The Thief's Gamble

Taken from:

Nemith the Reckless — 7th Year and Last

Annals of the Empire — Sieur D'Isellion

It was in this year that Nemith, last of that line, succumbed to his most foolhardy ambition, the conquest of Gidesta. The year began badly, a double dark of the moons at Winter Solstice is always inauspicious, yet Nemith scoffed at the customary rites to propitiate Poldrion at such a time and humiliated the Auspex who came to take the auguries for the coming year. Relations with the official priesthood deteriorated sharply from this point.

It was at the Imperial Solstice festivites that rumours began to circulate that the Emperor would be acclaimed at Equinox with the epithet 'Reckless'. The delay in his acclamation by the Great Houses mas already a source of considerable irritation to Nemith and his correspondence with General Palleras suggests he mas even considering the use of military force against some of his more outspoken detractors. While such an idea may seem hard to credit, this mould explain his unprecedented decision to retain the cohorts under arms from the previous year, through harvest and on into the autumn and winter seasons. Needless to say, such orders mere very unpopular with the troops, leading to considerable unrest in the camps as well as a poor harvest and hardship in the rural areas with so much of the workforce absent. This in turn forced up the cost of bread in the cities and led to growing agitation among the urban poor. The princes of the Great Houses remonstrated with the Emperor on several occasions, until Nemith showed his contempt for Sieur Den Rannion by using his letters as napkins at one of his debauched entertainments. The Princes of the Convocation refused all invitations to the Imperial residence from that point but Nemith merely took this as a sign of their acquiescence.

By Equinox, the cohorts were suffering famine in their encampments and revolt threatened. Nemith sought desperately for a campaign which would both offer the soldiers booty and remove them from the more prosperous reaches of the Empire. Believing Caladhria and Dalasor to be pacified, he ordered the troops north across the Dalas. The tales of distant riverbeds thick with gold and cliffs laced with seams of silver are repeated several times in his letters to his wife, evidently a powerful incentive. As the Imperial accounts for the year show, he was nearly bankrupt by this point and all the Princes of the Great Houses had been refusing him credit for two full seasons. He was indeed acclaimed as 'Reckless' at the Equinox Convocation, an insult all the more galling as he was, of course, unable to retaliate in any way.

The Gidestan campaign began badly as the Mountain Men emerged from their winter homes in the valley fastnesses of the Dragon's Spine and began to fight back. Their ferocity overwhelmed peasant levies used for undemanding duties in Lescar and Caladhria. More crucially, it became apparent that they had far greater numbers to field than had been expected. In alienating princes, patrons and priests, Nemith had left his armies without experienced commanders, essential intelligence-gathering and the means of rapid communication and resupply. As his losses mounted, desertion became a major problem; Nemith ordered ever more harsh disciplinary measures but of course this only made matters worse. The Princes refused to levy more cohorts from among their tenantry and openly sheltered men fleeing the Emperor's own lands. It is debatable whether Nemith could have salvaged his rule at this point by withdrawing back across the Dalas. Perhaps he could, but events in Ensaimin and Caladhria soon made this academic.

Inglis, 11th of Aft-Autumn, Morning

It was full daylight when I woke next morning and, for a fleeting moment, I lay there, enjoying the soft bed and the peace and quiet. Then I missed Gens' warmth in the soft woollen covers and the chaos of the day before came crashing back.

'Livak?' Shiv's soft voice at my door saved me from tears.

'I'm awake, come in.' I scrubbed the sleep from my face with my hands.

He entered with a steaming jug and placed it on the wash-stand. I swung my legs out of the bed and reached for my last clean shirt. It wasn't for modesty's sake; it was getting distinctly chilly in the mornings now we were well into After-Autumn. Well, I didn't have to worry about Shiv making advances, did I?

Shiv opened the shutters and I frowned at him. 'You look shattered. You told us to get some sleep — what were you doing?'

'I thought of a few more things to try,' he admitted sheepishly.

'You can't afford to exhaust yourself,' I said sternly. 'Drianon, I'm sounding like my mother, Shiv. Don't make me do that again!'

He managed a half-smile. 'There's a man asking for you. His name's Ryshad; he said you would know what it was about.'

That got me out of bed and dressing fast. 'Where is he?'

'In the parlour. Darni's organising some breakfast.'

I pitied the poor kitchen maids. When I got to the parlour, Darni was eating bread and meat with single-minded concentration and ignoring Ryshad completely. He was sitting with a mug of small beer and seemed unconcerned at the waves of hostility coming across the table.

'Ryshad, thanks for coming.' I looked at the food on offer: meat, bread, some leftovers from the night before. No oatmeal; I looked at Darni and decided to do without. I took a bowl of some sort of fruit pudding and a goblet of wine, watering it well.

