The Magestone

8 Kasarian—events at Lormt (7th Day, Moon of the Knife/Month of the Ice Dragon)

I found this confrontation with enemies who might possibly be manipulated into temporarily useful allies to be as exhilarating as a hunt at full gallop after the split-tusked boar . . . yet I was keenly aware that I was treading upon a sword’s edge. Constant vigilance was imperative, even if the enemy of one’s enemy did necessarily share some common aims. The interests of one’s Line and of Alizon itself had always to be foremost in crafting any would-be alliance.

I reasoned that these scholars at Lormt might well possess information about Escore that I could use to counter Gurborian’s efforts. It would not be advisable, however, to reveal to them that Gurborian was plotting to overthrow Lord Baron Norandor. That was purely an internal Alizonian matter, potentially hurtful should Alizon’s enemies learn of it prematurely, and turn it to their advantage.

I therefore chose my words with extreme care, emphasizing the potential danger to Estcarp should Gurborian’s faction forge an alignment with Escore’s Dark mages. The Lormt folk swiftly grasped the implications, I thought, but Duratan, their soldier, inquired why I, a presumed enemy, should warn them in advance? It was a clever question, doubtless intended to expose my motives. Fortunately, I had a ready answer, doubly impressive because it was both plausible and true.

“If Alizon must fight for territory,” I told him, “it should be with our own strength. Alizon’s barons who hold to the methods proved successful in the past have always shunned magic, whether it was wielded by Escorians or Kolder. I assure you that the Line Sired by Krevonel has consistently opposed any reliance upon magic. This notion of Gurborian’s that Estcarp’s Witch magic can be defeated by Escore’s Dark magic is yet another false idea, worse even than our previous recourse to the Kolder’s magic. What benefits did Alizon ever gain from the Kolder? My three elder littermates were all slain in the war with the Dales. Alizon gained nothing from that Kolder-inspired slaughter except some few baubles wrested from the Dales at a deplorable cost, and rivalries among the survivors for inherited baronies.”

Another volley of thumps from the old female’s staff interrupted me. She wrote furiously on her slate, and pushed it across the table to Morfew. “You say some baubles were taken from the Dales,” Morfew read aloud. “Have you ever seen or heard of one particular jewel—an egg-sized, bluegray stone set as a pendant on a silver chain?”

Bemused, yet startled, I thought that they could refer to only the one such stone. “Baron Gurborian was awarded a jewel of that description,” I replied cautiously. “It had been sent back from the Dales early in the invasion, and was considered to be one of the few prime treasures of the campaign.”

Although the Lormt folk’s expressions were guarded, I could see that they were keenly interested. Why should they care about old booty from the Dales . . . unless the mute female might assert some property claim?

She retrieved her slate and wrote a further message. “That pendant belonged to my family,” Morfew read aloud. “I have reason to believe that the stone may be an object of Power. Is Baron Gurborian aware of the nature of his prize?”

I was taken aback. The only stones of Power known to us were those cursed jewels wielded by Estcarp’s Witches. If Gurborian’s stone was concerned with magic, that would explain the peculiar weakness that afflicted me during and after the Baronial Assembly, when I had been in the same chamber with it . . . possibly even the dreams that assailed me later that same night. But Gurborian appeared totally unaffected, and he had been wearing the frightful object.

“No,” I told them honestly, “I do not think that Gurborian at all suspects that he possesses more than a mere jewel. We of Alizon are not . . . familiar with magical objects, and would not likely recognize that aspect unless it was revealed to us.”

Morfew stirred uneasily in his chair. “If Baron Gurborian should meet with any Escorian mages while wearing the pendant,” he fretted, “they would immediately sense the true nature of the stone.”

I slapped my hand on the table to emphasize my words. “All the greater cause,” I asserted, “to prevent Gurborian and his faction from arranging any such meeting. I do not know how this particular stone of Power might be wielded, but surely it would be vastly more perilous in the hands of Dark mages. I confide to you now my deepest fear, rendered more harrowing by this word anent Gurborian’s jewel: once the Dark mages of Escore have been enticed to cross the mountains, will they choose to retire voluntarily again behind that barrier as before? What shall Alizon do if Escore’s magic crushes Estcarp and is then directed against us?” The Lormt folk made no immediate comment, but I detected evidence of dismay in their frozen demeanor.

“I have heard this place called ‘Lormt of the Foolish Scholars,’ ” I persisted, “yet now that I behold you, I see no fools among you. It may be that lore preserved here could help me frustrate Gurborian’s efforts. Your land and mine have long considered one another enemies, yet I say to you, both Estcarp and Alizon must now beware of what may fall upon us from the east. Can we not work together to resist this threat? Will you help me search your archives for lore I can use against Gurborian?”

Although I had disturbed them, the Lormt folk showed commendable restraint. I had wondered whether the two females might cower or weep, but both preserved outward calm.

The old sire, Ouen, rose to his feet, and I also stood, along with the others. “You have given us many grave matters to ponder,” Ouen said to me. “Your questions are too vital to be answered in haste. Let us all retire now to think, and to sleep. We shall confer again on the morrow.”

The Wise Woman motioned brusquely toward the door. “I shall conduct you to a guest chamber nearby,” she said.

As I followed her, I noticed that the party remained standing. No doubt they intended to talk further after I had departed. I was not offended, for I should have done the same had we been in Alizon, our roles reversed. I turned at the door. “You honor me with your courteous attentions,” I said.

To my surprise, Morfew smiled. “I have not heard that admonition since I was a pup!” he exclaimed, then he shook his head, his somber air restored. “I hope on the morrow, Kasarian, that we may have time to discuss those past events concerning my pack. It has been an equally long time,” he added, “since I have heard the words ‘blood feud.’ ”

I bowed, and touched my Line badge to him. The Wise Woman closed the door behind us.