The Thief's Gamble

Taken from:

An Account of the Founding of Hadrumal Ocarn, Third Flood-Master of Wellery's Hall

Once the domain of Hecksen mas laid waste, popular fear of the mage-horn increased. Appalling though we may find the folly and ambition of the mages Mercel and Frelt, the claims of the Lords of Peorle and Algeral that they had in fact been ensorcelled can be nothing but lies. Worse, the Elected of Col seized upon this pathetic excuse, purporting to discover their involvement had been forced by a conspiracy of wizards and priests planning to seize power. Rumours inflated this calumny, resulting in wholesale panic among the ignorant; even mere scribes found themselves subject to beatings and the few schools were ransacked. The official priesthood was dissolved and the library of the Temple burned. With Col one of the last remaining Temples to survive the chaos of the Dark Generations thus far, the loss of knowledge this represented is incalculable. It must remind us never to underestimate the dangers of the narrow minds of the mundane populace.

Trydek was then travelling in Caladhria as a tutor. Anti-scholastic bias was not so prevalent, but ignorance was still a pernicious blight. It was now considered enough that a noble retain a scribe, rather than learn to read or write for himself, and many libraries were left to rot and worm. To be mage-born was increasingly considered an oddity if not downright unlucky and many unfortunates became victims of their own untutored powers. A few notable disasters such as the burning of Lady Shress and her baby in childbirth became widely known in a variety of garbled

legends. The Duke of Triolle actually declared use of what he termed arcane arts punishable by ordeal and other Lescari nobles followed suit. Of course, all this achieved was to put intolerable strains on already untrained and terrified youths and maidens with inevitable results. Soon any natural flood, fire or lightning strike would be attributed to a mage-born and a frantic search would commence, naturally enough unearthing some unfortunate with a trace of affinity. If lucky, they would simply be driven away; if not, increasingly, killed.

Trydek gathered a coterie of dispossessed mage-born around himself and attempted to settle in various places. As a young man, I heard him speak in his last years, telling most affectingly of the fear and ignorance he and his little band encountered. Various wizards who had contrived to nurture and develop their talents attempted to resist such trends in their localities. With hindsight, we must admit that actions such as the destruction of Genü Market, the blinding of Lord Arbel and particularly the Parnilesse Rising were ill-judged, if understandable. It was after this last that Trydek finally agreed to remove from the mainland altogether, at the suggestion of Vidella, later First Flood-Mistress of the Seaward Hall.

Gidesta, 19th of Aft-Autumn

Rain, rain and more rain. The closer we came to the circle of clouds, the heavier the rain became. That stationary storm soon looked as convincing as a priest's condolences; I noticed Ryshad and Aiten exchanging uncertain looks and slipping dubious glances in Shiv's direction. We struggled on and I mean struggled. The tangles of trees, brambles and ivy got more and more dense and with growing irritation we were frequently brought to a standstill while we cut ourselves and the animals free, or cast about for a path. The rune that tipped the hand came when we stopped to camp and no one could light a fire. I was rummaging in the mule's packs, hoping to find some halfway dry food. I was trying to cut some dry-cured meat with fingers numb with cold when the knife slipped and I gave myself an agonising scrape across the knuckles. I was just about to dissolve into angry tears when I realised Ryshad and Aiten were nearly coming to blows and got a grip on myself. 'Here, let me try. You're doing it all wrong.' 'You're welcome to it. That flint's next to useless.' 'Did you keep the tinder inside your shirt like I told you?' 'For all the good it did. It's as wet as the rest of me.' 'Well, why didn't you wrap it in some oilcloth?' 'Why is it down to me? Why don't you do something useful instead of criticising?'

'I slept with the bloody stuff in my breeches last night. It was dry when I gave it to you.'

I judged it time to intervene. 'Shiv, can you help us get this rotten fire started?' 'Sorry?' 'The fire, Shiv, we need something warm to eat and drink.'

'Are you sure?'

That gave us a spark of sorts; it certainly got Ryshad's temper flaring up.

'Of course she's bloody well sure. We're all soaking wet and freezing cold, at least we three are. Rain doesn't run off normal people like the water off a duck's arse, in case you hadn't noticed.'

I interrupted while he drew breath; he looked like a man heading for something Shiv might regret.

'Just light the fire, Shiv, please.'

Shiv came over to the half-built fire which was already wet enough to wring out and bit his lip as he spread his hands over it. There was a long, cold and tense pause.

'There seems to be a problem.' Shiv looked up at the three of us unhappily.

'Meaning?' Ryshad's tone was ominous.

'It's the elements. Fire seems almost completely closed off in this area.'

'How much is almost?' I was glad I wasn't having to answer Ryshad. We had another of those pauses.

'Enough to prevent anyone lighting a fire, magically or otherwise.'

I waited for the eruption from Ryshad or Aiten but none came.

'So what do we do now?' Ryshad relieved his feelings by kicking the pitiful collection of twigs and tinder halfway across the scrubby hole that passed for a clearing in this undergrowth.

Aiten thrust his hand under Shiv's nose. It was dead white and wrinkled like a wet rag.

'See this? My fingers look as if I've been in a bath for three days. I'm so cold I'm not even shivering much any more. If you don't do something, we'll all be down with exposure by morning, that's if we're not dead in our sleep. I've lived in these mountains, Shiv, I've seen it happen.'

'Maybe we should turn back?' Looks from Aiten and Ryshad told me they were thinking the same way but neither had wanted to be the first to suggest it.

'No, come on.' There was a pleading note in Shiv's voice which surprised me. 'We can't give in. Azazir's doing this to discourage us.'

'As far as I'm concerned, he's succeeding.' Ryshad had got his temper back under control but his face was grim.

'Well?' Aiten's harsh question hung in the air as we all avoided each other's eyes.

'I can't light a fire but I can get you all drier and try to keep the rain off,' Shiv offered.

Aiten looked up from trying to unknot his boot laces. 'Rysh? What do you reckon?'

Ryshad sighed. 'We need to do something to get us through the night. It's too late to set off back down to the valley anyway.'

Now we had something positive to do, we all moved fast. I pulled the driest of the blankets out of the bedrolls while Ryshad and Aiten rigged a canopy out of the largest piece of oilskin. We stripped off our sodden cloaks and tunics and sat in a circle, knee to knee, to share as much of our warmth as possible. It was awkward but we wrapped the blankets around our shoulders, overlapping them and pulling them tight.

'Now just relax and let me work without interrupting.' Shiv gathered faint tendrils of blue light in his hands and closed his eyes. Even I could see the magic was skewed around here; normally his magelight working with air was a clear azure, but now it was shaded like the turquoise the Aldabreshi prize so highly.

I hadn't planned on interrupting, but I soon realised why he'd cautioned us when the shimmering lines of power started creeping over and around us. The water was forced out of our clothes and hair and rose from our huddle in wisps of steam; it tickled horribly. I shut my eyes tight but that just made things worse so I opened them again. It was like the worst case of fleas or lice you've ever had, multiplied by ten. My skin was crawling like a drunk's with the screaming fits upon him and from the fixed revulsion on Ryshad's face, he felt much the same.

I was starting to think this was worse than being soaked when I realised I could feel my toes again. As they itched and burned I told myself this was an improvement but I took some convincing. Aiten shuffled and cursed under his breath but subsided under a stern look from Shiv. I bit my lip and concentrated on the coils of steam twisting out into the gathering dusk. Any passing animal could have mistaken us for a compost heap. Just as I saw the first of the two crescent moons slide up over the tops of the trees, Shiv heaved a sigh and let the magic go.

'That should be better.' I could hardly see him in the dark but I heard the uncertainty in his voice.

I felt my shirt; it was stiff under my roughened hands but pretty well dry and I realised my fingertips had lost their wrinkles.

'Thanks, Shiv.' Aiten rummaged in his belt-pouch. 'Anyone care for some Thassin?'

If I want stimulation, I generally stick to spirits but I decided this was a time for taking whatever was on offer. 'I'll try it, thanks.'

Aiten found my hand in the dark and pressed a small round nut into it. 'Break it up, then tuck the pulp in your cheek,' he advised.

'May I?' Shiv lit a small ball of magelight and held out his hand. 'I didn't know you were a chewer.'

'I'm not as a rule.' Aiten paused to crack the tough outer casing of the nut between his teeth. 'I carry some for emergencies and I think this qualifies. Rysh, do you want some?'

Ryshad sighed and I saw his face tighten in the eerie blue glow. 'I'd better, I suppose. How much do you have?'

'Enough to get you back down gently.' Aiten's face was sympathetic as he handed over a couple of the dark shells.

'I used to be a chewer,' Ryshad explained as he cracked the nuts with practised ease. 'Took me the best part of two seasons to shake the habit.'

I was impressed. 'That's quite an achievement.'

Ryshad grimaced. 'It's not something I fancy doing again.'

We sat and chewed like a huddle of milk cows and I soon found the warmth in my jaw spreading to my stomach and legs. The sour aggravation of days and days spent cold and wet dissolved into a petty annoyance and I began to see why people used this stuff. To my surprise, I began to feel hungry and felt around my feet for the meagre meal I'd managed to salvage.