'So, what's your interest in all this?' Darni looked up from his food, his eyes challenging.

'I'm hunting yellow-haired men who attacked a relative of my patron,' Ryshad said in an easy tone. 'Livak and I met a few days ago and swapped a little information. She tells me they seem to have taken one of your friends.'

'You're from Tormalin then?' Shiv looked interested and I was too.

'From Zyoutessela. I'm a sworn man to Messire D'Olbriot.' He reached into his shirt and fetched out a bronze amulet stamped with a crest.

'Which means what, exactly?' Shiv enquired.

'My sword is his,' Ryshad said simply. 'I do his bidding.'

I didn't know the name but the title and style meant old blood and if he was reckoned a patron, this D'Olbriot must be a major player in the complexities of Tormalin politics.

'Do you know him?' Shiv looked enquiringly at Darni.

'I know of him — and carrying a sworn man's insignia without commission is a hanging offence.' Darni's air of belligerence faded a little and he looked at Ryshad with a measuring eye. 'Messire D'Olbriot can trace his line back three more generations than the Emperor and doesn't mind letting him know it.'

'What did these men do to him?' I reached for more water.

'They attacked one of his nephews on his way home from a banquet. The lad was beaten and left for dead; he's blind in one eye now and cannot use one of his arms. His mind is damaged too; he's little more than a child again.' Ryshad's anger showed briefly through his dispassionate words and he unconsciously twitched his cloak away from his sword-hilt.

'Why did they do it?'

'As far as we can tell, robbery. He was wearing some heirloom rings, the only things taken.'

Shiv and Darni exchanged glances which Ryshad noted as he continued.

'My patron wants revenge for the injuries and the return of his property. If I catch up with them in a place where there's reliable justice, I have authority to hand them over. If not, I have orders to kill them myself

I didn't have a problem with that and in any case who was going to get in the way of a Tormalin prince's man?

'You're going to deal with them on your own?' Darni tried and failed to keep the sarcasm out of his tone.

'I'm working with someone and we're fairly effective in a fight if we have to be.' Ryshad's voice was assured. 'We generally hire local help if it's required.'

'What era were these rings?' Shiv asked.

'Nemith the Seafarer.' Ryshad looked at me expectantly. 'It looks as if you're not the only ones collecting antiquities.'

Shiv silenced Darni with a gesture. 'I take it Livak told you we're working for Planir?'

Ryshad nodded. There was an awkward silence as everyone wondered what to say next. I broke it by thumping my bowl down on the table. 'Right, now we've established we're all working for really important people, we can all act suitably impressed later on. What are we going to do about finding Geris? What do you know about these people, Ryshad?'

He grimaced and ran a hand over his unshaven chin. 'Not much. They're foreign, I mean really foreign, not from any of the Old Empire countries.'

'Could they be Soluran?' Darni sounded doubtful.

Ryshad shook his head. 'I know Solura quite well; these men aren't like anyone I've heard of from that side of the world. As far as I can find out, they're not speaking in Soluran, any of the old provincial languages, or even Tormalin.'

That was odd; everyone speaks Tormalin as well as their mother tongue don't they? You have to if you want to be involved in trade or learning of any kind.

'How are they managing to communicate with people then?' Shiv looked more concerned than I thought the question warranted.

'They aren't bothering. I've been trailing them up the length of the coast, and I can't find anyone who's had direct dealings with them, not that's still alive anyway. They turn up somewhere, perform a task and leave the same night.'

'What are they doing?' I was starting to think I already knew the answer.

'Taking Tormalin antiquities, mainly,' Ryshad confirmed. 'They don't make any effort to hide what they're doing. They hit someone, beat them senseless or even torture them, and then take some ancient jewels or a sword, heirloom silver, that sort of thing. It makes no sense; what they're taking doesn't warrant the level of violence they're using. When we go after them, they've disappeared like smoke in the breeze.'

'What else are they up to?' Darni's hostility was waning as his professional interest was aroused.

Ryshad sat forward. 'You may be able to make more sense of this. They've been attacking shrines and killing priests.'

He looked a little disappointed as our blank expressions showed our ignorance.

'If they're coming and going like marsh gas, how did you get here ahead of them?' Darni enquired, all business now.

'They've been working up the coast in a fairly direct line and only hitting the big cities. After Bremilayne, there wasn't anywhere else for them to go. We thought we'd got ahead of them for once. We've been waiting here for half a season and now they come out of nowhere again and take your scholar.' Frustration gave a sharp edge to Ryshad's tone.

'That's not all they've done. You'd better all know about Yeniya; we could be in a winter's worth of cowshit if the Watch come looking for us.'

I put down my drink and told the tale of my hair-raising evening. It made me shiver just to remember it, and my breakfast soured in my stomach.

'Was that coincidence, or did they know you were going to hit Yeniya?' Ryshad mused.

