Of course it wasn’t enough. Gevan wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the day and far into the night investigating this amazing new phenomenon, observing, measuring, testing, trying to come to some sort of preliminary understanding of how it worked. But with a great effort he recalled his duty. As the Matriarch’s ambassador, he wasn’t free to indulge his personal desires. “I suppose you’re right.” He held up a hand as Elkan turned back to his pack. “Wait. I do have one more question. I’ve seen that you can open windows, and move objects without touch, just as described in the ancient writings. Do you retain the third power also? That of healing?”
Gevan held his breath. Surely they must. There was no reason they would have two of the three powers, and not the other. Yet if for some inexplicable reason they didn’t, his mission here would be in vain. He’d have to return to the Matriarch with the devastating news, and lose the opportunity to learn more about the wizards and their fascinating powers.
“Of course.” Elkan’s brow creased with concern. “Do you or any of your companions have need of our services?”
“Oh, no. We’re all fine.” Much as Gevan would have liked to take Elkan up on his offer so he could see their healing in action, he couldn’t remember any of the ship’s complement complaining of so much as a scrape or a sniffle. “But I’m glad to hear you do. That has immense bearing on my mission here. Though you’ll understand I can’t speak of it yet.”
“Of course. Whatever your need, I’m sure Master Dabiel will do her best to accommodate you.” He turned back to continue unpacking.
Just as Elkan bent to extract another garment from the trunk, there was a rap at the door, and a girl poked her head in. “Master Elkan? Master Dabiel said, if our guests are settled, she’d like to speak with you, please.”
Elkan straightened, dropped the pair of breeches with a sigh, and ran a hand through his long hair. “Josiah, could you finish here and show Master Gevan to the bath?” He eyed the boy with a frown, started to say something else, then closed his mouth.
“Yes, master.” Josiah hurried over to take the breeches and folded them without looking up.
Elkan nodded to Gevan. “Feel free to send Josiah for me if there’s anything else you need. I’ll come back to accompany you to the dining hall.”
“Until then.” Gevan walked with Elkan to the door and shut it behind the cat, careful not to catch the tip of its tail.
To tell the truth, Gevan was relieved to see the wizard go. He had so much to think about; he’d be glad of a little privacy to gather his thoughts and prepare for the upcoming audience. He must use exactly the right words when he presented his request. Now that he knew the truth about the wizard’s powers, he must refine the arguments he’d worked on during the long voyage. It wouldn’t be easy to convince the Guildmaster to send a wizard to Ramunna. To succeed, he’d have to exercise all his powers of persuasion.
If he wanted to succeed. He’d have to think about that, as well.
Maybe he could get rid of the boy, too. He waved him away from the nearly empty trunk. “Here, just let me get a change of clothes. I’ll take care of the rest later.”
“Yes, sir.” Josiah seemed willing enough to be relieved of the work. For a few minutes he hung back, watching Gevan in silence, but stifled curiosity was plain to read on his face. Gevan smiled to himself and estimated how long the boy would be able to keep silent. He made it a full minute longer than Gevan would have been able to at his age.
“Excuse me sir, but what’s it like where you come from?” He took a few steps toward Gevan.
Gevan gestured for him to hold out an arm, and Josiah complied. Across it Gevan draped the richest of the jerkins the Matriarch had given him. “Not that different from here. My home city, Ramunna, is bigger than this one. The buildings are mostly brick, not stone. And it usually doesn’t get quite this cold. Is this weather typical?”
“I guess. We’ll probably have snow a few times before spring.” The boy reached for the donkey beside him. Gevan stiffened, but the boy only scratched the base of the creature’s long, alertly pointed ears. “Ramunna—is that the same as Ramun?”
“Yes, it was called Ramun in the time of the ancients.”
Josiah nodded. “You said that travelers from Tevenar had come there. Do you know—were they led by a man named Ozor?”
Gevan paused as he sorted through his footwear. There was more than simple curiosity in the boy’s tone. It was always possible that he was trying to extract information to report to his elders. They might have thought Gevan would be more likely to let crucial details slip to an apparently harmless youth. He phrased his response carefully. “Why do you ask?”