'When we get back to civilisation, I'm going to buy the biggest piece of cow a butcher can sell me. I'll fry it with onions and butter and eat a day's bread with it,' I muttered with feeling.

'Don't,' Ryshad groaned.

We ate the bits of food, all oddly flavoured by the Thassin, and our spirits rose. We all knew it was artificial but after a while we really didn't care.

'So what's the worst meal anyone's ever eaten? Apart from this one, that is.' Aiten grinned at me, teeth stained and breath bitter from the nuts.

Shiv gave us a highly exaggerated account of student food in Hadrumal; at least I hope he was exaggerating. If he wasn't, Planir could have my report in writing; you won't catch me in a place where someone found a mouse in his stew.

We moved on from disastrous meals to disastrous actions and Aiten had us roaring with laughter with his tales of life as a Lescari mercenary. My personal favourite was the one about the sergeant who led his troop into an ambush one night. 'Come on, lads,' he shouted to get his men going. 'Lads?' All he got was the sound of running feet and the sight of the pennant-bearer's lantern bobbing away at high speed! Another case of death by stupidity.

Ryshad countered with the difficulties of persuading militia levies to use a shield without doing more damage to themselves than to the enemy, and I managed to drive all three of them to distraction by challenging them to guess the single most difficult defence against uninvited entry that I'd ever come across. In case you're wondering, it's not dogs, locks or watchmen, it's those cursed little bells on coils of wire that people hang inside doors and windows. I've won a lot of drinks with that challenge.

Dawn came more quickly than I had expected and we broke up our huddle, stretching cramped legs and preparing for the next stage of this ungodly journey. Shiv had done his best with our clothes and boots but putting on a damp, cold tunic and cloak was one of the nastiest things I had done in a long time. Needless to say the rain was still teeming down and I don't think I have ever seen an animal look quite so pissed off and reproachful as that mule.

Another day of hacking and slipping and cursing through the thickets brought us to a ridge, and when we crested it, we looked down on a totally different scene. It was a valley with a lake in its floor, but where most lakes are fed by one or two streams, this was the focus for hundreds. I know it sounds fanciful but these brooks weren't just following nature downhill, they were aiming for this lake. I'd bet if we'd tried we'd have found others flowing uphill to get here. Water streamed down the steep sides of the valley: few plants had been able to get a foothold here and it looked as if the grass and soil would soon be losing the battle. The lake was a dark murky green and a dense fog swirled above its lurking surface.

'Is this it?' Aiten asked unnecessarily.

Shiv nodded slowly, turning as he scanned the area intently. I followed his gaze but saw nothing. I felt very uneasy and wondered what it was that felt so wrong. The well-spring has always been a lucky rune for me; what was it trying to tell me? After a few moments, I grasped it.

'Can you hear anything? Is it just my ears or are there really no birds here?'

We all stood and listened but the only sounds were rushing water and below that a dull murmur from the far end of the lake.

'This way.' Shiv headed for the noise and we picked our way cautiously along the muddy shoreline. The back of my neck began to prickle and I knew without question that someone or something was watching us.

Russet snorted and paced skittishly as the lake lapped at his feet. I cursed him and had to use all my skills to get him moving again. I had my hands full since I was also leading the mule; the wretched creature had decided I was the only one of us that she'd co-operate with. I'm all for females sticking together, but I felt this was a bit much. I managed to get her moving in a sulky trot, but when I looked forward, the others were quite a way ahead. Tendrils of fog were creeping into the gap and I shivered suddenly.

'Wait up.' I used my heels on Russet and he skipped forward but the fog was growing denser by the second. Shiv and the others were indistinct shapes in a few breaths as clammy whiteness coiled round us.

'Wait for me!' I bellowed but the dead air smothered my voice like a pillow.

I looked down to check for the water's edge but Russet's hooves were already lost in the rising mist. He stopped and snorted nervously, ears pricking forward then laying flat back to his head in turn. I looked at the mule; all I could see now was her head but she was doing the same with her large furry ears, eyes rolling and showing white as something spooked her.

I sat and forced myself to breathe calmly and strained my own ears to try and detect whatever the animals were reacting to. Horrid whispering floated from the direction of the lake but I couldn't make it out. I shook in the chill breeze and kicked Russet hard but he wouldn't move.

Sudden chattering behind us startled the mule into a leap forward that sent her into Russet's rump. He whipped his head round, teeth bared, and snapped at her. She snapped, he reared and I slid gracelessly off his rear end.

'Stop, you bastard horse!' I grabbed helplessly for the trailing reins but the cursed creature vanished into the fog, which was now as dense as rotten milk. I scrambled to my feet and looked wildly round. At least I still had hold of the mule. If there was something out there hoping for a meal, it could have her first. Would there be bears around here? Wolves? Something worse?

'Come on.' I held her by the bridle and leaned into her shaggy shoulder as I took a few cautious steps. I felt water lap round my feet and swore. Back-tracking, I tried what I thought was another way but a few short paces had me paddling again.

As I turned the mule round I caught a glimpse of something in the fog, a dark indistinct shape about man high.

'Shiv? Ryshad? Is that you?' I walked forward slowly but all I could see was fog. There was a scrape on the stones behind me and I whirled round, pressing my back into the reassuring solidity of the mule. I screamed as something or someone tapped me on the shoulder but when I looked wildly round, there was nothing to be seen.

All those fears that you keep locked away in the back of your head started hammering on the doors of my mind. The terror of walking through the house in the dark as a child, the horrors that pursue you back to your bed and the safety of your blankets, the panic of being separated from your parents in a busy street. More adult dreads came crawling up to join them and add their weight; I felt the shock of that near-rape again, the whimpering nausea when I had faced a flogging for theft, the peril and uncertainty when I had been separated from Sorgrad in a riot in Relshaz. I began to shake as the crowding fears made thinking and even walking forward more and more difficult. The mule was shaking now, sweating like a beast facing a predator, head swaying from side to side as shadows in the fog chased around us and evil sounds whispered on every side. I heard echoes of my grandmother scorning my Forest blood, the slap of leather against flesh, the deranged laughter of the would-be rapist. I quailed before the mounting onslaught, sinking to my knees, but still clinging to the mule's reins as if I were drowning.

I don't know how long I crouched there, paralysed by nameless dread in the fog. Eventually a faint voice of reason began to cut through the clamouring terrors in my head. When the fear became too much to bear with my eyes closed, I realised I could see a difference in the fog over to one side. Where it had previously all been white, dead as a pauper's shroud, I could now see faint colour. An almost imperceptible shading of blue was lighting up the heavy wet air.

Shiv, it had to be. I got to my feet and forced my trembling legs towards the colour, dragging the reluctant mule behind me. As I moved, I managed to get a grip on my mind again and hurried the pace. I cannot describe my relief when I saw Shiv standing in a shimmering blue sphere of clear air. The boundaries of his spell were expanding and, as the brilliant blue light swept over me, I felt the fears wash away; it was almost a physical release.

'What's going on?' I hurried to his side and looked round, still apprehensive.

He shook his head and concentrated on his spell. A change in the light made me look up and I saw the fog melting above us. Soon we could see the lake shore and the surrounding valley walls. I drew in deep breaths of clean air until the trembling finally stopped.

'Azazir!' Shiv's roar startled the mule dreadfully but I managed to hold her. 'Your spells are a mighty defence against the untutored. I honour your skills but let us stop this trial! We have urgent business with you; we would not disturb you if it were not a matter of life and death!'

There was a crack like thunder on the plains and in an instant the fog vanished. I blinked away sudden tears as blue sky and sunlight hit my eyes and, for a breath, the valley was bathed in the clear light of a crisp autumn day. It was over so fast I almost doubted my senses; the clouds returned and the rain poured down on us once more, heavier than ever.

'Shiv!' Aiten and Ryshad stumbled towards us through the sheets of rain, feet sliding in the treacherous mud. They had lost their horses too, and each looked white and strained. Vomit stained Aiten's cloak; I didn't want to think what could have terrified him to that extreme. Ryshad's face was set and pale, his naked sword dull and grey as the clouds above us.

'It was a spell.' Shiv held out his arms and we stood in a circle, clasping each other's hands and drawing strength from each other, breath hammering in our chests as we cleared the echoes of the dread from our minds.

Ryshad broke the silence. 'What now, Shiv?'

'We go on.' His tone allowed for no argument and he led the way further towards the head of the lake. We followed, the three of us gathered close to the reassuring bulk of the mule. I realised the rest of us had drawn our swords without stopping to discuss the matter.

The murmur of rushing waters grew stronger and, now the mist had cleared, we saw a waterfall plunging over a cliff ahead of us. Vapour floated over the waters like steam, foam roiling under the onslaught of the cataract.

'Look there.' Aiten pointed over to the base of the cliff. What I had taken for a heap of rocks proved strangely regular on closer examination and, as we drew nearer, I saw crude windows and the dark shadow of a wooden door. It was definitely a dwelling of some sort.

'Come on.' Ryshad moved out ahead of Shiv and Aiten followed him.

'Careful, we need to be patient,' Shiv called after them.

I'm not quite sure what Aiten said but I think it was something along the lines of 'Patience, my arse.' In any case, he walked swiftly up to the door and kicked it in with practised violence. He didn't get the impressive splintering crash he'd wanted, more of a soggy creak; having to pull his foot free of the rotting timbers spoiled the effect further.

