The Mages of Bennamore

by Pauline M. Ross

  That was a surprise.

  “You’ll feel a bit strange for a few days,” he said. “Usually with a healing, the magic is very focused, it works directly on whatever bit is damaged, but with a strong fever like this…” He spread his hands wide. “Losh just had to pour magic into you, and hope it worked. A lot of magic, actually. You may find one or two other things improved.”

  “What sort of things?”

  “Well, anything, really.” He shrugged. “Are you cold? I’ll build up the fire. You must be starving. I’ve got food.”

  He had, too. On a table were heaped platters of cold meat, slabs of cheese, loaves of bread and a dazzling array of sweet things. I wasn’t very hungry – the magic, I supposed – but I nibbled some bread to please him as he bustled round. When he was finally convinced I wasn’t cold, and he’d run out of edibles to ply me with, he sat on the chair, watching me eat.

  “Is that all you want? You’ve hardly taken anything. Are you sure you’re all right?”

  He jumped up and put his hand to my forehead. I felt that slight tingle – magic, but nothing like the effect from Losh. So he was wearing his belt, then.

  “I’m fine. I feel – very well. Surprisingly well. I’m just not hungry yet.”

  “Sorry. I’m fussing, aren’t I?” He grunted, and sat down again.

  I wasn’t about to tell him not to fuss. After quarter moons of ignoring me, I was grateful to have his attention again. It wasn’t that I particularly liked him, I told myself, but after so many years alone, it was comforting to be cared for and looked after. Until recently Mal had always been solicitous. I hated it when he was cold and distant.

  “Look, Fen…” He rubbed his nose, shame-faced. “I’m sorry I’ve been so horrible to you. I really shouldn’t have taken it out on you, but… I was surprised. I didn’t expect—”He stopped, heaving a great sigh. “I’m sorry, that’s all.”

  “I’m sorry too.” I watched his face carefully, saw his eyebrows rise. “It was stupid of me.”

  “It’s all right, I understand.” He sat forward on his chair, his face alight. “Really, I do. You’ve been used to a better life, it must have been… I can see what made you…”

  He stopped, looking embarrassed. Neither of us liked to say the word ‘steal’ outright, so we were skittering round the subject.

  “I should have trusted you more,” he said. “I can’t expect you to trust me when I—”

  “I don’t trust anyone, not any more.”

  My voice was sharper than I intended, and for a moment he was shocked. Then he shook his head, running a hand across his face. “Poor Fen. That’s a terrible way to feel. I wish…” A pause. “Look, I think you’re right, we should talk about – everything. Sort things out. I don’t suppose you’ll ever really trust me, but I’d like to think you could confide in me. If ever you needed to. Maybe see me as a friend?”

