Magi'i of Cyador

LXXX

IN THE BRIGHT light supplied by the wall lamps and their polished cupridium reflectors that are unnecessary for those within the chamber, First Magus Chyenfel moves deliberately, almost cautiously, to the armchair beside the desk in the austere study on the uppermost level of the tower that crowns the Quarter of the Magi’i. It is a tower in name only, for it rises but five levels, far less imposing than the Palace of Light-except to the Senior Lectors of the Magi’i and those who know what transpires within the Quarter. Silently, Chyenfel’elth seats himself, then waits for the Second Magus to take the chair before the desk.

“Ser?” asks Kharl’elth. “You do not summon often in the evening.”

“When I am tired, and less on guard? You are right. I do not.” A smile appears and vanishes. “I wish to know why you discourage Captain-Commander Luss from voicing his support of the sleep-ward project to the Majer-Commander, and why you have likewise discouraged the Emperor’s Merchanter Advisor.”

Kharl smiles warmly, his green eyes dancing. “I have said not one word against this effort. Not one word against it to anyone, ser.”

Chyenfel offers a dramatic sigh. “That is the same as discouraging it, and we both know it. I have held my counsel, believing that we had time, and that in the fullness of that time, the need would become obvious without having to raise one’s voice or the power of the Magi’i.”

“That was wise, ser, for the replenishment towers here in the Quarter may fail soon, if one by one, and the barbarian attacks are increasing, requiring more firelances, and more charges for those lances.” Kharl’s words are bland. “As you know, I fear the barbarians more than the Accursed Forest.”

“Failing to deal with the Accursed Forest may be wise for a season or so, perchance, even a year, but not longer.” The sungold eyes of the First Magus lock upon the green eyes of the Second Magus, which carry but a shade of the sungold sheen. “Yet you know as do I that the ward-wall on the northeast side of the Accursed Forest is barely holding, and that we have lost yet another chaos-tower there.”

“I have read the reports from the Mirror Engineers that have suggested such.” Kharl shrugs offhandedly. “We both understand the dangers. Yet we do not wish to incur the Emperor’s displeasure-or that of the Majer-Commander of Lancers-by limiting further the chaos charges we supply to the Mirror Lancers. Or by reducing the number of firewagons that travel the Highways of Cyador. We have already limited the use of tow-wagons on the Great Canal.”

The First Magus waits.

“That is why we … intimated that Captain Lorn-orshould I say, Lorn’eith? — be assigned such patrols on the northeast ward-wall border.” Kharl brushes back a stray reddish hair, almost absently, yet affectedly. “He is likely to be … more effective.”

Chyenfel’elth’s mouth smiles, but his sungold eyes are politely intent, never leaving the Second Magus. “That was indeed wise, Kharl, if not precisely for the reasons you discussed with Captain-Commander Luss.”

“We also need the time to ensure your project works,” Kharl continues, “and that is another reason why I have not yet pressed for its implementation. All the while, the ward-wall must seem as strong as ever until we are most certain we can complete your project.”

“I almost believe you, honored Second Magus.” Chyenfel steeples his long delicate fingers before him.

“Are you convinced it will work, ser?” asks Kharl abruptly. “This great project of which you speak to the Emperor so intently?”

“Completely? No. But it matters not. If it does not work, then Cyad is better served by knowing such while other chaos towers yet remain. There will be no towers in a generation, and only a handful of firelances charged by the laborious concentration of the scattering of first-level adepts. Each year will find but a few score cupridium blades produced to hold back the barbarians of the north.” The sungold eyes flare. “You know this. The risk is worth it.” An ironic smile follows. “Except to those who wish to seize power now-or in the poor handful of years to come.”

“I have never opposed you, ser.” The warm smile plays once more across Kharl’s face.

“But … knowing how I can truthread you, most honored Second Magus, you are most careful of what you say, and how you say it.”

“As are you, ser,” replies Kharl. “As are we all.”

“Again, you are most accurate, Kharl, most accurate. I would that you consider turning your considerable charm and judgment to support what we must do to confine the AccursedForest for more than the handful of years left to the chaos towers and their crystal wards.”

“I hear, honored First Magus, and I will begin.”

A faint smile once more appears on Chyenfel’s lips, and he rises to signify the meeting is at an end.

Kharl also rises, and his smile could be a mirror of that on the lips of the First Magus.

Neither the sungold eyes nor those of dancing green with the intermittent gold cast bear any semblance of a smile.