  Salvation still lay far out of reach. The currents rounding Cape Attar were fierce and rightly feared. The most that Kusint could do was to keep their frail boat on an even keel as they were swept helplessly along below the towering cliffs.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Trydek’s Hall, Hadrumal

  34th of Aft-Spring

  ‘HEARTH MASTER? YOU called for this meeting. Shall we get to business?’ Planir sounded positively intrigued.

  Jilseth might have expected Kalion to look annoyed by Planir’s veiled amusement. Instead Master Kalion was smiling, taking his ease on an upholstered settle.

  They were in the spacious sitting room where Planir was accustomed to confer with the island’s senior mages. He also used the room to teach his own pupils and to offer guidance or discipline to lowlier apprentice mages, according to their needs and the wishes of whichever Hall Master or Mistress was guiding their studies. Jilseth and her fellow mages handpicked by Planir had perfected their nexus here, working quintessential magic together watched by the silent statues in their niches in the panelled walls.

  The door was always open but Kalion had arrived escorted by three other wizards. That struck Jilseth as unwelcome boldness by the Hearth Master. That wasn’t her only concern. Kalion had specifically requested her presence.

  Planir nodded affably at Kalion’s companions. ‘How are your studies of quintessential magic progressing?’

  Of course, Jilseth should have realised.

  She would have expected to see Ely, who was in an emerald ribbon trimmed gown, sitting close to Galen on the settle beside the seat which Kalion had claimed. Broad-shouldered in dun wool, the earth mage’s blunt-featured face was as impassive as always. It was no surprise to find him in Kalion’s shadow either.

  But Jilseth had been curious to know what Canfor’s presence signified. Tall, thin and prematurely white-haired, the wizard bringing an air affinity to Kalion’s scheming leaned against the window sill, a glass of the Archmage’s wine in his hand.

  He didn’t follow the fashion of wearing his wizardly affinity’s colour; his doublet a muted tan over black breeches. His shirt was Aldabreshin silk though, Jilseth noted.

  She also saw his chagrin. Had he really thought another nexus working in Hadrumal would escape Planir’s attention? She also wondered how Canfor’s oft-voiced disdain for earth-bound magecraft sat with Galen.

  Would that affect the working of their nexus? Planir said he’d taken some considerable care to find four mages who could work together in friendship, when he’d introduced her to Tornauld and then to Merenel and Nolyen, whose fire and water affinities now combined so effectively with her own.

  Jilseth spared a moment to wish they were in this room now. Then she and Planir wouldn’t be so outnumbered. Why weren’t they here? It wasn’t like the Archmage to be outmanoeuvred.

  ‘Our explorations have resulted in some interesting discoveries.’ Kalion smoothed his scarlet tunic. ‘I gather that Mistress Jilseth has been to Caladhria to visit the Widow Halferan. After you recently honoured those lordlings from their parliament with a personal audience in this very hall. Are you finally persuaded that we must curb this menace of the corsairs?’ he demanded.

  ‘No.’ Planir looked unconcerned. ‘Is that all?’

  ‘Hardly,’ Kalion said with some asperity. ‘I take it you’re aware of the way in which Jilseth humiliated Baron Karpis?’

  Planir surveyed the other wizards with interest. ‘I suppose I should be flattered that you’ve been paying such close attention to my dealings on the mainland. And in Hadrumal too?’

  ‘There’s no edict against it,’ Kalion asserted.

  ‘Indeed not,’ Planir agreed. ‘How else could an Element Master or Mistress, or indeed, an Archmage, fulfil all the responsibilities of office? One can hardly do one’s duty without being fully informed.’ This time his smile didn’t reach his steely eyes.

  Jilseth saw Galen redden. Ely lifted her pointed chin, her face bright with defiance. Over by the window, Canfor smiled and drank his wine, not catching anyone’s eye.

  ‘The Council is agreed,’ Kalion said loftily. ‘This business with Caladhria needs very careful handling if Hadrumal’s reputation is to remain unsullied. Such foolishness as Jilseth indulged in discredits us all.’

  Jilseth sat in the high-winged cha
ir next to Planir’s and looked calmly at the Hearth Master. That way she didn’t have to see Ely’s smirk or Canfor’s scorn.

  ‘You mean those members of the council whom you’ve spoken to individually have concurred,’ Planir corrected Kalion. ‘Or they haven’t openly gainsaid you, which you naturally take for agreement. The full Council has yet to discuss any recent events in Caladhria.’

  Kalion’s face hardened. ‘So when will you lay this matter before the Council?’