  His voice rose, almost pleading with me. I smiled. That was better.

  ~~~~~

  When I saw Losh the next morning at morning table, he looked drawn, as if he’d aged ten years overnight. He was sitting staring at his plate, but when he looked up and saw me, he brightened a little, smiling wanly.

  I went straight to him and hugged him.

  “Thank you so much for healing me. I didn’t realise before… I’m sorry I doubted the power of your magic.”

  “It is not easy to believe without experiencing it for yourself. Plenty in Bennamore think we are frauds, too.”

  “You should be a little more showy,” I said. “A bit of fire and smoke, some sparkling colours, wave a few silk scarves around – people like a performance.”

  He laughed and shook his head.

  “Fen, Fen! That would make us entertainers.” He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Magic is a serious business.”

  But his eyes were twinkling.

  Since I felt so well, and hungry at last, Mal took me out to a platter house for noon table. Because of the fever in town, the streets were almost deserted. Only a few junior servants scurried about in the shadows, the gulls wailing mournfully overhead. I lifted my face to the sun as we walked, grateful to be myself again and filled with energy.

  The platter house was empty, the owner effusively grateful for our patronage. Mal chose a quiet corner where we could talk undisturbed. We waited till our food had arrived and we’d made progress in demolishing the artistically arranged dishes before either of us spoke.

  “Now, Fen, we must be honest with each other,” he began.

  Instantly, I was a child again, hauled before my mother for yet another imagined transgression. ‘Now, Fendristia, we must tell the truth, must we not?’ she would say in her honking tones. ‘We must admit to our failings and weaknesses, so that the Goddess will forgive us.’ In vain I would protest my innocence, deny any knowledge of the supposed crime, explain that I wasn’t even there. ‘Fendristia, this will not do. We must confess and accept our punishment, or the Demons of the Deep will come to claim us in the night.’ In the end, it was easier to agree that, yes, I’d done whatever it was. Then I had to invent all the details to satisfy her. If I learned anything from my mother, it was how to lie convincingly.

  I had to force myself to focus on Mal’s words.

  “We’ve both got secrets,” he said. “We’ve both done things we don’t want anyone to know about. You’ve…” A long pause, while he considered his words. “Well, we know what you’ve done. And I—”

  “Mal, let’s not sail twice round the island,” I snapped. “I stole from my employer. All my employers.” Such ordinary words, yet so difficult to say. My world shifted slightly, and then settled into a new pattern. One where I told the truth. How novel.

  He gave me a wary look. “Hmph. All right. And I’ve been using magic, which only mages are allowed to do.” He shrugged. “I didn’t even have a good reason for it, except curiosity. The belts were there, no one was using them, I just wondered what it was like. Lenya and I both tried. She thought it might be useful to have some extra defences down here, not quite knowing what to expect.”

  Well, of course. We’re such savages on the coast, and Bennamorians are so civilised. I tried not to roll my eyes.

  He quirked an eyebrow. “You’re giving me that look again, but we’ve heard stories about the coast. I expect you’ve heard stories about Bennamore, too. You’d never think we were all one country once, would you? Anyway, the belts haven’t worked out quite as we expected. We can’t actually use any of their magic without giving ourselves away, so it’s more a protective device, to stop either of us from being spelled. I can see magic with it, somehow – a sort of glow. And I can see lies. But you must have guessed that.”

  I hadn’t, but it made sense. He’d known at once when I’d lied to him, and he’d warned me about Ish lying.

  “How?” I asked. “How can you see lies?”

  “Well…” He set down his wineglass, and reached for the jug to refill it. “It’s peculiar, but there’s this blue glow around the head. It just flares up, then dies away again. You have to be watching for it.”

  I pondered that, while I mopped up the last of a buttery sauce with bread. “So you watch people. You watch me. You watch Ish.”

  “I try not to,” he said quickly. “I don’t want to know. No, don’t look so disbelieving, I mean it. If…” He threw me a quick glance, then looked down at his wine. “If he lies to you, I want to know nothing about it. It doesn’t necessarily mean anything anyway, when people lie. Sometimes it’s just… politeness. So I try not to watch people, especially your Holder friend.”

  “Why him in particular? I thought you didn’t like him?”

  “I don’t, not much. I didn’t trust him at all, at first. But… he cares for you. He’s called at the house every afternoon to ask after you while you’ve been ill. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. I’ve seen the way you look at him, too. Although…” He scratched his nose thoughtfully.