Josiah shifted from foot to foot. “It’s my fault Ozor got away. He’s a murderer and a thief, you know. I was supposed to stop his ship, but I didn’t want…” He shrugged. “Ozor doesn’t like wizards. Whatever he told you about us, he probably lied.”
Gevan did his best to conceal his reaction, but he was sure the boy’s sharp eyes picked up the stutter in his movement as he reached for a pair of jeweled silk court slippers. Ozor had warned them that the wizards considered his people fugitives. Gevan couldn’t imagine what circumstances might have led to this boy being entrusted with their captivity. But he couldn’t ask without giving away the source of his knowledge. He thought of a dozen different responses, but eventually discarded them all. “I see.”
Josiah took a step nearer him. “Was Nirel with them? Is she all right? What about Gan? They’re my friends.” When Gevan didn’t respond, Josiah rushed on. “I worry about them all the time. What if something happened to them, out there where no wizards could help them? Is it awful, where you come from, with no wizards to heal you? It must be like it was in Elathir last summer, when we were all gone, except all the time. Do people just die when they get sick or hurt? How can you stand it, watching them, knowing there’s nothing you can do?” His hand reached out, then dropped impotently to his side.
A sudden vision of his wife’s face swam before Gevan’s eyes, grey with the pallor that had drained her strength before she died, too weak to do more than reach with much the same helpless gesture toward the baby in his arms. Could this boy and his barnyard pet have done more to help Nanirra than all the physicians of Ramunna? Was his innocent distress a show designed to win Gevan’s sympathy and draw out his secrets? Or was it an honest reaction from a child who had grown up in a world where people didn’t just die, where helplessness was a rare exception, not the constant dull reality of life?
His voice was gruff. “I’m sure your friends are fine.” He must warn Kevessa not to speak of Nirel. Although what harm could it do if the wizards were to discover that Ozor and his company were the source of Gevan’s information? They already suspected. And whatever animosity they might harbor toward the outlaws, Ozor and his people were safe under the Matriarch’s protection. Gevan gathered the last few items he would need. “Would you show me to the bath, now, please?”
Josiah studied him for a moment more before turning toward the door. “Sure. Come on.”
The bath was a delightful surprise. Although not quite as elaborate as the water rooms of the ancient Marvannan wizards he’d read about, it was larger and better appointed than even the facilities in the Matriarch’s palace. There was ample water, both hot and cold, and a large pool for rinsing. He spent longer than he should have, enjoying the luxury. By the time Elkan arrived to escort him to the dining hall, he felt immensely refreshed.
Kevessa was already there, along with the rest of the Ramunnan party. They were seated at a round table with Master Dabiel and several other wizards. Elkan and Gevan took the two vacant seats. Gevan was shocked to see the wizards’ animals milling about the room, clustered around bowls and troughs or perched on shoulders or laps. It looked more like feeding time at a menagerie than a formal dinner. But he concealed his reaction. An ambassador must adapt to the customs of his hosts, no matter how strange.
The food was good, hea
rty and plentiful, simple homey fare. The roast was cooked to a perfect moist pinkness, the vegetables delightful with unfamiliar herbs and spices, the brown bread warm and soft. He was well into the meal before he noticed that the wizards’ plates held portions half the size of those provided to the Ramunnans, or the way so many of them devoured their meal with single-minded intensity, as if it might be a long time before they saw another its equal.
After they finished eating, Master Dabiel stood up and formally introduced Gevan and the other Ramunnans to the rest of the Wizards’ Guild. Gevan made a few brief pleasant remarks. This wasn’t the time or place to present his case. That would have to wait until the decision-makers of this land could be assembled. From what Ozor had said, Master Dabiel didn’t have the power to grant or deny his request on her own, but must gain the support of others.
A series of singers, instrumentalists, and dancers performed entertainments. Gevan enjoyed them, but inwardly chafed to be wasting time on such trivialities. So after an hour, when Master Dabiel rose from her seat, bent to murmur in Elkan’s ear, and came to his side, he was eager to hear whatever she might say.