Darni looked a little sick. 'They could have got it out of Geris.'

'No, she was dead before we left him here, I'm sure of it.' I did not like to think of Geris in the hands of men who could do what I had seen.

'Tell me more about the disorientation,' Shiv commanded, looking up from some notes.

I went through it again. 'Was it magic?'

'It's nothing I know of Shiv sounded positively offended. He dripped sealing wax on to a folded parchment and stamped it with his ring. 'I'll be back in a moment.'

Darni looked at me as Shiv left the room. 'You're not really used to fights, are you? Remember the Eldritch ring; you were in an ungodly state after that. Are you sure it wasn't just fear getting to you?' His tone was carefully neutral.

I shook my head. 'I'm used to creeping about in dark houses, Darni. I don't jump at shadows and I've got Forest sight, remember. I was scared, sure, but that makes my wits sharper.'

There was a pause while we all looked at our hands and I thought seriously about leaving the lot of them to it and heading back for Ensaimin. I'd missed the fair at Col, but I could pick up Halice if she was fit to travel and we could head for Relshaz where Charoleia would be wintering. I sighed. I couldn't leave without knowing what had happened to Geris; I owed him that much at very least. I fought an illogical annoyance with him for getting himself taken like that. That's what comes of playing with amateurs.

Shiv came back in. 'I'm going to contact Planir,' he said abruptly. 'He's got to know what's going on and I need some instructions.'

'There's no need to do that,' Darni objected. 'We could have Geris back by tonight. These men have surely left a trail.'

'I've been after them since For-Summer and I've never found one,' Ryshad said calmly.

'Geris isn't stupid; he could well get himself free,' Darni insisted.

'If he's capable. The innkeeper said he seemed to go willingly with these men. Did he speak to anyone, do you know?' I asked.

'No, but what's that got to do with anything?'

'Oh come on, Darni.' I tried to keep my tone friendly. 'When did Geris last go anywhere or do anything without talking non-stop? He wouldn't go willingly, and that means more magic.'

'We need instructions and the Council has to know what is going on,' Shiv insisted.

'We can handle this ourselves.' Darni's colour was rising.

'I think Livak's right about Geris. Magic is involved here, and that means it's my decision,' Shiv snapped, unaccustomed iron in his tone. He slammed the door behind him. I wasn't going to stay and wait for Darni to find a target for his annoyance, so I stood too.

'I need some money, Darni.'

'What for?' The abrupt change of subject confused him.

'Half my clothes are covered in blood and I don't want to give the laundrymaid that juicy a bone to throw to the Watch. Any more fights and I'll be wearing a dancing gown and slippers.'

Darni reached into his belt-pouch and threw a handful of coins on to the table, muttering something about women and priorities.

I scooped up the coin and smiled at Ryshad.

'Let's go shopping,' he said agreeably.

Morning trade was brisk as we made our way through the streets. I was in my plain skirts and petticoats, and in his unremarkable homespun, Ryshad could pass for a local pretty much anywhere.

'Information,' I said in a low tone. 'Who has information in this town?'

'Let's check the broadsheets first.' Ryshad was clearly heading down the same trail.

The frames in front of the printers' guild-house were attracting a good crowd. When we made our way to the front, I could see why. Yeniya's murder was going to be the biggest news here for a while; no wonder when one of her most eager suitors was a major player among the paper-makers. She had been raped and strangled, according to the broadsheet. Did this mean the writer had faulty information, or were the Watch keeping back details to help them identify the killer?

Ryshad tapped a passage lower down the page. The Watch wanted to hear from anyone who had let rooms to a group of men, possibly brothers, yellow of hair and beard. I was more concerned about the description of four men seen in the area of the murder, miners or trappers by their clothes, one slight in build and red-haired. I hoped my erstwhile rescuers had the sense to keep their mouths shut. With any luck they would still be drinking their way through my money and too soaked to talk to anyone. Whatever, it looked as if I'd better stick to my skirts for a while.

We headed for a draper's stall where Ryshad bought me a shawl.

'So who writes that sheet and where does he get his information?' I wondered as I tucked my hair under the shawl, glad of the warmth as much as the concealment. 'Do we want to let him know we have an interest?'

'Would he know any more than he's written? The guilds run this city and they run the Watch.' Ryshad glanced apparently idly round the square as I pinned. 'They've got to have sources.'

'Let's keep our eyes open then.' I smoothed my skirts and we embarked on a lengthy shopping trip. I was almost enjoying myself until we passed a stall selling hot cups of tisane. I hated to think what might be happening to Geris. I forced myself to concentrate as we continued our masquerade.

'What do you think of this one?' I held out the fifth shirt again and Ryshad glanced at it.

'It's lovely, dear. If you like it, buy it.' His eyes had the glazed desperation of a man taken shopping for linen just perfectly.