  “Go on.”

  “Wel
l, it’s funny, you get on so well, the two of you, you’re as well matched as a pair of gloves, but whenever anyone talks about him, calls him by his title, you screw your mouth up as if there was a bad smell in the room.”

  “He’s the Holder!” I hissed. “It shouldn’t even be possible. It’s against the law. He lost his rank just as I did, and now he’s the Holder!”

  “Have you asked him how he did it?”

  “No! I don’t want to know. Can you imagine if he’s discovered some minor clause buried in a treaty dragons’ years old which allows him full restitution? Which would have allowed me full restitution? How do you think that would make me feel?”

  “Ah. Yes. If it’s any comfort, no one at the Hold knows how he did it either. They’re as bemused as you are.”

  “Really? You asked people?”

  “I raised the issue, yes,” he said. “Casually. I train up there quite often with the Defenders, learning their methods—”

  “So you’ll defeat us more easily next time, I suppose.”

  “No.” He sounded surprised at the idea. “Not at all. I like to learn different weapons. The harpoon is quite interesting. And the way they use left-handers in formation—” He saw my face, and his lips quirked. “Well, anyway, when I was trying to find out about Hesta, I spent some time getting them relaxed, buying ale and gaming with them, that sort of thing. I asked about a lot of things, getting them talking.”

  “And they don’t know? Surely it was discussed at the time?”

  “Oh yes, but no one knows what happened. It was at the special meeting of all the Holders last autumn—”

  “Convocation. And?”

  “It was all about the war, supposedly, but your… your friend emerged as the Holder for Dristomar. No reason given, no complaint about the previous Holder, no fuss made, it just happened.”

  “Oh. That is odd.” I didn’t know what to make of that, something so unprecedented, yet passed without much of a splash. “Maybe I should ask Ish about it after all.”

  “It would be interesting to hear his explanation. He must have been party to it.”

  “Not necessarily. Decisions are made by the Holders, and he was outer orbit then.” Mal looked blank. “The lowest ranking of family members. He wouldn’t have been involved in any official discussions. Maybe he wasn’t even there. She would have been there, though. The Moon Holder.”

  “The – what?”

  “Ish’s predecessor. He’s known as the Sun Holder, the previous Holder is the Moon Holder, the one before that – Ish’s father – is the Drayzor Holder, and so on, through the lesser moons and then the constellations. They lose their names, remember, so they have to have some distinguishing title. The Moon Holder would have been at Convocation. I wonder what she made of it.”

  I sipped my wine absently, while Mal turned his attention to the remains of a slice of mutton. Finally he pushed the plate away and wiped his knife clean, tucking it back into its sheath on his belt. The servants silently cleared the platters away and brought us bowls to wash in, before placing plates heaped with plump fruits before us, and jugs of thick cream.

  Mal watched me tuck in with relish. “This place is expensive, my love, but it’s worth the silver to see you so enjoying your food.”

  “I always enjoy my food,” I mumbled, trying not to dribble juice down my shirt.

  “You enjoy it more when someone else is paying.” There was no hint of amusement on his face.

  I set my spoon down carefully and swallowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Only that I don’t understand you. I’ve never seen you spend a single bit on yourself, your clothes are shabby, you have no jewels, no extravagances. You earn a good salary and all your daily expenses are met, yet you never spend coin if you can help it. So what do you do with it, this money you steal? Where does it go to? Are you supporting a family in secret?”

  For a moment I couldn’t breathe. It was too much, after so many years of silence, to hear him speak of it so casually, almost flippantly. We had a pact of honesty, but this was beyond the limits of my tolerance. Yet we’d agreed. I had to tell him everything.

  He stared at me coldly, waiting for my answer. Deep breath. With trembling hands, I pulled my meat knife from my waist bag. It was a utilitarian piece, battered and dented from years of use, the blade sharp enough but notched in a couple of places. It was barely worthy of the title kooria, but it was the only piece of Shannamar I had left. I set it on the table between us.

  Mal’s face flickered with puzzlement.

  I looked carefully round to be sure no one was watching, then untwisted the knob at the end of the hilt. From the hollow interior, I drew forth a long strip of silk, with diamonds sown along its length.

  His eyes widened. “Stones? You collect stones?”

  I nodded. “I… I steal bits, mostly, then change them for bars.” My voice was no more than a whisper. “I change the bars for silver, exchange the silver for stones. These small ones are the best, easy to hide, easy to exchange back to coins if need be. I have more, sewn into the lining of my waistcoat.”