“Master Gevan, I thought we might retire to my office for a private discussion. I’ve called for a meeting of the Council of Guildmasters in the morning. Any official business must wait until then, but there’s no reason you and I can’t make each other acquainted with the issues likely to come up. I’ve asked Master Elkan to join us, if you don’t mind.”
“That will be fine.” Gevan rose. He glanced at Kevessa. She seemed thoroughly captivated by the current performer, a marvelously deft juggler. He hated to leave her alone, but surely no harm would come to her in a public place. He’d picked the guards he’d brought from the ship carefully. He couldn’t be absolutely sure they weren’t agents of the Purifiers, but he’d spent many hours on the voyage speaking with all the ship’s complement, and these two seemed the least likely of the Matriarch’s men to harbor Purifier sympathies.
And the Matriarch herself had assigned his aide. Gevan glanced at Tharan. He sat quietly, as was his habit, blending unobtrusively into the background until it was easy to forget he was there. But Gevan had taken his measure during the voyage and discovered that Tharan missed little of what his dark eyes took in. He strongly suspected Tharan was watching him and would report all his actions back to Verinna. But he’d purposefully asked for Tharan’s assistance with his experiments during the voyage. The man had never displayed any offense, even when Gevan made bold assertions about the Mother that directly contradicted Purifier doctrine. He’d even asked intelligent questions about Gevan’s work and made a few suggestions that led to fruitful new areas of inquiry. Gevan still didn’t fully trust him, but he had no real reason to distrust him, either.
He put a hand on Kevessa’s shoulder. “Will you be all right here by yourself, if I step out?”
“Of course, Father.” Kevessa spared him only a brief glance before focusing again on the performer. “Master Hadara is over there if I need anything. She’s been wonderfully kind and welcoming. And her apprentice Kalti is just my age. That’s her with the adorable little lamb. They’ve offered to show me around the city tomorrow, if you approve.”
“That should be fine. I expect I’ll be busy with meetings all day.” He still hesitated, but told himself firmly there was nothing to worry about. “You know the way to your room, if I’m not back before this is over?”
“Yes, Father,” she said, with amused impatience. “Go on. Good-night.”
“Good-night,” he echoed. Formless anxiety still swirled in his gut, but most likely it was only overprotectiveness. He patted her shoulder one last time and went to join Elkan and Master Dabiel.
They led him through the dining hall and across the echoing space of the main Hall, walking slowly so that Dabiel’s elderly hog could keep up with his ponderous shuffle. Elkan’s cat padded beside them. Gevan didn’t know why the animals were included in this private audience, but the wizards seemed reluctant to part from their companions. Gevan supposed that if he were to possess an animal which gave him the power to work magic, he’d take pains to keep it close at all times, too.
Down a short corridor off the Hall, Dabiel escorted them into an office. She bustled around for a few moments, lighting lamps on the walls that filled the room with soft light. There was a desk, but she ignored it, going instead to sit on a low, comfortable couch, gesturing for Gevan to take a seat on the matching one opposite. Elkan settled beside him, the cat sprawling at the wizard’s feet. Gevan edged away, moving his feet to the side so the cat’s hot breath no longer tickled them. The hog eased himself stiffly to the floor next to Dabiel’s couch. Above them, hanging from the ceiling between the two couches, an abstract work of art consisting of suspended wires, rods, and ornaments gently turned.
Dabiel smiled at him. “Have you found your accommodations to your liking, Master Gevan? Is there anything else we can do to make you comfortable during your stay here?”
“Everything has been most agreeable, thank you. I appreciate your warm welcome.”
“If any need arises, don’t hesitate to ask, and we’ll do our best to meet it.” She leaned forward and sighed, her face taking on a grave expression. “Gevan, your coming here has created a huge dilemma for me. As head of the Council of Guildmasters I’m responsible for the welfare of Tevenar, and as Guildmaster of the Wizards’ Guild I’m in charge of our adherence to the Mother’s Law. Those two things don’t usually come into conflict. But now they have.”
