“My mess? Have you forgotten how this happened in the first place? If you hadn’t tried to play stupid games and locked me up, I wouldn’t have had to spell myself out of there.”
“You didn’t have to use magic! No one was hurting you, I’d have let you out eventually. But no, you were too impatient. Everything could be ruined, you do realise that, don’t you? You promised you’d keep me out of it, you promised.”
“And so I did, at the hearing, but afterwards I had to tell the Drashon everything...”
“No, you didn’t! You could have kept your fucking mouth shut and stayed out of sight.”
“I could hardly spend the rest of my life skulking in the Imperial City, Drei, not with a baby. I had to come out eventually, and this way is better for both of us, in the long run.”
“Better for you, maybe. You’re so selfish, Kyra. Gods, I wish you’d stayed there.”
A small silence. “So you won’t want me to renew my drusse contract?”
That shut him up. He wanted my baby, and the only way to get her was through a formal drusse contract.
Cal wasn’t very happy about handing the baby over to Drei. “You should think about this more carefully, Kyra,” he’d said as we lay wakefully in bed for our last night in the city. “Once you sign the contract, there’s no going back. You lose all claim to it. Her, I mean.”
“But what would I do otherwise? I don’t quite know what kind of training the mages will devise, or what I’ll be allowed to do afterwards, but at the very least, I’ll be a proper contract scribe again, so I can get a decent job. A baby doesn’t fit into that sort of life.”
I thought with a pang of Elissana, raising her child and working at the same time – if only I had an arrangement like that. But I didn’t. Everything was too uncertain for me to think about raising my own baby.
“But what if it’s mine? If she’s mine?”
“What if she is? She’ll still be Drei’s in law, nothing can change that. Besides, how will he know? I don’t know!”
“He might suspect, if she’s very fair skinned. He could be angry with you. Some men are very strange about that sort of thing.”
“He’s angry with me anyway. Look, we’ve done nothing wrong, broken no contract. It’s Drei’s fault we’re even in this situation, isn’t it? He was the one who switched my herbs.”
“He might not see it that way.”
I wasn’t to be dissuaded, and two suns after I returned, I became Drei’s drusse again, although this time with a pregnancy-only clause. Once the midwives had officially confirmed the baby’s existence I would be able to move out of the apartment, if I wished.
~~~~~
The mages’ examinations were less traumatic than I’d expected. I lay on a comfortable long chair while a succession of mages came and held my hand or placed palms on my forehead, and then uttered exclamations of surprise. I demonstrated several of my little tricks, as the Drashon called them, and one by one they tried to replicate them. They quickly discovered they couldn’t make fire, or grow plants, or change pewter goblets to glass. One time I created the goblets out of nothing, and when they asked, I also managed to levitate small objects, but it drained me of much of my energy.
They were fascinated by my spellpages, both the sleep spell and the more complicated affairs which had brought the Drashon and Krayfon to the Imperial Library.
“These variances here,” Krayfon said, “this is fourth year work, well beyond a contract scribe.”
“I studied at that level for two moons,” I said. “I had plenty of time to learn all the variances for that year. And the fifth year is mostly just combinations.”
“Which you seem to have a good grasp of already.” His eyes twinkled at me.
“It’s surprising what interesting books you can find in the booksellers’ back rooms,” I murmured.
For detecting lies, they set up a properly regulated test. I sat with four mages, thought to be the best, at a table with paper and pens. One by one, a number of guards were brought in, people none of us would know, and made a series of statements and we all had to write down whether they were telling the truth or not. I got them all right, but the mages got many wrong. They were just guessing, really. They also couldn’t distinguish a lie buried in a number of truths, which I could do perfectly well.
Fortunately, this phase only lasted a moon or so, while the mages assessed me and decided on a training program. I assume they ran much the same tests on Drei, but I didn’t cross paths with him at all at the mages’ house and he never told me what he was doing. At the end of it, I was called before the Mages’ Forum, to hear their verdict. I was reasonably confident by this time that I was safe from the worst threat. Although many of the mages disapproved of me quite thoroughly, enough were intrigued with the possibilities to guarantee my survival. Besides, if they executed me, they would have to execute Drei too, and it was clear from various overheard comments that this was not an option, the Drashon would not allow it. The only question in my mind was what exactly they would allow me to do. Would I be able to go back to the scribery to try to become a law scribe, or would they keep me at Kingswell performing tricks for visiting dignitaries, like a trained dog?
The Forum took place in the mages’ house, on the topmost floor, a modestly proportioned room with only one narrow window. All the Keep rooms were square, but the mages liked everything round like the scriberies, so all their formal rooms had the corners filled in to make an octagonal shape, each side fitted with plain wooden panelling. Krayfon presided and so took the throne-like chair at the centre of the room, with his two deputies on either side of him. I sat alone opposite them. The remaining mages sat around us in a big circle, looking like so many shop-wives in their colourful gowns, a different colour for each town, for some had come from Callamorn or Yannitore or even further afield to take a look at me and hear the outcome of my examination. Cal was the only one in brown for Ardamurkan, however.