  ‘Does it really warrant their time?’ Planir plainly doubted it. ‘There’s little new to warrant taking our esteemed colleagues from their studies and obligations. Caladhrian barons are asking for wizardly aid once again. They’ve nothing to add to the ragbag of arguments which I reported to the Council after their last such appeal. And no, Kalion, I haven’t changed my mind on that question. Hadrumal has no business fighting corsairs.’

  The Archmage rose and went over to the side table to pour himself some wine.

  ‘To return to the Caladhrian barons, I granted them an audience since dismissing their concerns by letter would hardly have been courteous. As you and I have long agreed, the mainland’s nobles and princes deserve our respect.’ Planir walked over to the empty fireside, wine glass in hand. ‘On the other side of those scales, travelling to the mainland myself to tell them we cannot oblige, risks encouraging the Caladhrian parliament to believe the Archmage is at their beck and call. I thought it more fitting for the standing of Hadrumal to have their lordships come here as suppliants.’

  Hoping that isolating and intimidating them amid Hadrumal’s halls would convince them to accept the Archmage’s refusal as final. If this wretched business with Minelas hadn’t bobbed up like a dead dog in a well, Jilseth fully believed Planir’s strategy would have succeeded.

  ‘Then why did Jilseth go hurrying off to Halferan’s manor?’ Kalion persisted.

  Planir smiled and looked across the room to Canfor. ‘Your auditory spells proved inadequate at that distance?’

  ‘Thus far, Archmage. I look forward to improvements as I draw on our nexus’s power.’ Canfor didn’t look up. He appeared to be studying the white raven board on the gaming table by the window. Planir often invited apprentices and pupils to play and seemed to be half way through a game.

  Jilseth was glad she had declined a glass of wine. She would have been tempted to throw it in Canfor’s face.

  ‘Well?’ Kalion demanded. Jilseth was pleased to see frustration colouring his fat jowls.

  ‘All in good time. I’m curious to know why you are so adamant that the Council must address this business of these corsairs. Do you believe that we’re at risk here in Hadrumal? Is that why you’ve formed your own nexus, to defend wizardry’s interests?’ The Archmage’s wave of his wine glass encompassed Ely, Galen and Canfor. ‘You have my permission to sink any black galley stumbling through the wards that guard our waters.’

  ‘Do not mock me, Archmage.’ Kalion scowled. ‘As long as these scavengers plague Caladhria, these appeals for our aid will continue. Obstinate rejection reflects ill on us all. Offering aid to the mainland can only enhance wizardry’s reputation.’

  ‘Feel free to propose some compromise to the Council, provided it avoids the grim consequences that prompted my predecessors’ edict.’ Now Planir’s gesture took in the statues around the room. ‘That challenge has defeated wiser mages than me.’

  ‘The wisest Archmages knew to trust their Element Masters and Mistresses,’ Kalion said, with rising ire. ‘Perhaps if you had consulted myself and Troanna as well as Rafrid, this business could have been far better managed.’

  Planir looked at Canfor again. ‘Does your Element Master know that you’re spying – forgive me, scrying on him?’ He waved a careless hand before Canfor could even try to answer. ‘I’ve no doubt he does.’

  ‘As it stands,’ Kalion continued forcefully through the interruption, ‘Caladhria remains plagued by corsairs and the barons believe that we not only refuse to help them, but we’re ready to make festival fools of them without provocation. You say we shouldn’t interfere with mainland affairs yet Jilseth has done just that. You should see the letters I have had from the most influential barons,’ he warned. ‘They are outraged on Baron Karpis’s behalf; that he should be so insulted when he only sought to protect a widow and her children once he learned they had been left unprotected.’

  ‘Lady Zurenne is not unprotected,’ Jilseth said hotly. ‘She has an honest and competent guardian in Lord Licanin, or she will have once the parliament approves him. Whereas Baron Karpis sought to usurp the barons’ authority through force of arms and threats.’

  Planir sat forward in his chair. ‘I will be very interested in those letters, Hearth Master. I’ll be very interested to see how Baron Karpis explains his connivance in the forged grant of guardianship previously inflicted on the Widow Halferan. That’s what Jilseth has been investigating.’ Planir rubbed a hand over his chin. ‘I’m puzzled, Kalion. You pride yourself on your acquaintance with the foremost barons in Caladhria’s parliament. Yet you were wholly unaware of this deceit?

  ‘What are you talking about?’ Kalion was perplexed.