Shiv muttered something uncomplimentary under his breath and hurried after them. I took my time tethering the mule and followed once it was clear no maddened wizard was going to turn them all into frogs. Once inside, it was obvious that this had once been someone's home but its former occupant was long gone. Crude wooden furniture stood covered in fungus, whatever materials had softened the chairs had long since vanished to line mouse nests, leaving only a few chewed fragments. Ryshad and Aiten were opening the cupboards and a chest but found nothing beyond rank leavings sodden into unidentifiable pulp. Moisture streamed down the walls and the air smelled dank and unwholesome.

'If this was his home, he must be dead,' I said at last. 'Darni said he could have left guard spells behind him, didn't he? Maybe that's all we've found.'

Shiv stood in the middle of the fetid hovel and turned slowly around. 'No, that magic is alive and that means Azazir must be too. There must be some clue here.'

'There's something through here.' Ryshad was examining the far wall carefully and, when he ran his hand around the outline, we could just make out a door cut from the stone.

'Let me see.'

As Shiv and the others crowded round it, I moved over to the fireplace. It was raised up in the wall with a grill for cooking on and slabs set to either side for warming and simmering. It hadn't seen any activity for a long while, the ashes had been almost completely washed away. I leaned in to peer up the chimney but could see no light; it had to be blocked further up, a nest perhaps, built before the birds fled this unnatural area. I wondered, would a wizard be any more imaginative than the rest of us when it came to hiding valuables?

'There!'

I looked round to see Shiv illuminate the rock door with amber light. It swung open and the three of them looked into the blackness beyond.

'Come on.' Shiv raised a ball of magelight and they went in cautiously.

I reached up the flue and felt around, moving the rusted ironwork built in for smoking and hanging kettles. Nothing unusual there so I rolled up my sleeves and examined the grate. Far to the back, I felt a different sort of stone, smoother to the touch than the rough-hewn rock. I pressed all around it and, somewhat to my surprise, it yielded, pivoting stiffly on a central pin. There was a hollow behind it and I was working at full stretch now, face pressed up against the dirty bars of the hearth. My fingers recoiled from something cold and slimy but I shoved my imagination firmly to one side and forced myself to bring the sodden bundle out.

Once it had been fine, soft leather but that was a long time ago. I pulled the stinking folds apart to reveal a long white rod of some sort and a fine silver ring. I was still alone so I slipped the ring on a thong I keep round my neck for oddments and examined the rod more closely. It was patterned with six-sided shapes like a honeycomb and each had a small carving inside. There were tiny figures, monstrous faces, spider's webs, snow-flakes, all sorts of images. It was a long piece of bone, smoothed and polished with small gems set at one end. I realised this must be something to do with wizardry; they were amber, ruby, sapphire, emerald and diamond, the jewels of elemental magic.

'Nothing in there.' Ryshad's boots crunched on the rubbish underfoot as he led the way out of the back room.

'I've got something.' I turned and held out the rod to Shiv.

'His focus!' Shiv snatched it from me and peered at it closely.

'So?' Aiten tried to see the rod but Shiv moved it away from him.

'If his focus is still here, he must be somewhere close,' Shiv muttered, speaking more to himself than to the rest of us.

'What is that?' Ryshad asked curiously.

'Sorry? Oh, this is Azazir's focus. A wizard makes one to record his magical training, it's part of the discipline. It's a way of concentrating your mind on what you are doing.' Shiv gazed round the dismal cave-house and frowned.

'Come on.' He led us outside and I shivered as the rain struck us with renewed force.

'Where are you, you old madman?' Shiv scowled, peering through the torrents of water.

'Ait, this way.' Ryshad started to move further round the lake but before he had got more than a few paces things started to change with frightening speed.

The cold became intense and the rain changed to snow, then to hail, and a driving wind roared up from nowhere to hurl it stinging into our faces. I cried out as a hailstone the size of an egg thumped into my arm and then covered my head as more came hammering down. We darted for the shelter of the cave but before we reached it the assault stopped and the air became clear again. We stood and looked uncertainly at each other, rain dripping off our hair and noses. A large bruise was growing on Ryshad's cheek.

My skin began to crawl again, but this time it was the hairs on my exposed arms rising as the air began to crackle with energy. Grey clouds above us deepened to black and billowed menacingly downwards.

'Run!' Shiv's voice galvanised us to action and we reached the cave just before the first spear of lightning blew a shower of mud and water into the air.

'Azazir!' Shiv stood in front of us and raised his arms in protest. 'If you want to continue this, show yourself. If you wish to test me, I'll accept a direct challenge — or none. Come and try my magic, if you dare!'

Ryshad and I exchanged horrified looks. Getting involved with a trial of strength between two wizards seemed like a quick way to a booking with Poldrion.

There was a pause which seemed to last for half a day, but I suppose it was really only a few breaths before the tension drained out of the air and the clouds drew back to their usual task of dropping rain by the bucketload.

I looked at Shiv and saw his gaze fixed, fascinated, on the waterfall at the far end of the lake. An eerie delight lit his eyes and his lips curved in an uncanny smile as he slowly shook his head in wonder. He had never looked so far removed from us ordinary folk and it unnerved me more than I can say.

I licked my suddenly dry lips. 'What is it, Shiv? Is there a cave behind the waterfall? Is he there?'

'Oh no,' Shiv breathed. 'Can't you see? He is the waterfall!'

He walked swiftly along the lake shore, leaving the rest of us gaping stupidly as we tried to make sense of what he was saying. Shaking my head, I was the first to move to follow him but none of us got too close as we drew nearer to the cataract.

I stared into the streaming flow and narrowed my eyes; was there something in there, or was I imagining it? One patch of water in the midst of the torrent seemed somehow stationary, circulating endlessly in on itself rather than racing down to vanish into the lake.

'Azazir!' Shiv sent a flash of green power into the waterfall and whatever I thought I could see vanished. I was about to turn away when a figure drew itself up on to the surface of the lake and walked across the water towards us. Initially as clear as the crystal waterfall, the man-shape grew more distinct as it approached. By the time it reached the shore, I saw an old man, naked, no more than skin and bone. His hair and beard were colourless rather than simply white, slicked down with the water; his eyes were pale, piercing and to my mind completely insane.

'Who are you?' The ancient mage's voice echoed with the murmur of the waterfall and he stared at Shiv, unblinking as a fish.

'I am Shivvalan, initiate of the Seaward Hall, adept of water and air. I serve the Great Council and, on the authority of the Archmage, I am here to ask you questions.' Shiv's tone was calm and assured.

A faint frown rippled across Azazir's face. 'Who is the Archmage now?'

'Planir the Black,' Shiv replied steadily.

Azazir's sudden cackle made us all jump. 'Planir! I remember him! A miner's son from the pits of Gidesta, coaldust in everything he owned, down to the scars on his knees and knuckles. Planir the Black! My oath, it was the other apprentices gave him that title when they saw the state of his linens!'

He stepped off the water and I was relieved to see contact with the earth granted him more solidity and colour.

'So what does his eminence want of me?' He fixed Shiv with his fishy stare.

'Let's go somewhere more comfortable.' Shiv turned towards the cave but Azazir simply squatted down in the mud.

'I'm comfortable here.'

I saw his arms and chest were patterned with what I first thought might be scales but I realised they were more of the honeycomb pictures, some tattooed, but most simply scratched into his skin and left to scar over. I shivered, not just because of the cold and the rain.

'You travelled across the ocean in your youth,' Shiv began hesitantly. 'You found the home of a race of blond men. We need to know anything you can tell us about them.'

Azazir turned over a few flat stones. 'Why should I tell you my tales? No one believed me then. Why should I help the Council now?'

He scooped up a handful of snails and popped them into his mouth, crunching them shells and all. Aiten exclaimed in revulsion and turned away.

'These people are travelling to Tormalin and Dalasor. They are robbing and killing people. We need your help.' Shiv kept his tone level and persuasive.

'Nothing to do with me.' Azazir rooted about in the dirt and quite suddenly I lost my temper with him.

'Fine. If you're not interested, after we've come all this way to see you and put up with all your stupid tricks, you can go stuff yourself. Just do me a favour and wrap up this pissing rain long enough for us to light a fire and have something warm to eat. We'll be on our way and you can play mud-castles for as long as you like.'

Azazir looked up at me and I saw the first faint shading of humanity in his cold, dead eyes. 'I suppose if you weren't stupid enough to let the magic kill you, you might be interesting enough to talk to.'

He rose and walked towards the remains of his hovel, glowering at the ruined door. He was looking more and more human the further we got from the lake, and by the time we reached the cave he was starting to shiver slightly. Once inside, the walls glowed with cold green light as the house recognised him.

'Can we light a fire?' Aiten asked hungrily; his face reflected all our relief when Azazir nodded slowly.

'The chimney's blocked.' I stopped him before he tried to get a spark to some tinder and we went outside to clear it from the top. When we came back inside, Ryshad had started a small blaze and was breaking up the remains of the door and stacking it to dry by the hearth. Azazir was wrapped in Shiv's cloak and they were deep in conversation as Shiv explained the events that had brought us here. We ate a sparse meal but I would have paid all my noble coin for a cup of hot soup by now so I wasn't complaining. Even the mule was looking more cheerful as we tethered her by the door and a pile of grass.