I’d expected a lot of formality and ritual, but I was quite wrong about that. There was a constant burble of comment from the audience, and many of them smiled encouragingly at me, or patted me on hand or shoulder as they took their places. There were a few who glowered threateningly, though, sitting with arms folded and chins jutting in an intimidating manner.
When all were settled, Krayfon smiled at me. “Well, Kyra, your examination was quite satisfactory. We have decided that you are not after all a threat to the stability of the realm.” There was a ripple of laughter around the room, so presumably that was his idea of a joke. “The archivists have looked up all the histories, and we have agreed that it would be most appropriate for you to be designated as a Fire Mage. What do you think about that, hmm?”
I couldn’t answer him. I don’t believe I could have strung together a coherent sentence at that point. A Fire Mage? Me? What did that even mean?
“I see you are surprised,” he said. Surprised – a mild word for what I was feeling. Utterly astonished, maybe. “You understand, I suppose, that we cannot use any of the usual titles, since you do not meet the requirements laid down by the regulations...” I’m not noble-born, he meant, of course. “But we all think that Fire Mage is very appropriate, given your particular talents.”
“You’re going to make me a mage?” I breathed. It was a stupid thing to say, but I couldn’t get my head round it. A moon ago they were ready to execute me, now they were making me a mage.
“Yes. You have no objection to the mark, I take it?” He touched one finger to his forehead. The tattoo! I would be a marked mage. It was unbelievable. “Something red, perhaps – flames or some such. And the robes, edged in red, you see.”
“Um – no objection,” I mumbled. Was I dreaming? Maybe I would wake up back in the city, still on the run.
“There is still much to learn about your particular abilities, so we wish you to have a mentor, someone to help you learn, guide you, you know. We thought Lord Mage Cal of Ardamurkan might be acceptable to you?”
A bubble of pleasure at that prospect. “Oh yes. But – I’m to be a mage, even though I’m not a law scribe?”
“Indeed. Is that a problem?”
“No. Oh no. But – may I still learn? About the law, I mean? Perhaps qualify as a law scribe eventually?”
There was a murmur of approval amongst the mages.
“Oh, certainly. That would be most advantageous. Excellent idea. We have no scribery here, of course, no formal lessons you could join, but at that level it is not necessary. Your mentor will help you plan your studies. You may expect, also, that the Drashon will require your services from time to time.”
No escaping the performing dog, then. “Of course. I understand.”
Then, abruptly, a more sinister tone. “You must remember, Kyra, that all of this is experimental. Any unfortunate occurrences will lead to an immediate review of the situation. Is that clear?”
I nodded, all my confidence blown to the winds. But within three heartbeats my spirits rose again. I was going to be a mage.
~~~~~
I was dizzy with joy. At last I was getting everything I’d ever wanted. Well, to be perfectly truthful, I’d never exactly dreamed of being a mage, but I would finally be a law scribe and be allowed to practise magic to its fullest extent. I was ecstatic.
A few suns later I was given a neat little tattoo on my forehead, a tiny red flame, which was surprisingly painful for the few heartbeats before my healing stepped in, and an array of very fetching robes for all occasions. Drei’s tattoo was rather more ostentatious, incorporating some family symbol as well as the flame, but also in red. I have to say that we looked very stylish together.
There was lengthy and heated discussion about names. Usually mages went through a ceremony to renounce their noble status and entitlements and adopt a new name for themselves, but I had nothing to renounce and Drei argued vehemently that he had never chosen to be a mage and under no circumstances was he surrendering his rank. Well, you could see his point. After securing such a spectacular marriage partner, he was hardly likely to give up his new status without a fight. Eventually, after the Drashon himself intervened, the mages grumblingly agreed that it was all very irregular but since we weren’t proper mages, an exception could be made. So Drei added Lord Mage Axandrei to his many other titles, and I became Lady Mage Kyra, and now the title was true and not a mere courtesy, or because I was a drusse.
I was thrilled that Cal was to guide me through the learning process. It seemed appropriate somehow after all we had gone through together, and I thought it was very complimentary that the mages trusted him with my development. He shrugged off that idea.
“They don’t know what to do with me now. They still think I have just my broken vessel to work with, so this is a sop to my self-esteem, to give me some other job to do. After all, to them I’m not a proper mage anymore.” He grinned wickedly, delighting in the secret power of the jade belt.
Having been left on my own for many moons, with only my own curiosity to guide me, now every hour had its allotted tasks. Cal devised a program of lessons for me, covering magic and the law, all the details I would have been taught at the scribery. The magic I found easy, but I struggled with the legal complexities. This was a long way beyond simple contracts. Cal found me all the right books, and – oh joy! – I now had unrestricted access to the mages’ own library. From time to time, one or other of the mages set me tests to measure my progress, and although they grunted and huffed and fussed about the irregularity of it, I meekly did whatever they asked and they were forced to admit that I met their standards.