Beside him, Elkan nodded, his eyes shadowed. Gevan looked back and forth between the two wizards. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. I’m not familiar with the Law you speak of.”
It was Elkan who answered. “When people first came to Tevenar nearly a thousand years ago, the Mother gave us the Law, which governs all that wizards do. I don’t know how much your people remember of history, but our oldest writings tell us that once there were wizards who wielded the Mother’s power directly, without the intervention of familiars. But they misused that power, and turned it to evil, so the Mother took it away from them.”
Gevan nodded slowly. “So the Keepers tell us.” He shifted in his seat. Elkan spoke with an intensity that reminded him uncomfortably of the most fanatic of the Purifiers. His words could almost have been spoken by one of them.
“But when the Mother saw how her people suffered without her power, she granted it to us once again, this time through her familiars, so that it could never again be misused. When the first bonded wizards suffered persecution, she led them here, to Tevenar, so they’d be safe from their enemies. And in her Law she forbade us to leave, so those enemies wouldn’t find us.” Elkan quirked one eyebrow and gave Gevan a rueful grin.
Dabiel took up the tale. “But despite our best efforts, a few people left Tevenar last spring, and what the Mother sought to prevent has happened. You’ve come to us from across the sea, and demanded we break the Mother’s Law, and threatened us if we don’t comply.”
Gevan swallowed. Put like that, his actions did seem hostile. “I wasn’t aware that I’d be asking you to violate your religious beliefs.”
“I know. And you couldn’t be aware, either, how tempting your offer would be to us.” Dabiel leaned forward and studied him. “If you haven’t noticed already, we can’t hope to conceal it from you much longer. Tevenar is in desperate straits. We’ve suffered a series of disasters that have left us with an inadequate supply of food for the winter. We’re in the early stages of a famine that might easily kill thousands in the coming months. You said your Matriarch has empowered you to negotiate on her behalf. Would you be able to offer us shipments of food if we agreed to your terms?”
Gevan slowly nodded. “Food could certainly be arranged, if that’s what you desire. Grain easily, dried meat and fish, preserved fruits, anything that can survive the voyage. The harvests in Ramunna were ample this year, and our stores are full.” His heart raced. Maybe he’d be able to fulfill his mission, aft
er all.
Dabiel sat back, briefly closing her eyes. When she opened them again, they were hard with determination. “How soon could it be here?”
Gevan tilted his head. “There are stores of food aboard my ship. We didn’t anticipate that this would be your need, but we’re well-provisioned and we made good time on the voyage, so we have some extra we could give you now. Beyond that, the return crossing should take around two months, and ships full of food could be at your docks two months after that. So, early spring.”
Dabiel and Elkan exchanged glances. “Tight, but soon enough,” Dabiel said. She drew a deep breath. “Why does your Matriarch require the services of a wizard? No matter how great our need, if what she wants is outside the Mother’s will, it will be impossible for us to help her. We can’t kill her enemies, or spy on them, or help her oppress a rebellious populace, or anything else a ruler is likely to need.”
“Nothing like that,” Gevan hastened to assure her. “She needs your healing power. After many years of trying, she’s been unable to conceive and bear a daughter to be her heir. Her hope is that a wizard can help her do so.”
Elkan’s eyes sharpened with interest. “That should be permissible, if her condition is one we can remedy. Tell me, how old is she? Do you know anything of her history? Has she ever been pregnant?”
Gevan gave him a brief overview of Verinna’s long and tragic experience with childbearing. Elkan nodded with every new detail, his eyes occasionally narrowing or taking on a calculating look. When Gevan finished, Elkan glanced at Dabiel. “Rejection, do you think?”
“It certainly sounds like it could be. One healthy child, followed by a series of losses.”
Elkan turned back to Gevan. “If that’s her difficulty, the Mother’s power can address it. But even so, there are no guarantees. If she hasn’t yet passed the age of fertility, pregnancy should be possible, but older women have more difficulties than younger ones. Some the Mother’s power can help, but some it can’t.”
The Law of Isolation Page 31