'So, can you tell us about your journey?' Shiv asked finally. We all looked expectantly at the old wizard.

He cupped his chin in his hands, elbows on bony knees, and stared into the past. 'I was looking for the lost colony,' he began at last. 'I was born a Tormalin and we don't forget our families, even when magebirth takes us away from our duties to our blood.'

'What was your family?' Ryshad asked, earning a stern glare from Shiv for interrupting.

'T'Aleonne.' Azazir smiled at the memory. 'I was Azazir, Esquire T'Aleonne, Scion of the Crystal Tree.'

I could see this meant something to Ryshad and Aiten but realised I'd have to wait to find out what that was.

'We were a powerful family in the Old Empire,' Azazir went on. 'We had power, wealth; we were related to half the Emperors of the House of Nemith and descended from the House of Tarl. We could have been the founders of the next dynasty at home but my ancestor was caught up in the search for lands over the ocean. When Den Fellaemion took his ships to Kel Ar'Ayen, we sailed with him and helped build the new cities of the Empire overseas. My ancestors sat at the high table with Nemith the Seafarer and sailed the oceans with him. We were going to rule the new lands. We had the right and the blood claim.'

Anger and contempt twisted the old man's face. 'Nemith the Reckless, that's what the historians call him. I suppose Nemith the Whorestruck would be too honest for those arse-lickers. When they appeared, these blond men, the Men of the Ice, the colonists sent message after message asking for help, but none ever came. Nemith the last was too busy running the Empire into the fires to satisfy his lusts for gold and whores. He would rather fight the Mountain Men in his mad ambition to conquer Gidesta. I'll wager he was glad to know he need not face a challenge from a house ten times more fit for rule than his own. My ancestors did what they could. They spent every crown they had, but it was too late. The colony was lost and the Empire fell apart and my family sank into penury while lesser houses grew fat scavenging on the ruins of Tormalin's glory.'

Azazir stared sourly into the fire, brooding on wrongs to his blood, twenty generations past.

'You knew where to find the colony?' Shiv prompted gently.

'We had our archive. My family lost much, but we kept our history, not like the scum who came after us, who had no more ancestry than a street dog.'

Azazir's tone became indignant. 'No one believed us. The other families who had sailed the oceans were long lost and their knowledge was gone. My father was called senile and confused, mocked for his learning. I bided my time while I trained, but I knew that one day I would learn how to cross the open seas like my ancestors and claim what they had bequeathed me.'

He looked around at us, eyes bright with the conviction of the completely obsessed. 'I was born to do this, to restore my family fortunes. Why else would I be a mage?'

Grievance soured his tone again. 'I thought wizards would be different, they're supposed to be open-minded but they're as rotten with jealousy as the rest of them. No one would help me, they worked against me, I'm sure of it. No one wanted me to succeed. I could have been the greatest mage of my generation if petty minds had not thwarted me. I should have been Archmage but no one had my vision.'

'But you crossed the oceans, despite them?' Shiv managed to divert Azazir from his tirade.

'I did!' His tone was triumphant. 'I spent years learning the currents of the ocean and the secrets of the deep. I spoke to the fish and the beasts of the seas and even to the dragons of the southern waters. They taught me their secrets and I finally found an apprentice with the foresight to join his power to mine and make the crossing.'

'Who was he?' Shiv asked before he could stop himself.

Azazir scowled. 'Viltred, he called himself. He came with me but lost his nerve in the end. He was as spineless as the rest when it came down to real magic. None of them have the dedication that noble blood demands of its sons.'

Shiv gave me a rueful look as we sat and waited for Azazir's spite to run its course.

'So you made the crossing?' Shiv was able to ask when Azazir finally paused for reflection.

'I did. They said it could not be done, but I proved I could master the currents and the storms.' The old wizard straightened his shoulders with pride and raised his head high.

'Kel Ar'Ayen turned out to be a land of islands, separated by channels and sand banks and circled by the deep ocean. Those men, the Ice-dwellers, the Elietimm they were called in the old tongue, they must have bred like rabbits. They were everywhere, they had scoured the land nearly barren. I could find no trace of the Tormalin cities, all was lost. All I found were these savages with their yellow heads and fertile loins.' The sadness in his tone made Azazir sound nearly human.

'How can you be sure it was Kel Ar'Ayen?' Shiv asked cautiously.

Azazir looked at him, eyes bright with anger again. 'I found relics of our lost ancestors there even if the cities had fallen. I announced myself to the ruler of the place where we landed and at first he treated us as honoured guests, as was only fitting. The wealth of his house included silver, weapons and other valuables that could only have come from the Old Empire. His ancestors must have despoiled the dead like savages.'

The old wizard drew the cloak tighter around his shoulders and gazed into the fire again. 'That dog soon showed his true blood. We were detained, forbidden to leave our rooms, if you please, and when we protested, we were threatened with chains. He should not have done that, I am not some peasant to bow to a cock on a dunghill. He had no right to detain me or to hold the property of families ten times more noble. I took those heirlooms that I could find and we left. I was not going to be insulted when I should have been ruling those lands with his kind beneath the lash to till the soil and grateful for their miserable lives.'

'You brought heirlooms home?' Ryshad's urgent question made no impression on Azazir, who continued his rambling tirade.

'It's very hard to be sure of Old Empire relics, they're almost certainly just copies,' I said loudly, blending patronising scepticism with just enough pity to annoy.

Azazir took the bait and sat upright, fixing me with a cold green eye. 'You are an ignorant wench. What do you know of such matters?'

'Don't upset yourself, Grandad,' I soothed. 'If you want them to be Empire treasures, that's what we'll call them.'

Azazir got up from his seat with an oath and stalked into the back room.

'What do you think you're playing at?' Shiv hissed at me. I waved him to silence as Azazir came back with a cloth-wrapped bundle. Wherever he'd been keeping it was well secured, as it was dry and fragrant with preserving spices.

'If any of you have the skills to examine such valuables, you may look for yourselves,' he said loftily as he unrolled what proved to be a cloak a generation out of fashion.

I left Shiv to continue the questioning and looked eagerly at the contents. Ryshad joined me, sorting through jewellery, some weapons, a scribe's case and more of the small, personal items so similar to those Geris had disappeared with.

'What do you think?' I held a set of manicure tools up to the light.

'They're Tormalin all right, end of the Empire.' Ryshad ran his fingers over the crest on a silver goblet. 'This is D'Alsennin's insignia. That's Den Rannion and I think this must be a collateral line of Tor Priminale.'

None of that meant much to me. 'What's this about a lost colony?' I asked in an undertone.

Ryshad frowned. 'That's all a bit odd. There are stories of a colony being set up by Nemith the Seafarer, but all the histories say it was founded in Gidesta, when the House of Nemith were trying to expand the Empire northward. I've read some of the writings; whatever he's saying, it certainly wasn't on any islands. They talk about great forests, new sources for gold and copper, a river with gravel shoals full of gemstones.'

I whistled soundlessly. 'That would be worth finding again, just to break the Aldabreshin monopoly.'

'I agree.' Ryshad sat back on his heels with a sword in his hands. 'How could the histories be wrong?'

'What do they say happened to this colony?'

'It was overrun by the Mountain Men. They were far more widespread in Gidesta then and drove the Empire back. Nemith the Reckless swore vengeance and sent an army across the Dalas, but they got tied up in a campaign with no clear goals in sight. He got so obsessed with adding Gidesta to the Empire that he let the rest go rotten. The Empire fell, magic was almost lost until Trydek founded Hadrumal, and no one ever got to rule Gidesta.'

I pondered this story. 'Have you ever met any Mountain Men, Rysh?'

He shook his head. 'Not to speak of. They don't come south as a rule.'

'I know a couple of brothers who are old Mountain folk. They're pretty much pure blood, from some valley in the back of beyond, up near the Mandarkin border.'

'So?'

'They're shorter than most; the tallest is only about my height. Sorgrad is sort of sandy-haired but Sorgren is much fairer, almost as blond as these mystery men we're chasing. What if those historians of yours were confused, mixed up Nemith's war in the north with the fight for these lands overseas? If these colonies got wiped out like Azazir's saying, there can't have been many people left to put the archive right.'

Ryshad looked unconvinced. 'That's an ungodly leap in the dark, Livak. Anyway, there's no way these islands could be the colony, the description's just too different.'

I was about to answer but something in the folds of the cloak caught my eye. It was a long thin dagger, three blades joined to give vicious triangular wounds.

'What's this?' I turned it over to Ryshad, who shook his head.

'I've never seen anything like that before.'

Aiten looked up at this and came to see what we had. 'There's a nasty mind behind that,' he said admiringly.

'That's not Tormalin and I'd wager it's not Mountain Man work either.' I rummaged among the heap and came up with an oddly curved knife. 'What about this?'

Ryshad shrugged. 'Two unidentifiable weapons don't mean much.'

A sudden commotion ended our discussion.

'So all you came here for was to rob me, is that it?' Azazir sprang to his feet and glared at Shiv.