'I'm not sure. What about the one with the embroidery?'

'What?' Ryshad looked back from his seemingly aimless staring into the middle distance.

'You're not paying attention, are you?' I grumbled. The draper tactfully refolded some drawers and I had to struggle to keep a straight face as Ryshad winked at me.

'I'm getting thirsty.' Ryshad raised a hand as I was about to launch into a full-scale scold. 'Buy them both and take that amber silk as well. I'll treat you.'

The draper looked delighted and no wonder, given the price of silk this far north. It was a good colour for me too. Ryshad paid up and we went on our way with yet another parcel.

'Well?' I asked.

'You'll need breeches and I think I'd better go and buy those.'

'What do I do in the meantime?'

'Sit and take a cup of wine and watch that musician.'

Ryshad steered us towards a pleasant enough tavern where I sat outside, ostensibly to enjoy the thin sunshine and the thinner wine. As I sorted my bundles, I kept a dose eye on the lute-player. He was propping up a monument to someone or other and playing jaunty Lescari dance tunes. Passers-by were dropping him coppers but I saw a couple of beggars approach him as well. They stopped to talk and he handed them each some coin. Was this just friendly co-operation among the street dwellers? That's about as common as hen's teeth where I come from.

A Watchman came to move him on and the lutenist rose to protest. I watched as they stood toe to toe and argued the point. Odd, that, I'd not seen the Watch bothering with the streetpeople before. The lutenist was not annoying anyone; in fact, he played quite well, well enough to get work in the taverns for a start. The Watchman pushed him back against the statue; I didn't see him pass anything, but I'd have bet Darni's best sword that something got handed over. The musician moved off across the square and I looked around in frustration for Ryshad; I didn't want to lose any hint of a scent.

I breathed a sigh of relief as Ryshad reappeared. I was moving before he reached me.

'You're right, he's definitely doing something for the Watch. Shall we follow him?' I looked round to check I could still see the musician.

'Not just at present. We can find him again and I don't want the Watch to notice our interest in him.' Ryshad led me in the opposite direction. 'They're out in force now and rousting all the riff-raff. Some are just getting a kicking but a few are getting off a bit too lightly and heading off fast.'

'So we let our friend with the nimble fingers gather as much as he can before we ask him a few questions? Offer him the choice of gold and keeping his mouth shut, or a dagger in a dark alley if he rings the Watch bell on us?'

Ryshad smiled. 'I think so. Let's drop this lot off and then we'll go and find Aiten, my partner. I'd better let him know what's going on.'

We stuck our heads into the parlour when we got back to the inn. Shiv was deep in conversation with a nervous-looking young man in an unnecessarily florid robe.

'So who else might be researching trail magic?' Shiv was asking in exasperation.

'No one,' the unhappy youth insisted. 'I've asked everyone I can think of, and no one is doing that kind of work. I can't even think how you'd start trying for that kind of effect. I suppose you could—

'Never mind.' Shiv looked up at us. 'Any news?'

'Sorry.' I shook my head. 'We'll be back later on. Where's Darni?'

'Out.' Shiv's expression spoke volumes.

I gestured to his companion. 'Any leads?'

'It seems the Watch are asking hard questions among the wizards. They're convinced magic was used to get to Yeniya somehow.' Shiv sighed. 'I daren't make myself too conspicuous asking around; someone could decide to cover their arse by pointing the Watch at me.'

'See you later.' I pulled the door shut and turned to Ryshad. 'So, where are we going?'

'The bear-pits.' He looked at me appraisingly. 'Can you look a little less respectable?'

I let down my hair and arranged the shawl low around my shoulders, unlacing the neck of my shirt. 'Good enough?'

He grinned. 'Fine.'

It took us some while to find his pal among the bloodthirsty crowds at the beast sports. I was very tired of having my bottom pinched by the time Ryshad waved to a face in the mass of people and gestured to the door. The smell of blood and the cries of animals in pain made me think of Yeniya; I've never seen the point in baiting anyway.

'Ryshad! Nice to see you!'

'Livak, this is Aiten.'

Aiten was middling height, middling size and unremarkably brown of hair and eye, the sort of man your eye would pass right over in a crowd. He was looking at me uncertainly so I fluttered my eyelashes at him and looked as cheap as I could.

Ryshad laughed. 'Don't be fooled, Ait. She's working with some Archmage's agents and when she gets bored with that, D'Olbriot could do worse than offer her a job.'

'So, what's the news?' Aiten was all business as we walked to the rail of the nearest arena.

Ryshad gave him an admirably succinct explanation of developments while I watched the hawk-fanciers put their birds through their paces.

Aiten looked unhappy. 'There's not been a sniff around here. The Watch came through earlier and took off a few of the more obvious ruffians, but it was more like a routine rubbish sweep than a search for anyone in particular.'