It amused me to find that Cal was a conscientious mentor, devoting many hours each sun to my teaching.
“You weren’t so interested in my progress when you were my patron at Ardamurkan,” I said teasingly.
“I explained my reasons for that,” he snapped. “I wanted you to hate me – or at least dislike me, so you wouldn’t fall in love with me at the renewal. And it worked, didn’t it?”
“It did. It worked so well that you fell in love with me.”
His face softened. “That’s true. I wish... Well, never mind.”
“But I don’t think it’s real, is it?” I went on, oblivious. “What you feel, I mean? It’s just the effect of the renewal. You don’t really love me.”
I couldn’t read the expression on his face. He said nothing, but I felt I’d hurt him and I didn’t quite know how to set things right. Whatever he felt, though, he was always patient with me.
~~~~~
Almost as soon as I became a mage, the Drashon expected me to attend various trials and hearings and diplomatic meetings, to determine who spoke the truth. Sometimes Drei was asked to do it, but usually the Drashon preferred me. Since people expected a mage to wield a vessel and I had none, I was given a token to hold, a finely carved piece of ebony, which I rested in my lap. If I detected a lie, I would raise the token. If I detected a partial lie, I would raise my hand instead, and then the Drashon would interrupt the proceedings.
“Lady Mage?” He was always very respectful towards me, for all the world as if I were noble-born. I liked him for that.
I would answer him with appropriate gravity. “The Master Merchant speaks truly about the date and place of the agreement, Highness, but the amount is a lie.”
This talent of mine caused some consternation amongst those presenting petitions to the Drashon. There was a flurry of cases settled before they were heard, or withdrawn altogether, and after that I detected few lies.
In between my studies and attendance on the Drashon, there were also many formal events requiring my presence. At least, it was not so much me but Yannassia whose presence was required, and that meant Drei and therefore me. Drei was now officially betrothed to Yannassia, subject to the nobles’ approval, and had also contracted a second drusse, one of Yannassia’s attendants, who giggled and blushed whenever Drei spoke to her. The four of us would dress in our finest outfits, make an impressive entrance, Yannassia on Drei’s arm and the two drusse in formation behind with the guards. We would drift about the room talking to this or that favoured noble or ambassador, or else sit in an alcove as supplicants came by in ones and twos to press for favours, and then leave as soon as we decently could.
Drei enjoyed these affairs, and so, I think, did the second drusse, but Yannassia was more of my mind: that they were a necessary evil. Personally, I found them far less trying now, since all the attention was on the two nobles, and I rarely had to speak at all. I could wear one of my lovely azai and some tasteful jewelry, and then stand unregarded enjoying the spectacle or lost in my own thoughts or sampling the food, which was always wonderful, as every host tried to outshine all the others and produce ever more exotic delights.
Sometimes I saw Cal at these events, and if I could slip away we would grab a few quiet moments together. Unless it was formal enough to require robes, he always looked rather scruffy, as if he’d just thrown on whatever came to hand randomly and had forgotten to comb his hair. I felt overdressed beside him. We had agreed to be very cautious in public, and not give rise to any comment that might reflect badly on Drei. I’d had my differences with Drei, and the Moon Gods know he’d treated me abominably, but the baby growing in my belly was now his, and I didn’t want to do anything that might upset his marriage plans. So Cal and I were very demure, both in public and in private.
To be honest, I wasn’t at all sure what I felt for Cal. I’d slept with him more out of pity and my own loneliness, got used to his companionship and then his abrupt disappearance had been a terrible shock. I’d missed him far more than I would have guessed, and I was thrilled to have him back.
But now that everything was back on the level again, I found my need for him receding. I enjoyed learning from him, for he was highly intelligent and much better educated than I was, but he was still subject to violent mood swings and sometimes he just wanted to be left alone. Then he would leave me books to read and exercises to do, and would di
sappear for two or three suns to do who knew what. I suspected he went to the city. I found him difficult to understand. I liked him very much as a friend and respected him as a mage, but no more than that.
As the spring unfurled into summer, there was just one difficult moment, when the Council of Nobles requested an interview with me. Many of the nobility had been present at my hearing, had heard the disjointed account of my captivity, and seen me apparently bound and taken away under guard. Since then, rumours had flown about my escape, my midnight chat to the Drashon and the subsequent change in my status, and undoubtedly the whispers added their own lurid embellishments. It wasn’t surprising that the nobles wanted to know what the truth was, as was their right. While the Drashon ostensibly wielded sole power in the realm, and Council couldn’t directly countermand his orders, they could question, delay and obstruct, and they had the ultimate power of approving the Drashon and his heirs.
The full Council of Nobles met only once a year, in summer, to discuss and approve major law changes and treaties, but there was a resident Council of ten members, two for each Kell-Durshalon. There were smaller versions of this arrangement to manage each Kell-Durshalon, and below that each Kell, but the Kingswell Council oversaw the whole realm. When I was summoned, Drei was a wobbling mass of nerves, naturally.
The Fire Mages Page 31