  “You’re terrified of being poor.” Spoken flatly, a statement not a question.

  Another nod. It was hard to speak. All my tawdry secrets dragged out into the open. “I brought this kooria with me from Shannamar. We all had one, filled with stones like this. An old tradition, from the days when the Holder’s family might need to leave in haste through the escape tunnels. Such a simple thing, a plain meat knife, who would guess what was inside it? Not a fortune, it’s not big enough for that, but it was supposed to be enough to live on for a while.”

  “Supposed to be?” He must have heard the bitterness in my voice.

  “A year. That was what we were always told. In a crisis, you could live for a year on the contents of the kooria. But they lied. Seven months, that was all it took to exhaust my funds, and I wasn’t extravagant. Soup and stale bread is not extravagant. If I hadn’t managed to find work quickly, I… I don’t know what…” My voice wobbled alarmingly.

  “But that was twenty years ago!” His tone was icy. “Why do you take money now?”

  Dragon’s balls, the man knew how to pull me back from self-pity. I could have spat in his eye. “What do you think will happen to me in a few years?” I hissed. “What happens to a recorder whose eyes fail, or whose fingers begin to curl with age? I have no family to take me in, so all I’ll have to live on is what I can save for myself. I will not go to the charity house!”

  “But you have a family.” He was so calm, so reasonable. “If you sent word—”

  “I shall never go back there, never! If they want me back they can come and get me.” I tried to push the stones back into their secret hiding place, but my fingers were shaking too much. Mal took the knife from my hand, and with surprising dexterity for such large hands quickly had everything hidden away again.

  “This is just pride, Fen,” he said, with that superior grin of his. “You know it is. You chose your life, don’t blame others for your own mistakes.”

  “Mistakes!” Anger boiled through me. I so badly wanted to hit him, to wipe the smirk off his stupid face. I wanted to hurt him. “Don’t you dare judge me! Look at you, tossing silver around like cornflower petals, it’s so easy for you, yet you have the presumption to criticise me!”

  His eyes narrowed, and he leaned across the table to within a handspan of my face.

  “Oh yes, because you’re so grand, aren’t you? Look at you, the great lady of Shannamar, and I’m just a peasant. You’re quite happy to wear my clothes and eat my venison and drink my wine, you’re quite happy to jump on me when it suits you, but I’m not allowed to touch you, and the moon will fall before I can dare to comment on your life. Well, fuck you, Fen. You’re a stuck-up bitch, you know that? Why did you marry me anyway, when you despise me so much?”

  I could hardly breathe, I was so angry. “Because if I hadn’t, you’d have brought some stupid bit of a girl into the house wh
o’d have drawn you into all kinds of complications and got herself pregnant like those two idiot needle-women. At least with me you have a simple business arrangement, with no entanglements.”

  “Maybe an entanglement would have been more fun. You’re a cold-hearted woman, Fen, and that’s the truth.”

  We finished our meal and walked home in frigid silence. Even the sunshine couldn’t lift my spirits now. At least he hadn’t asked me how I got into the locked coin box. I still had one secret left.

  17: A Visitor

  All the way home, I seethed with anger. How dared he condemn me for what I’d done to protect myself? It was wrong, of course, but no one had been hurt by it, my employers had never before missed the small amounts I’d taken, and I needed it more than they did. At the lowest times in my exile, when I’d been close to despair, my little stash of savings had been my greatest comfort, my assurance of survival in modest comfort even in old age. Mal had no right to criticise, when he was just as much outside the law, with his magic belt that only mages were supposed to use.

  When we arrived, the yard was a mass of Defenders and retainers and house servants rushing about with refreshments for men and horses. The Holder had called and was waiting for me.

  Mal stomped straight through the crowded entrance hall, wide-eyed servants jumping out of his way, and took the stairs two at a time. I was left to face Ish alone. I smoothed my skirt and checked in the hall mirror that my cap wasn’t askew. I opened the door of the study and went in.

  Relief washed over me. Losh was there, and Kael lurked in the background, chewing a fingernail. Nothing terrible could happen while they were in the room, although I wished I was wearing the jade pendant. I felt much safer with its warmth against my skin, that reassuring buzz of magic.

  Ish was sitting on a chair beside the desk, but he jumped up as I came in and rushed across to me.

  “Thank the Goddess, you are well again! I was so worried, Fen, you have no idea. But Mage Losh has been telling me how he healed you.”