'So the bastards popped up, ripped that poor bitch apart, dropped back into their hole and pulled it in after them again?' Ryshad's face was hard and set. 'I'm getting tired of this.'

'I'll see what I can find out.' Aiten looked around. 'I'll try the hawking once the competitions get started. I'll need some money for bets.'

Ryshad handed over a plump purse. How come I had never got into business with a rich backer? Because all too often it means taking orders from someone like Darni, I reminded myself.

'Got an eye for a good bird, have you?'

'Piss poor,' Aiten said cheerfully. 'Still, it's amazing what people will tell you when they've just taken your money.'

'Come and find us at sunset.' Ryshad took my arm and we headed off for a leisurely lunch at a very expensive eating-house, courtesy of Darni's coin. We spent the rest of the afternoon sauntering round the town, idly shopping, taking in the sights and noting the way the Watch went about setting temptingly baited hooks and lines for anyone who might have something to tell them. Whoever ran this town clearly knew what they were doing.

The Chamber of Planir the Black, Hadrumal, 11th of Aft-Autumn, Noon

Kalion swept his parchments into a neat sheaf. 'So you see, Archmage, if we are to be faced with as many apprentices next season, the financial implications are clear.' He sat straight-backed in his chair with the air of man prepared to do battle for his position.

'Thank you for bringing this to me.' Planir smiled pleasantly at the Hearth-Master, leaning back in his own seat. 'In fact, I think we should audit all the Halls' accounts and see if this is a widespread problem. I suspect it will be, and then we can agree a common approach.'

The Archmage closed the various ledgers lying open on the glossy table-top and rose to replace them on their shelf below the narrow lancets of the tall window. 'We can put it to Council next meeting. Now, as long as you're happy with the apprentice rotations, I don't think I need detain you any longer. I am rather busy.' Planir looked expectantly at Kalion but the stout wizard remained determinedly seated.

'There is one other thing that I feel I must raise, Archmage.' Kalion's tone was stern, even faintly disapproving.

'Oh?' Planir reseated himself, narrow eyebrows raised a fraction in polite enquiry.

'I am concerned about the degree of familiarity you allow others to adopt towards you.' Kalion leaned forward in his chair and his jowls wobbled as he shook his head in emphasis. 'The way Otrick addresses you, and Usara for that matter, it is simply not fitting!'

Planir reached for the carafe that stood between them and poured himself a glass of water, turning it idly in a sunbeam as a sudden shaft of sunlight pierced the autumn clouds and washed the stone towers of Hadrumal with gold.

'Otrick is one of the oldest mages in Hadrumal as well as senior Cloud-Master, Kalion,' he said mildly. 'He was a Council member when you and I were both apprentices, if you recall; I hardly feel it would be appropriate for me to insist on deference to my rank from him. As for Usara, he was my first pupil. I consider him a friend as well as a colleague.'

Planir's air of amiable reason was clearly blunting the edge of Kalion's disapproval but the Hearth-Master persisted.

'Well, it's not just Otrick and Usara I'm talking about. I have been told you were seen at the Equinox dances in Wellery's Hall, taking the floor with any female apprentice who lacked a partner. It does not become the dignity of the office you hold, to take and allow such liberties.'

'To be frank, Hearth-Master, of late I am less concerned with the dignity of my office than I am with its effectiveness.' Planir fixed Kalion with a stern eye and a sharpened tone.

'The two are indivisible!' Kalion objected with some heat.

'I think not.' Planir sipped his water, one ringed hand raised to silence Kalion. 'You have been making an excellent case recently in Council for restoring wizardry to prominence in mainland affairs. As I recall, you said mages need to be more visible and less daunting. I agree, and I happen to think exactly the same can be said of the office of Archmage. If I am seen as approachable, to even the rawest apprentice, I can find out more in a day wandering round Hadrumal and chatting in tisane-houses and libraries than I can in a week reading requests and memoranda from the Halls. I need that information if I am to do the duty laid upon me by Council to best effect.'

'There is the question of respect—' Kalion began after a moment's indecision.

'I believe respect is something to be earned, Hearth-Master, not demanded as of right.' Planir cut him off crisply. 'Times are changing on the mainland, you've said it yourself, and our apprentices have grown up with those changes. We cannot expect them to suddenly step back three generations when they get off the boat. This isn't some Caladhrian fiefdom where I only need to wear a short mantle for everyone to take shears to their cloak.'

'Distinctions of rank are essential if you are to maintain authority.' Kalion shifted in his seat and fiddled unconsciously with the ring bearing his insignia.

'Remember that we only hold our ranks by consent of the majority, Kalion, unspoken though that may be. Anyway, have you ever seen me fail to assert my authority, either in Council or among the wider wizardry?'