'No, what I asked was—'

'You don't believe me any more than the rest of them. All you want is to plunder the last of my fortune and enrich yourselves. I don't believe there are any strange invaders. You're lying to me, just like all the rest.'

Shiv winced as Azazir's bony hand slapped across his face. He coughed on a sudden mouthful of blood and swore as he held a hand to his gushing nose.

'I swear we are honest.' Ryshad fumbled under his shirt and drew out his medallion. 'I am a sworn man of Messire D'Olbriot and I seek vengeance on these foreigners for a grave insult to his blood. Here is his crest and my authority to use my sword in his name.'

'D'Olbriot? Of Zyoutessela? Have they risen so high?'

'Messire D'Olbriot is one of the Emperor's most trusted counsellors,' Ryshad said firmly.

'Who is Emperor now? Did Tadriol manage to hold it for his line? Who was chosen from his sons?' Azazir's anger vanished as rapidly as it had appeared.

'Tadriol, third son of Tadriol the Prudent, was chosen. There has been no acclamation as yet, so he has no title.'

I looked at Ryshad with interest. If he had advance knowledge on what the Tormalin patrons might decide to call their ruler, we could win an impressive sum in the gambling houses of places like Relshaz. I would have to discuss it with him further.

Azazir was diverted long enough for Shiv to recover his poise and, between them, they managed to calm down the outraged old lunatic. The price for his good humour was having to listen to more of his rambling spite against everyone and anyone who'd ever crossed him and I soon got tired of listening. I found his dismissal of women as only good for cooking, cleaning and sex particularly irritating and soon decided to get some sleep, if only to avoid the temptation of telling the old bigot exactly what I thought. I settled down in the luxury of dry blankets near a warm hearth and was soon away to the Shades.

The Silverlane, Inglis, 19th of Aft-Autumn

As far as I'm concerned, my presence here is entirely unnecessary, especially two nights in a row,' Casuel grumbled, sinking deeper into the fur of his hood.

As uncaring as the stars twinkling high above in the frosty night, Darni was staring intently at a narrow alleyway some distance away from their perch on a narrow balcony.

'Oh, stop moaning, Cas, just be ready to slam a ward across that door when I tell you,' he murmured, breath rising like smoke in the crisp air.

'You seem to forget that I have several broken ribs,' Casuel hissed with some asperity.

'Pigswill,' Darni retorted briskly. 'Cracked ribs maybe; if they were broken you'd be flat on your back, crying into a cup of tahn tea. I know; I've done it.'

Obviously nothing could be gained pressing that point; Casuel sulked for a while before trying again.

'Sitting cramped up here in the freezing cold is becoming most uncomfortable. It's past midnight and I'm getting tired and hungry. And stop calling me Cas, you know full well I don't like it.'

'I'd say I've earned the right to call you what I like, if we weigh things in Raeponin's balance. You still haven't said thank you to me for rescuing you, you know.' The grin in Darni's voice annoyed Casuel still further.

'Thank you, then, I'm very grateful, I'm sure,' he said stiffly. 'That doesn't alter the fact that I shouldn't even be here; that apothecary said I could have suffered interior damage as well.'

'Nothing to worry about, those trappers knew their business,'

Darni said in a bored tone. 'You're not pissing blood, are you? Stop fussing.'

'I should be in bed.' Casuel's voice rose indignantly. 'The apothecary said—'

'Keep your voice down.' Darni turned to frown dauntingly at him, eyes shadowed and forbidding in the dim light. 'You've been strapped up, haven't you? You want to take some exercise, put some muscle on; that'll keep your ribs in one piece next time.'

'There's not going to be a next time,' Casuel muttered into his collar.

'I'd say the chances of that depend on how long you'll be working for me.' Darni's teeth flashed in a faint gleam of moonlight.

Casuel shuffled his feet, clenching his buttocks against the stomach-churning notion that he might find himself in such an appalling situation ever again. A pot chinked against the railings, one of a clutter of urns discarded up here to await spring planting.

'Sit still,' Darni growled, low-voiced.

Casuel tucked his hands inside his cloak and cautiously prodded his ribs until a sudden stab of pain made him gasp and fold his arms against the temptation to test any further.

'I still don't understand what we're doing here. Ever since yesterday evening you've been saying you'd tell me in a moment, and I'm still waiting.'

'I want a wizard whom I can trust to seal up that door,' Darni said softly, not shifting his gaze. 'These local boys and girls might suspect I'll rip their legs off and kick them to death with their own boots if they cross me. You know it for certain.' He chuckled evilly and winked at Casuel.

'I don't find that amusing,' the mage snapped crossly. 'And you still haven't told me why we're here.'

Darni moved cautiously back from the balcony rail and scrubbed a hand across his beard to remove the moisture condensing around his mouth in the chilly night.

'That shop down there, the green door you're to ward, it belongs to a money-changer. He had a visit yesterday afternoon from a blond half-measure wanting to trade a hefty sum in Lescari Marks.'

'So someone didn't check the coin down to the bottom of the bag when he got paid for something?' Casuel snorted. 'Being stupid enough to get stuck with more than a handful of lead coins is uncommon, I'll grant you, but it's hardly suspicious.'

Darni stared at him with evident puzzlement. 'Do you ever listen to anything apart from the sound of your own voice? You were there when Evern explained this old coin-clipper is an antiquarian on the side, or did I imagine it? It looks as if he's got some of those antiquities Planir's after. We know these corn-tops are after them as well. So we wait for them.'

'You know, I should have been told about this business with Tormalin artefacts.' Casuel forgot the aches in his chest as this new grievance aggravated him afresh. 'I don't know how I'm supposed to work effectively with Usara if I'm not told what's going on.'

'I'd say everyone's a cursed sight safer, the less you know,' Darni said dismissively. 'You didn't get very far with Lord Armile, did you?'

'How did you hear about that?' Casuel stared at Darni, outraged. 'You can't bespeak Usara, you haven't the talent!'

'Allin told me.' Darni leaned closer and Casuel shrank back into the folds of his cloak. 'It all sounds very interesting. She said you'd been to Hanchet as well; I wonder who you saw there.'

Words failed Casuel, to his intense frustration. He jumped at a scraping sound as the shutters on to the balcony slowly edged open.

'There's no sign of anyone so far.' Evern slid through the gap and hunkered down next to Darni. 'I think this is a waste of time.'

'The Watch commander didn't think so.' Darni's voice was curt. 'He's given us men and permission to keep a vigil for five nights if we have to.'

'You think they'll come then?' Evern persisted.

'Yes.' Darni continued to stare at the distant alley.

'And they'll lead us to whoever killed Yeniya?'

'Yes.'

'You're sure about that?'

'They'd better or they're booked for a quick trip with Poldrion.' Darni stared grimly at the doorway.

A hiss of discomfort escaped Casuel as he shifted in a vain effort to restore some feeling to his numbed behind. Evern turned to scowl at him but, before he could speak, Darni tensed like a hunting dog scenting prey.

'Cas, come here,' he ordered, picking up a dark lantern. 'Light this.'

Casuel succeeded on the second attempt, fingers shaking. 'I'm too cold,' he said unconvincingly.

Darni and Evern ignored him, intent on stealthy movements in the street below. Several men ambled casually along the gutter and, as they crossed a side alley, an uncovered head gleamed pale under the stars.

'There!' Evern pointed at a brief flash of light from a distant window. Darni grunted and drew back the slide on his own lantern in answer.

Casuel struggled to see what was going on. 'Excuse me.' He tugged at Evern's elbow in annoyance.

Evern ignored him but moved to the balcony windows. 'I'll be with the Watchmen.'

Darni nodded, not taking his eyes off the darkness of the alleyway. 'Cas, get ready,' he commanded.

'They've gone past,' Casuel objected. 'They—'

He subsided as Darni raised a warning hand. 'Just do it when I tell you.'

Casuel narrowed his lips and peered through the railings at the door, now no more than a darker patch in a grey wall. He worked a little magic to help him see more clearly, reluctantly admitting to himself that he was somewhat fearful of the consequences of failing Darni. Catching shadowy glimpses of movement, he reached desperately down to the earth that provided his powers, sending that mageborn part of himself into and along the narrow street. The touch of stone and soil steadied and reassured him, restoring his wounded confidence.

His eyes glazed as he felt his way around the stone step of the door, spreading fingers of power into the masonry around it, gathering the magic into himself, poised for Darni's command.

Steps echoed in Casuel's mind as booted feet moved cautiously across the cobbles and halted. Men stood each side of the doorway, another bent to the lock and Casuel's senses tingled oddly as the door opened with no sound of key or lockpick. High-laced boots stepped quickly inside. More followed, iron nails striking sparks from Casuel's magic, walking rapidly across the road and entering without hesitation.

'Now.' Darni gripped Casuel's arm with a vice-like hand. He slammed down the spell with a wordless exclamation, commanding the stone to obey him, to clamp itself silently to the wood of door and window shutters in a bond no ordinary force could hope to defeat. He reached deep into the fibres of the timbers to extend the spell, giving it the strength of rock.

'Come on.' Darni sprang to his feet.

'No, I'll just wait—' Casuel was unable to complete his sentence, gasping as Darni hauled him roughly through the window and down the stairs.

