Magi'i of Cyador

LIV

THE MAGUS IN the shimmering white, with the silvered cupridium pin worn by only the three highest Senior Lectors on his collar, stands beside the Captain-Commander of the Mirror Lancers in an alcove twenty cubits from the three-story-high doors to the Great Halt-the main audience chamber of the Palace of Light. The polished white floor tiles reflect their images with but the slightest waver, portraying Luss’alt and Kharl’elth almost as clearly as might a glass.

Even Kharl’s red hair and Luss’s bushy black eyebrows hold their tints in their reflected images. The walls of the Palace shield them from the cold breeze that blows out ofthe north, creating small whitecaps on the harbor to the south, and far larger ones on the Great Western Ocean beyond.

“I suppose,” Kharl says easily, “that you and the Majer-Commander have discussed increasing the number of companies of the Mirror Foot?”

“Why would the Mirror Lancers consider such?” Luss’alt frowns. “What is the need beyond duties as ship marines and guards?”

“No need, I suppose,” Kharl replies. “Although …” He shakes his head, then smiles apologetically.

“When you beg me to ask a question, devious Second Magus, you have something to say of the nature you would have me guess. Guess I will not.”

“I am sorry.” Kharl smiles apologetically. “Some habits die with difficulty.” He shrugs. “One dare not speak too directly in the Quarter of the Magi’i.”

“You never speak that directly, honored Second Magus.” Luss’s bluff voice carries a hint of amusement. “But, if you would, a slight effort in that direction would be appreciated.”

“Ah, yes, a slight effort.” Kharl purses his lips dramatically, and his green eyes carry a sparkle of amusement, conveying an impression of youth.

Luss nods to encourage him.

“Was there not a fire upon the Ocean Flame an eightday past?”

“There was.” Luss waits, as if to indicate that he has no intention of guessing.

“And it was caused, as you may have overheard, by the weakening of the barriers of one of the chaos cells that power the fire cannon.”

“So it is said.”

“You know that salt water weakens metals, and the basic order of the oceans wars against chaos reinforcement. Then … suppose … just suppose … that more cells are found to be weakened … or that the chaos towers in each ship suffer a similar degradation ….”

“Hmmm,” muses Luss. “If that be the future, then wewould have to build our warships as do the Hamorians. As Rynst has already planned.”

“Cannon of the old style might be possible,” continues Kharl, “but without the threat of the fire cannon, other warships might well attempt to board ours … if you understand what that might entail.”

“Devious mage …”

“You are the officer responsible for the Mirror Foot. They are trained near Cyad, as I recall. They could be stationed in the empty barracks by the eastern seawall. If times should become … unsettled … well … I trust you understand.”

Luss’s lips curl. “I will think upon your … suppositions.”

“Of course, my friend. Of course.” Kharl spreads his hands. “That is all I wished from you.”

“Whatever it be, that is never all that you wish.” Luss snorts loudly. “Never.”

Kharl shrugs gracefully, as lithely as if he were still but a youth.