Planir smiled. His enquiry was mild enough but Kalion coloured and struggled for a reply before dropping his gaze. The Archmage glanced out of the window at the roofs of the halls marching down to the harbour and a slight frown wrinkled his brow. He rose and folded his arms as he looked down at Kalion.

'You know what they say, a dog that barks once gets listened to, the one that barks all night gets whipped. I use my authority when I need to, have no fear, Kalion, but you know as well as I do that Archmages with a taste for tyranny simply find themselves bypassed and isolated.'

There was a polite tap at the door and Kalion turned his head, relief in his eyes.

'That will be Usara for a consultation on his researches.' Planir inclined his head in a brief bow. 'You must excuse us.'

'Of course, Archmage.' Kalion swept his documents into a handsomely tooled folder, rose and smoothed the front of his crimson tunic with an abrupt gesture.

'Hearth-Master.' Usara bowed politely as Planir opened the door to let Kalion leave.

'Do come in.' Planir turned back to the table, leaving Usara to latch the door behind him.

'I managed to see Shannet—' Usara began eagerly but Planir shook his head with a frown.

'In a moment, 'Sar. Tell me, do you know who's feeding Kalion gossip from Wellery's Hall these days?'

Usara shook his head. 'No, do you want me to ask around?'

Planir nodded. 'Discreetly, of course. Now, what did Shannet have to say?'

'First she tried to scry for Geris herself, and then with Otrick augmenting her spell. She had no more luck than we did.' Usara sighed.

'Curse it!' Planir's exasperation was plain. 'Does she want to try with me in the link, now I've finished with Kalion and his wretched arithmetic?' He shrugged off a formal gown and pulled a comfortable woollen jerkin over his shirt.

'No, she said we could enrol half the Council and it wouldn't make any difference. She thinks he's being shielded somehow.' Usara ran a hand through his thinning hair in a gesture of frustration.

'She's the expert; she should know. So we're looking at aetheric magic again,' Planir said, lips set thinly in a grim line.

'That does seem to be the problem,' Usara agreed.

'So where do we find a solution, 'Sar?' Planir demanded, turning to a bookcase and picking out various volumes.

'Otrick's gone to look in the Archives.' Usara took a heavy tome in green leather from the Archmage and set it on the table. 'Shannet said she'd come across something that felt just the same, once before.'

Planir paused, a book open in his hands. 'When?'

'Have you ever heard of a mage called Azazir?' Usara rummaged in the pockets of his ink-stained buff breeches and consulted a scribbled note.

'Yes,' Planir said slowly. 'Why?'

'Shannet said he claimed to have discovered some islands out in the deep ocean, hundreds of leagues to the east. Azazir's pupil, Viltred, was a friend of hers and they tried to scry for these islands, to prove the truth of what he was saying.' Usara looked up from his notes. 'She's certain the same shielding that's concealing Geris is what was hiding those islands from her and Viltred all those years ago.'

'Is she now?' Planir was about to continue when the door swung abruptly open and Otrick appeared, leaning against the jamb and breathing heavily, his face nearly as pale as his shirt.

'I think it's about time we started a fashion that had mages living at ground level instead of up all these unholy stairs!' The old wizard dropped heavily into a chair and fumbled in his cloak pocket for his chewing-leaf.

'Did you find the journal?' Usara handed Otrick a glass of water.

The old man nodded, speechless for a moment, and then took a slim volume out of the front of his jerkin. 'Here. Don't tell the Archivist it was me who lifted it.'

Planir took the book and began to leaf rapidly through the yellowed pages, squinting at the spidery writing.

'Now this is interesting, in light of Shiv's latest news.' The Archmage paused and looked at Usara. 'Listen to this: “The walls of the keep were patrolled by black-liveried sentries and it was apparent our host kept some considerable standing force. When I attempted to leave the confines of the fortification, my passage was barred without word of explanation or apology.'“ Planir turned the page. 'There's more: “The food was barely adequate and we were made uncomfortable by the persistent stares and muttering coming from the lower tables. I can only assume our dark colouring was cause for such comment, the populace here being universally fair of hair and skin.”'

'I told Shannet that Geris was supposedly taken by blond men and that's what made her think of Viltred and Azazir's tales.' Usara nodded.

'So this is where these people are coming from?' Otrick's eyes were bright now and his colour improved. 'Some islands off the edge of the map? They'll need magic to cross the ocean, you know.'

'It's starting to look as if they have it; remember what that Tormalin sworn-man was telling Shiv,' Planir said thoughtfully. 'I think we'd better see what we can find out about these islands and these people. Shiv and Darni are best placed to follow this up, it would seem.'

'What about Geris?' Usara looked up from the book he was searching through.