'Run.' Darni moved, fast and surprisingly light on his feet for one so heavy-set.

Casuel hesitated for a moment then scurried after him, even more afraid of whatever dangers might be lurking in the black alleys than he was of what might await him in the house. At very least, he could keep Darni between him and any menace in there.

Evern caught up with them and Casuel saw lamplight shining on breastplates as Watchmen flung back their cloaks to run unencumbered. A squad gathered at the doorway as hammering sounds from inside echoed around the close-packed houses.

'Cas, blanket the noise,' Darni ordered at once. Casuel fumbled with the air, a blue flash escaping him, and the noise was muffled. He heaved a sigh of relief and grimaced at the shooting pain in his side.

Darni nodded at Evern. 'See, wizards do have their uses.'

'You,' Evern pointed at a Watchman and then up to a window where a yellow gleam showed,'tell whoever that is to go back to bed, that everything's under control.'

'Is it?' Darni demanded.

Evern lifted a silver whistle and blew a short sequence. Answering whistles came from over the rooftops and Casuel noticed another curious candle instantly snuffed in a house across the way.

'Ready,' Evern confirmed.

'Let's get in there.' Darni looked expectantly at Casuel, who laid a trembling hand on the wood of the door. The magic resonated under his fingers and the door flung itself open at his command. There was a thud as it slammed into whoever had been hammering on the inside and the Watchmen followed like an armoured stampede. Darni drew a gleaming dagger and paused on the threshold, barring Evern's grim-faced advance.

'We do this my way,' he warned before raising his arm. 'Gas, stay behind me.'

'I'll wait out here, if it's all the same to you,' Casuel said hastily.

'It's not. Get inside and give us some light,' Darni glared.

Casuel bit his lip and moved hesitantly to the rear as they entered the cramped house together. He winced at the sounds of fists smacking flesh and grunts as returning blows landed on unexpected armour. A hasty spell was sufficient to illuminate the room with bluish magelight and he hovered in the entrance, guts in turmoil at the prospect of more violence.

Now they could see what they were doing, the Watchmen moved to subdue the would-be robbers with practised brutality. Two were already pinned and being bound with cruel efficiency. Casuel exclaimed as a blond-haired youth was clubbed to the floor, blood streaming down his face. Another went down under a hail of blows, scrambling desperately under a table but dragged out to vanish under a heap of breastplates.

Casuel frowned and bit his lip; their resemblance to the man he'd encountered in Hanchet was striking, but he didn't really want to enter a conversation about that trip with Darni; well, it would hardly be relevant now, would it?

'Careful!' Darni snarled. 'We want them fit to talk.'

One at least showed he was still capable of that, albeit incomprehensibly, yelling what could only have been abuse as he fended off three Watchmen with a chair. They lunged towards him but he moved quicker, felling one with a smack in the face that brought the Watchman to his knees. A boot to the face sent the hapless trooper tumbling back into the legs of his colleagues, spitting blood and teeth, jaw hanging helplessly broken.

Darni was moving carefully round to his flank when a flash of silver startled Casuel and a throwing knife came hissing past his ear to bury itself in the pugnacious man's throat. He sank to his knees with a scream cut short into a bubbling gasp as blood gushed from his mouth. He swayed, clawing desperately at his neck, heedless of the cuts to his hands as he groped for the blade, slipping on his own blood as he tried in vain to regain his feet.

'Shit!' Darni darted forward, grabbed the man's hair from behind and cut his throat with a sudden gash reaching almost to the spine. The man collapsed like a marionette, blood spraying everywhere.

'We need them alive, you piss-head,' Darni yelled at Evern.

'Go stuff yourself, I don't take orders from you,' Evern snarled. 'Look what he did to Yarl.'

Darni did not spare the wounded Watchman a glance as a colleague supported him from the house. 'We need them alive to answer questions. Do anything like that again and I'll kill you myself.'

There was a still moment as all eyes went from Darni to Evern and back again, wondering, waiting. Casuel clamped his hands over his mouth, desperate not to vomit, panic-stricken at the thought of just how much that would hurt with cracked ribs.

Evern dropped his gaze first, turning to the wide-eyed captives. 'So, let's ask some stuffing questions,' he demanded.

Darni moved carefully around the gore and filth pooling round the corpse and came to look at the results of the Watch detail's handiwork. The youngest one was hanging limply in his bonds, only upright because of the burly Watchman propping him against the wall.

'What's your name?' Darni waved a hand in front of the white face. 'He's out on his feet, look at his eyes,' he said disgustedly. 'You lads are too heavy-handed for this work.'

The next man was eyeing him warily. When Darni spoke to him, he answered in a rapid scatter of harsh words. The other two stiffened in their captor's hands and their faces hardened. Darni silenced the man with a smack in the mouth but even Casuel could see new determination on the fair faces, eyes fixed on their fallen comrade lying in his own blood, the charnel scent filling the room.

'You can tell us what we need to know and you will be treated well,' Darni announced in a loud voice, taking a pace backwards to look at the captives in turn. 'Keep silent and it will go very hard for you indeed.'

Casuel looked at the blond men, wondering what was going to happen now and desperately hoping it wasn't going to be too messy. The stillness was broken only by a few heaving breaths, chinks and creaks from armour and leather as the Watchmen shifted their grip or their feet. The captives all looked back at Darni in defiant silence.

Darni shook his head and turned his back on them. He glanced at Evern and raised his eyebrows, tilting his head backwards a fraction. Evern frowned, then nodded minutely.

'Oh well, we'll just have to get Gas here to use that magic of his to turn their heads inside out for us,' Darni commented in a conversational tone. 'I'd rather they could keep their wits but we can cut their throats when he's done.'

Casuel opened his mouth, about to deny any such possibility when Evern trod heavily on his foot.

'That one, right-hand end.' Evern stepped up to glare at the man with a hatred that needed no translation. 'He blinked and the others both looked at him.'

'Right.' Darni stood in front of him, beard virtually brushing the shorter man's nose as he slowly wiped his bloody dagger down the man's homespun jerkin, cleaning first one side, then the other. He raised the blade and grinned viciously. 'This is going to hurt you a lot more than it's going hurt me, pal.'

'What are you going to do?' Casuel quavered, looking at the gleaming blade with sick fascination.

'Only what we need to, just enough to get our friend here to talk.' Darni slid the edge of the dagger up behind the man's ear. 'You see, there are all sorts of bits a man doesn't really need, not to talk with at any rate.'

A thin trickle of bright blood slid down the blade and Casuel ducked hastily out of the doorway, gulping down the cold night air as he sought desperately to control his stomach. A yell from inside the house startled him and he hastily wove handfuls of air to block his ears, screwing his eyes shut.

'How did I ever get dragged into all this?' he moaned wretchedly to himself. No amount of recognition or advancement could be worth this, not even a seat on the Council.

He gradually regained some measure of control and, shivering from cold and tension, leaned against the wall of the house, exhausted. Six chimes came faintly from a distant timepiece and Casuel wondered miserably if he could go home to bed. Better not, he decided reluctantly. This didn't seem like a good time to risk annoying Darni.

'All right, then?'

A hand on his shoulder nearly made Casuel piss himself but just in time he realised it was one of the Watchmen. The others followed, dragging along their doubled-over captives, boots scraping slackly on the cobbles.

'Here you are, Cas — souvenir!' Darni loomed out of the doorway and tossed a bloody gobbet of flesh at him.

Casuel skipped backwards with a squeak of revulsion, gorge rising as he saw it was a human ear. 'You didn't?' he gasped, appalled.

'No, I didn't.' Darni picked up the sorry fragment and tossed it back in the doorway. 'Sorry, couldn't resist it, not after I saw your face in there.' He grinned in high good humour.

'Then, then—' Casuel stammered as Evern emerged, followed by a Watchman carrying the last prisoner limp across his shoulder.

'We took him into the back room and told him we'd carve up his mates until he talked.' Darni wiped his hands on a gruesomely stained towel with an air of satisfaction. 'They all screamed pretty convincingly once we had their stones in the log-tongs. And we cut bits off the dead one to show him.'

'You are a nasty bastard, aren't you?' Admiration warred with awe and no little fear in Evern's tone.

'Worst in the pack,' Darni said agreeably. 'Come on, Gas, let's get home.'

Casuel stumbled after him as Darni set off through the silent streets at a cracking pace; he wanted to ask how the man could do things like that but did not dare.

A bleary-eyed maid let them into the Licorne Inn, squeaking with alarm when her candle revealed the blood on Darni.

'Don't worry, chick, it's not mine.' He smiled down at her and she backed away nervously. 'Any chance of something to eat? It's been a busy night.'

She bobbed a mute curtsey and lit a branch of candles on a nearby table before scampering off in the direction of the kitchen.

'You're hungry?' Casuel could not believe it. He hugged his aching ribs and longed for his bed. 'All right. What did you find out?'

Darni waved him to silence as the maid reappeared with a loaded tray. 'Thanks, chick. Here, buy yourself a new hair-ribbon. We'll take this upstairs.'

Casuel led the way with the candles and waited with growing annoyance as Darni chewed on a shank of cold venison, ladling on a fragrant sauce.

'Can I go to bed?' he demanded at length.