  ‘A forger, a thief, imposed himself on the Widow Halferan as her guardian after her husband’s death. By whatever means, Baron Karpis was induced to support the man’s spurious claims. Once he had robbed this grieving widow and her children, he fled. Should I have refused Lord Licanin’s request to help find the villain? It was mere good fortune that Jilseth was there when Baron Karpis arrived. I hate to think how he might have sought to cover up his collusion if he had ridden into Halferan and found himself with a free hand.’

  ‘There must have been some misunderstanding.’ Kalion looked troubled nevertheless.

  ‘Let us be thankful that the Caladhrian barons don’t know precisely who they’re hunting.’ Planir’s voice hardened. ‘Minelas, once of Grynth and more recently of Hadrumal.’

  ‘The renegade?’ Kalion stiffened with recollection. ‘Who tried to sell his skills to Triolle?’

  ‘The same,’ Planir confirmed.

  Jilseth saw that the notion of Minelas as a renegade came as a complete surprise to Ely, Galen and Canfor. She didn’t have to feign her own startlement. When had Planir told the Hearth Master of Minelas’s perfidy, and why?

  ‘But Minelas is dead.’ Kalion narrowed his eyes at Planir.

  The Archmage nodded. ‘Thanks to Jilseth.’

  She managed to sit stony faced as the other wizards looked at her with sharp astonishment. Not Kalion however. Planir had evidently told him the whole story of her tracking Minelas down in Triolle, only to see him gutted by Sorgrad’s unpredictable and thankfully non-mageborn brother, in the service of Lescar’s rebels.

  ‘However,’ the Archmage continued, ‘this theft predates his treachery in Lescar. If the truth were ever to come out, Hearth Master, your influence in Caladhria would go up in flames. A grievous loss for Hadrumal after your earnest endeavours.’ He sounded wholly sincere.

  ‘But Minelas is dead.’ Kalion’s relief gave way almost immediately to anger. ‘When do you propose to lay this before the Council? We must determine just how thoroughly he has disgraced wizardry.’

  ‘Perhaps Jilseth can be of assistance,’ Canfor observed, beside the window, ‘rendering the truth from his bones.’

  Jilseth hoped her face didn’t betray her nausea at that prospect. She also wondered what Canfor hoped to gain by needling her like that.

  Kalion and Planir both ignored the lean wizard’s remark. Kalion was frowning, deep in thought. ‘As long as no one has reason to suspect Minelas was a mage, we should avoid a scandal. Halferan is a minor barony after all.’

  ‘Quite so.’ Planir nodded. ‘Of scant concern to the principle barons whose estates and commerce look inland, north and east, to Ensaimin and to Tormalin. Jilseth has established that Minelas worked no magic while he was living in Halferan, before he went to sell his skills in Relshaz. With nothing to arouse suspi
cion, there’s no reason why any of his misdeeds should have come to your notice through your noble Caladhrian acquaintance.’

  Jilseth readily grasped the Archmage’s unspoken warning. Accuse Planir of any failing before the Council and the Hearth Master must explain his own lapse, all the more embarrassing given his boasts of mainland influence. But Kalion seemed impervious.

  ‘It’s painfully clear that you underestimated Minelas.’ The Hearth Master couldn’t conceal his satisfaction. ‘You and Rafrid both. I take it you did inform him of such duplicity by one of his own affinity?’

  Kalion had never liked the Cloud Master, Jilseth recalled, even before he’d been elevated by the Council’s endorsement of Planir’s nomination. Naturally Kalion had favoured another candidate.

  ‘Of course.’ Planir seemed surprised that Kalion should ask.

  ‘Not that I blame Rafrid, of course, since Minelas was apprenticed under his predecessor. A worthy element master would have curbed Minelas’s arrogance from the outset,’ Kalion insisted. ‘Now we may all have cause to regret the way in which you allowed Otrick such licence to pursue his own flights of fancy at the expense of fulfilling his duties.’

  ‘I believe the Council will agree that I showed fitting respect for a Cloud Master many decades my senior in office,’ Planir mused. ‘Besides, Otrick always warned me against reining in apprentices too tightly. Those with talent can become too cowed to realise their potential—’ his gaze drifted towards Ely ‘—while those naturally inclined to rebel will be more likely to do so. If they leave Hadrumal half-trained as well as resentful, the consequences can be all the more perilous for mundane and mageborn alike.’

  Planir wagged a chiding finger. ‘You cannot run with the hare and hunt with the hounds, Kalion. If you want mainlanders to believe that wizards are not all Hadrumal’s minions, ready to do the Archmage’s dread bidding, we must allow our prentice-mages the freedom to travel and to make their own choices about where they might live and hone their magecraft.’