Planir continued to turn the pages of the old journal. 'We may simply have to accept that Geris is lost,' he said finally. 'Aetheric magic is no longer just some ancient curiosity, not if an unknown people can use it to cross the ocean and work enchantments we can neither detect or counter, not if they're sending agents to rob and kill, for whatever reasons they might have. There's more at stake here than one boy scholar from Vanam. Think about Naldeth's latest theory, those Imperial chronicles he's been researching.'

'Shiv won't want to abandon Geris,' Otrick warned, a scowl deepening his wrinkles still further. 'I wouldn't, in his place.'

Planir shrugged. 'Who says they're abandoning the boy? Surely these mysterious islands will be the best place to look for a lead?'

'You don't really believe that?' Usara's tone was dubious.

'What I believe is immaterial, provided I can convince Shiv.' Planir snapped the little volume shut. 'If Azazir found these islands once, Shiv has the talents to do it again once Azazir tells him what he knows.'

'And how exactly is that to be achieved,' Otrick asked sarcastically, 'given no one's heard tell of Azazir in over a generation?'

'I beg leave to differ, Cloud-Master.' A half-smile lightened Planir's sombre expression. 'I have been keeping a weather-eye on the old lunatic ever since I took the Archmage's ring; I can send Shiv to him.'

'What if Azazir won't co-operate? You know his reputation.' Usara paused, a finger marking his place on the vellum.

'We'll bridle that horse when we have to.' Planir laughed abruptly. 'I'll exert some authority, if need be. That'll give Kalion something to think about.'

Inglis, 11th of Aft-Autumn, Evening

By the time the sun was setting, I knew the streets and back alleys of Inglis about as well as I knew Vanam. That could be useful if I ever came across a job where the profits outweighed the risks of working here but we'd turned up not a trace of Geris, nor the mysterious troop that had taken him. As we walked wearily back to the inn and started up the stairs, we could hear Darni and Shiv having a difference of opinion from the end of the hall. I hurried to the parlour and slammed the door open.

'Do you want everyone in this place to hear you? I've heard quieter dog fights!'

They were standing across the table glaring at each other. They turned to glare at me but at least I had shut them up.

'What's going on?' I demanded.

'We've got instructions from the Archmage.' Shiv was white with anger.

'I don't agree with them,' Darni began, red in the face and breathing hard.

'You don't have to agree, you're supposed to obey,' Shiv snapped. I wouldn't have believed he could sound so cold.

'So what are we supposed to do?' I sat down and poured wine for us all. Darni and Shiv sat down after a few moments of tension, each reluctant to be the first.

'Planir wants us to go on some hunt for a mad old wizard who's probably dead in a ditch anyway,' Darni said with disgust.

'Shiv?'

'Planir told me that he has heard tales of a race of yellow-haired people. There's this wizard, Azazir, who claimed to have crossed the ocean to an unknown land a couple of generations or so ago. That's where they're supposed to live.'

'That's a bit vague, Shiv,' I said doubtfully.

'There's more to it than that. Planir has confidential Imperial records from the reign of Nemith the Reckless. They mention a blond race too and, as far as Planir can work it out, these foreigners used magic to bring down the Empire. They have powers we don't know about.'

I shivered despite the warmth of the room.

'The Tormalin Empire fell because it grew too big to control. It was logistics, not magic, everyone knows that.' Darni stood again and loomed aggressively over the table towards Shiv.

'So what does Planir want you to do?' Ryshad earned a grateful look from Shiv.

'If we can find Azazir, he can tell us where these people come from. If we can get there, we should be able to find out who they are and what they want.'

'That's a lot of if and perhaps,' I said doubtfully. 'What about Geris? We've found some leads we should follow up here, haven't we, Ryshad?'

He nodded slowly. 'That's true enough, but I've had better leads in other places and they came to nothing. If this wizard could point us at them, we might do better to go straight for whoever's giving the orders.'

'Azazir couldn't point at his own nose without sticking a finger in his eye.' Darni was nearly shouting. 'You've heard the same stories I have, Shiv. He's a mad old bastard who should have been executed the last time he fell foul of the Council. Anyway, no one's heard so much as a whisper of him for years. He'll be rotting in the wilderness somewhere, and good riddance.'

Ryshad and I exchanged uncertain glances. Wizards being executed by the Archmage and the Council? That was not something I'd ever heard tell of.

'So how are you supposed to find him?' Darni challenged Shiv.

'Planir's identified an area where the elements are distorted; a lot of water's been concentrated in a way that can only mean magic. And it's in the region of Gidesta where Azazir was last heard of. I'm a water mage; once we get close, I should be able to follow his influence back to the source.'

That sounded thin, even to my ignorant ear.

'There's no guarantee of that, and anyway, you might just find some long-terms spells and his bones. All right, suppose he is still alive. Why's he going to talk to you? You're going to tell him you're working for Planir, are you? “Please help me because I'm working for the Archmage who threatened to bury you if you came within ten leagues of a village again?”' Darni was back to the top of his voice again.