Darni shook his head. 'Sorry, I need you to bespeak Usara or Otrick,' he said thickly through a mouthful of bread.

'Not tonight!' Casuel groaned. 'What do you have to tell them anyway?'

'These flax-faces are from some islands, way out deep into the ocean.' Darni looked up from his food. 'What do you think of that?'

Casuel sat down and reached for a cup of wine. 'I think that's very interesting,' he said at length.

'Why so?' Darni's eyes were keen.

'I've come across a few odd passages in the writings I've been studying, things which would make more sense if there were lands across the ocean.' Casuel looked round vaguely for his books.

'Well, as far as I'm concerned, the important thing is that we've got a lead on where Geris is being taken.' Darni tore at the meat with his teeth.

'Oh, yes.' Casuel looked thoughtful. 'Did they say exactly what they were doing here?'

Darni shook his head, mouth full. 'No, not beyond tracking down and stealing Tormalin antiquities. Only he called it repossessing, kept rattling on about hereditary enemies.'

'These men that Shivvalan and the girl went off with, you said they were sworn-men to Messire D'Olbriot, didn't you?' Casuel fetched a map and unrolled it, pulling the candles closer.

'So?' Darni pushed the tray aside, heaved a contented sigh and poured more wine.

'So, he has an interest. More importantly, he's a leading Prince with interests all along the ocean coast.' Casuel looked up at Darni. 'He could get us a ship.'

Darni gazed at him for a moment before laughing. Casuel gritted his teeth and wished for just one chance to wipe that patronising smile off his beard.

'No, listen.' Casuel fought to hide his exasperation; this was important. 'Of course we'll tell Usara but, whatever they say in Hadrumal, if you want to rescue this boy Geris, you'll need a ship to get you there. The faster we organise one the better.'

The greater his own chances of attracting some positive attention from Usara as well, and perhaps even Planir, he added silently to himself. He needed something to set beside his less than spectacular record thus far. The benefits of such a service to a patron like Messire D'Olbriot weren't to be scoffed at either.

Darni shook his head. 'No, I don't want to involve any more people than we absolutely have to. Anyway, we'd lose the best part of the season trailing all the way down to Zyoutessela.'

Casuel pushed the map across. 'All the Princes will be in Toremal through For-Winter; that's when all the serious politics happen, the harvest is in and the seas are too rough for trade. If we can get to Bremilayne, we can send a message by Imperial Despatch. Those boys cover fifteen leagues a day; we'd have an answer in less than four.'

Darni peered at the map, his expression still unconvinced. 'I can't see the Despatch taking a letter from me, Planir's signet or not.'

'I can send it.' Casuel held up his own seal-ring. 'My father pays enough coin-tax.'

Darni leaned back and sipped his wine. 'I keep forgetting you're Tormalin-born,' he commented, rubbing his beard, dark eyes contemplative in the candlelight.

'Messire D'Olbriot is already involved from what you were saying, with that attack on his nephew or whoever it was,' Casuel went on. 'Surely Planir would be contacting him in due course anyway, if these men of his are working with Shivvalan?'

Darni shook his head and chuckled. 'You're as obvious as the stones on a stag-hound, do you know that, Cas. All right, we'll go for it.'

Casuel paused, momentarily at a loss. 'You mean it?'

Darni drained his goblet. 'Evern's already said we won't get a ship to sail from this far north, not this late in the season. All right, you can go to bed. We'll tell Usara that's what we're doing first thing in the morning. A handful of chimes won't make much difference.'

Azazir's Lake, 20th of Aft-Autumn

I don't know if Shiv used some magic on the fire but it was still alight when I woke the following morning, banked up with turf from Saedrin knew where. Ryshad, Shiv and Aiten were still snoring. There was no sign of Azazir. I poked the fire into life, added more wood, then took a kettle out to get some water. The mule greeted me with as much affection as she ever showed anyone and neighing from further down the shore proved to be Russet and the other horses, hobbled and making a hearty meal of the drying grass. Azazir had clearly not forgotten all he knew about normal life, for they had been unsaddled and roughly groomed, the gear dumped to one side of the doorway. I checked it quickly. Everything was intact, if covered in burrs and snagged with thorns; Azazir's magic must have caught them as they bolted terrified from the fog. That really was good news, as I'd expected them to be halfway to the Dalas by now.

I was looking uncertainly at the lake, wondering if it was safe to drink from it, when Shiv came out of the cave, yawning and stretching.

'Where's Azazir?' I asked.

Shiv shook his head. 'I don't know. He left just after midnight. I expect he's back in the water somewhere.'

He shivered and not from the cold. 'I've heard about mages becoming obsessed with their element but I don't think I'd ever really appreciated just what it meant. Do me a favour, Livak — if you ever see me going that way, stick one of your daggers in me, one of the rapid-acting ones.'

He stared at the waterfall, his expression now one of distaste.

'So what else did you learn about these Ice Men?' I asked briskly, disliking the fear in his eyes.

'What? Oh, well, I expect the Council will be able to locate these islands after further research. From what he was saying, I think we can be sure that's where these people come from. Ryshad seems to think several of the families targeted in Tormalin are descendants of those who were involved in the Seafarer's colony, so there is a link. I'm not sure where that gets us though.'

'Will the Council do something? What about Geris?'

Shiv's answer was lost in a rush of water as Azazir erupted out of the lake in front of us, naked body pale and unearthly again, eyes mad with rage.

'Did you lie to me, or are you just fools?' he hissed. 'You claim to be hunting these men, but I see they are hunting you! Do you take me for an idiot?'

'What? Show me!' Shiv wove power in an instant and the lake boiled at his feet. I ran for the cave and kicked Ryshad's feet.

'Wake up! Company is coming.'

While the others scrambled for boots, clothes and swords, I hurried back to Shiv's side. He was scrying in a pool of lake water and Azazir was sending his own shower of emerald light into the spell, enhancing the depth and clarity of the image immensely.

We gathered round and watched as the disc of enchanted water showed a group of the now familiar yellow heads bobbing through the tangling brambles and thickets of the forest.

'How did they know where we were?' I scowled down at the water. 'What if they've got Darni; would he have told them?'

Shiv shook his head. 'He'd die first.'

I could believe it; I hoped it hadn't come to that, despite my differences with Darni.

'I'd say they're hunting Azazir themselves,' Ryshad said after a few moments. 'They must be after the Tormalin valuables he stole from them.'

'Why now, after so many years?' I asked, frustrated again by all the mysteries in this business. 'Why, just when we happen to be here as well?'

No one had an answer as we watched the approaching enemies. The main difference between them and us was their direct path, unhesitating as they followed our trail. Even where we'd left no trace or where paths split, they did not even pause to debate the direction.

'More magic,' Ryshad murmured.

'Not that I can feel.' Azazir stared down at the image, face hard and suspicious. 'Let's see what they make of my defences.'

We watched as the invaders' advance was slowed by tangling briars, roots twisting up from the earth to catch feet and hooves, low branches swinging into faces and hair. There was no way to hear what they were saying but I'd bet it was profane.

'Wait a moment.' Shiv raised a hand and Azazir halted his assault. One of the Elietimm, as I suppose we could now call them, was raising a hand and seemed to be chanting something, his mouth moving in a more exaggerated fashion. My own jaw dropped open as we watched the tangle of vegetation unravel itself and part before them.

'What was that?'

Azazir looked mystified. 'It didn't touch my spell, it wasn't a counter-magic of any kind. He was dealing directly with the trees somehow.'

His expression turned to one of indignation. 'Let's see how he likes this.'

As the vicious old wizard threw more and more obstacles in the attackers' path, I studied the little figures in the image. The man with the chants was dressed just like the others, mail over black leather and sword in hand. Metal obviously posed no hindrance to his magic.

'Ryshad, what were the men you were chasing dressed like?'

'They were in local clothing mostly. We found out they were stealing it from laundries and the like.' He frowned at the scrying. 'What about the ones that went for you?'

'The ones in Inglis were in leathers like this lot but the ones in Dalasor were in old homespun and linen.'

'Are we looking at more than one group then? How do they move so fast?'

I was still trying to frame a reply when a shout from Aiten startled us away from Shiv's spell. Aiten had remained watching the lake shore while the rest of us studied the invaders.

'Over there!'

I followed his pointing arm to the far side of the water. A purposeful knot of brown-clad men was heading towards us. Their clothes were homespun but their swords were gleaming in the sunlight and surprise, surprise, so were their heads. A shout rang across the lake and I saw another group of the same make-up coming round the other way.

Azazir and Shiv dropped the scrying and turned to meet the new threat while Aiten and Ryshad moved forward together, swords drawn. Green fire from Azazir's hands flashed across the water and, where it touched two attackers, they halted, frozen, encased in thick, grey-green ice. Shiv wove air above the lake and twisted a great waterspout into the troop. Mud and debris flew into the sky and more of the Elietimm were torn limb from limb, the water blushing briefly red.

I was just starting to think it would all be over before they reached us when Shiv gave a cry. Blood spurted from a gash on his arm and he sank to his knees as some unseen force smacked into the side of his head. I approached him, but felt again the dragging, disorienting slowness that had hit me in Inglis.

'Can you tell who's doing this?' I yelled in desperation. 'Hit them with something. Stop them chanting.'

Azazir's hands wavered in the air, uncertainty on his face as he tried to decide on a target. I swore as a cut from nowhere opened up the back of my hand.

'It's the one towards the rear, with the cowl on his cloak.' I turned to see Ryshad had got a spy-glass out to study the attackers, hand steady despite blood oozing from his cuff.

The Ice Men wavered and a couple sank to their knees, water pouring unceasingly from mouths and noses. They began to choke and splutter and were soon drowning in the open air. My legs began to work again but, though Azazir had halted their magic, we still had to face their swords.

I cursed as I reached for my darts. Another fight and I wasn't wearing that bloody chainmail again. Luckily Ryshad and Aiten had shrugged on their armour and I moved behind them as I looked for targets; these men proved just as susceptible to my poisons and barely a handful of the first group survived to join direct battle.

One made the mistake of heading for Azazir and his sword passed straight through the wasted old body. I don't mean he cut him in half, I mean his sword passed straight through, the flesh opening and closing behind the blade, ripples spreading across the white skin. I could see the shock still freezing the man's face as Azazir plunged a suddenly liquid arm down his open mouth and drowned him where he stood.

I helped Shiv backwards and we watched as Ryshad and Aiten showed just what well-drilled Tormalin swordsmen can do. Evidently long used to working as a team, they protected each other as they cut into their foes with hard, economical strokes, moving in a deft and deadly pattern. Down was as good as dead and the first to reach us were coughing out the last of their lives in the mud while their mates fell back under the onslaught of two Tormalin-trained warriors.

I turned to check on the other group and saw them hesitating on the far side of the outflowing river. Azazir raised a hand and their very own hailstorm came hammering down, causing visible consternation. One stepped to the lake shore and threw something into the water. Azazir cursed and ran forward, diving cleanly in, hardly raising a ripple.

The group split. Some started to run away but more headed for us. Ryshad and Aiten came forward but, before they were needed, the waters of the lake soared upwards in an explosion of white foam. Torrents crashed back down to reveal gleaming green scales, a crest of scarlet spines and the sinuous shape of a water dragon. It reared up from the lake and its long head swung from side to side, tongue flickering around gleaming white teeth the size of swords. Wings like the sails of an ocean ship unfolded to shine in the sunlight, beating the air as the dragon curved upwards to stand impossibly on the surface on the lake. A shrieking challenge echoed back from the surrounding hills; everyone froze in shocked amazement.

Aiten broke our thrall. 'Come on, it can only be an illusion. Let's hit them while they're off balance.'

He and Ryshad ran forward and Shiv and I hurried on after. I was a little more wary.

The dragon hissed and darted forwards, snapping at the man nearest the shoreline. The great vicious head shot down and the gleaming teeth shut on his head like a bear trap. It tossed the ragged remains aside like some huge ungodly cat and ripped a second victim in half, then a third.

Ryshad and Aiten skidded to a half and we watched as the remaining Men of the Ice broke and ran in total panic. I nearly joined them as the dragon turned to hiss at us, bloody rags of flesh caught between its jaws. It regarded us with blazing crimson eyes, cat-slit pupils black as pitch. We stood in a still moment of uncertainty, then it folded those massive wings and sank beneath the turbid waters of the lake.

'That's some stuffing illusion!' Ryshad said shakily.

Aiten shook his head in disbelief. 'They killed the last one of those in my grandfather's time, he skippered one of the last dragon-boats. How could it live up here? They're warm-water beasts!'

'Was that Azazir?' I asked Shiv, who was looking as staggered as the rest of us.

He frowned and dipped cautious hands into the lake, whipping them out again as if the water were scalding. 'No, he's in there, but so's the dragon. They're definitely separate.'

'But dragons never came this far north,' Aiten insisted, clinging to what he thought he knew in the face of impossibility.

'I think,' Shiv began hesitantly, 'I think Azazir created the dragon somehow. They're elemental creatures after all.'

'Forget the dragon,' Ryshad said urgently. 'We're losing our best chance yet to catch up with those killers.'

'They're running scared.' I looked at him in agreement. 'They could lead us straight to their base.'

'Shiv, keep track of them while we get the horses,' Ryshad commanded. We left him kneeling over a pool while we ran back and threw gear and harness frantically on the beasts. Russet caught the scent of my urgency and became unexpectedly skittish. I swore at him and yanked on the bridle to settle him; we could not afford delay, these men might even lead us to Geris, if he were still alive.

When we returned to Shiv, he was weaving a complex pattern of amber light among the stones. He looked up and cold triumph coloured his smile.

'I've marked their trail. They can't get away from us now.' He looked past me to Ryshad. 'You've got the relics?'

Ryshad nodded as we mounted up.

'Azazir gave you his treasures?' I asked, incredulous. 'How did you manage that?'

'I pointed out that if I were busy studying them and pursuing the Archmage's orders, I'd be unlikely to have time to tell Planir about Azazir's tinkering with the rivers and messing about with the weather up here.'

Shiv's tone was as grim as his face. 'That's before we knew about the dragon of course, I'm not sure I can keep that a secret.'

I shuddered and looked nervously at the lake. 'Let's get a move on, shall we?'

Shiv rode ahead to follow whatever magic he was using and I found myself riding next to Ryshad. I noticed something different about him.

'You're using one of those swords from Azazir?'

He grinned a little uncertainly. 'Shiv said I should. I can't say it feels comfortable having a couple of thousand Crowns' worth of somebody's heirloom strapped to my side.'

That raised my eyebrows; I knew old swords were valuable, but that valuable? I wondered if I could claim a share of its worth, like the ink-horn. Probably not, I decided regretfully.

We soon reached more normal-looking woodland and halted as Shiv raised a hand. 'We're nearly on top of them,' he said quietly. 'I'd better take some precautions.'

The air around us shimmered like sunlight reflecting off a stream.

'Are we invisible?' Aiten asked hesitantly.

Shiv shook his head. 'Not as such, just difficult to see. If we stay at a distance and keep quiet, they shouldn't notice us.'

The day passed slowly as we picked our way after our quarry. Their initial panic-stricken flight slowed after a while but they continued at a steady pace considering the terrain.

'We're heading east, aren't we?' I asked Ryshad, trying to see the sun through the golden autumn leaves of the dense forest.

'At the moment,' he agreed. 'I'd say they're heading for the coast.'

I was beginning to wonder if they were ever going to stop as dusk deepened into night and they kept up their steady march, though both moons were virtually at full dark by now. I saw Shiv signalling us to stop and breathed a quiet sigh of relief.

He dismounted and walked back. 'They're making camp in a little glade just over that rise,' he said softly. 'We'll take turns to watch them, but I don't suppose they're going anywhere.'

Ryshad looked up from hobbling his horse. 'I'll take first watch, if that's all right.'

'I'll join you.' I gave Russet a final pat and we crept towards the ridge.

Ryshad moved through the woodland debris almost as quietly as me and I grinned at him approvingly when I caught his eye. We dropped to hands and knees for the final stretch and lay down to peer over the top of the rise. It was a cool night but dry and still, we weren't uncomfortable.

Our quarry were gathered around a small fire but I frowned as we watched them.

'They're not talking to each other much, are they?' I murmured to Ryshad.

He nodded agreement. 'They seem to be doing everything by drills.'

I soon saw what he meant. Half of the ten survivors ate while the others stood guard, they took turns collecting wood and water, and even stripped off and washed in unison, five by five. It made me shiver to watch them; I'm reckoned to be a bit obsessive about personal cleanliness, but even I'd pass on an open-air wash in this weather.

The squad wrapped themselves in their blankets in unspoken agreement and two sat in silent watch, staring out into the blackness of the forest night while their companions slept. Some instinct or training woke another pair some time later and they took over the guard, all without a word.

'They've lost their officer,' Ryshad said softly after a while. 'No one's giving orders, no one's discussing what they should do. There's no one in charge.'

I bit back a curse. 'We forgot to check the bodies, didn't we?'

The dark shape of Ryshad's shoulders shrugged. 'No time, was there? I reckon the ones throwing that weird magic around are the leaders in this outfit. This mob are just following their training, they haven't got anything else to do.'

'So where does that get us?'

I saw the gleam of his teeth in the dark as he smiled. 'I'll bet they're heading straight back for whoever's in command, or the quickest way home. Want to put a few Crowns on it?'

I shook my head before remembering he probably couldn't see me. 'No wager, Rysh.'

Nothing happened that night apart from the Elietimm getting more sleep than the four of us, which I mentally added to their debt against me. I sat and ate a cold breakfast while I watched them prepare for the next day's march and the others sorted out our gear. It was almost becoming boring, until I reminded myself just what these men had been doing. I wondered how men so lacking in initiative could have made such a calculated ruin of Yeniya; if they had just been following instructions, what kind of man could give those orders? I decided I was glad that we had probably killed him at the lakeside.

That day and the next few passed in similar unremarkable fashion as we trailed the increasingly dispirited squad further and further east. Their pace slowed and their routines became ragged. The trip was no hardship, the weather was cold but sunny and dry, and then we caught the salt scent of the ocean on the breeze and I realised we were nearly at the coast.