'What about Geris, Shiv?' I asked, increasingly worried by this turn of events. 'They've got a day's start on us as it is and, if we go off somewhere, the trail will be stone cold by the time we get back.'

'Planir has scryed for Geris himself and used half the Council to augment the spell. If they can't find him, he's not going to be found.' Shiv's face reflected his distress.

'So our best bet is to go for the man who's giving the orders,' Ryshad said calmly. 'Find him and we've got the best chance of finding your friend.'

'Who asked you?' Darni did not look away from Shiv. 'You can't do this, Shiv. We've got to start looking for Geris now and here!'

'I can't disobey the Archmage and neither will you if you've got any sense.' Shiv only controlled his temper with a visible effort. 'I'm setting off at first light. Ryshad, the Archmage would very much appreciate it if you joined us. Livak, your obligation is cancelled but if you want to come, I'd like to have you with us.'

'I need her to help me find Geris,' Darni shouted.

Shiv opened his mouth and then shut it again, stalking out of the room and slamming the door behind him to relieve his feelings.

'I haven't finished talking!' Darni stormed after him and I thought the door was going to come out of its frame when he sent it crashing back.

'Darni's idea of a discussion is to say what he thinks more and more loudly until everyone else gives up,' I explained to Ryshad as I poured more wine.

'I've met his type before.' Ryshad seemed unbothered. 'So what are you going to do?'

'What about you?'

'Aiten and I'll go with Shiv, no question. This may be a weak scent, but it's the best we've had in nearly two seasons.'

'You don't think we might get a lead to Geris? I hate to give up on him like this.'

'If there's information to be had, the Watch will get it. They've got five of the most important men in the city breathing down their necks over Yeniya, don't forget. If this troop can be found, the Watch will do it just as fast as we would and find Geris themselves.'

'You don't sound convinced.'

'I'm not,' Ryshad said frankly. 'I was starting to wonder if they were using magic long before this. Come on, Livak, you've been around the provinces; Geris could already be dead. If he isn't, it's because they want something out of him, in which case they're most likely to take him back to their leader. Use your wits.'

I sighed. Every emotion and loyalty told me to join Darni in turning the city upside-down until we found Geris, but sense told me Shiv and Ryshad were right. When it came to a hard choice, I realised I trusted Shiv more than Darni, wizard or not.

'I suppose I'd better come with you then,' I said unhappily.

'I'm glad.' Ryshad stood and laid a quick comforting arm across my shoulder. 'I'll see you later. I've got to let Ait know what we're doing and see to a few other things.'

I watched him go and then relieved my feelings by throwing the cups across the room. Why should Shiv and Darni be the only ones allowed to lose their tempers?

I spent the rest of the day busily trying to pick up any trace of Geris' trail around the inn. I achieved absolutely nothing. I finally went to spend a lonely night in my cold bed, miserably going over and over my choices until I fell asleep, exhausted.

We left in the damp chill of the autumn morning. Darni was nowhere to be seen and as Shiv and I saddled up with few words, I realised Geris' horses were gone.

'Where are the bays?' I looked wildly round the stables.

'Darni's making arrangements for them. If necessary, he'll hire a groom to take them back to Vanam,' Shiv said shortly. His expression forbade further discussion, so I turned back to adjusting Russet's girth. I was absurdly relieved that I was not going to have to make a spectacle of myself by insisting Geris' beloved horses were taken care of, but at the same time, I felt angry with Darni for taking the matter out of my hands.

The Licorne Inn, Inglis, 15th of Aft-Autumn

Now this is more like it.' Casuel drew off his gloves and looked round the neat sitting-room with pleasure. Opening the casement, he drew a deep breath of salted air and smiled as he gazed over the regular lines of the roofs and houses. The fifth chime of the day was just fading away.

'It is good to be back east again. This white stone reminds me of home, you know.' He turned to smile at Allin, but frowned instead. She was standing dolefully in the doorway, sniffing into a grubby handkerchief.

'Why did we have to come here?' she whined. 'I want to go to Hadrumal. I didn't expect to be dragged all through Lescar in a filthy coach. Why couldn't you have taken me to my uncle's house? We passed through the next village to home, things looked peaceful enough. There won't be any more fighting until the spring, now. I don't even know if I want to be a mage any more.'

'That's not a matter of choice,' Casuel said tartly. He was getting tired of this conversation. 'We will be going to Hadrumal soon enough.'

With any luck, he thought to himself, then I can finally get you off my hands. 'I can't be expected to waste time fetching you from some muddy backwater in Lescar. What if I were summoned today?'

Allin began to grizzle into her handkerchief.

'Why don't you go and have a rest,' Casuel suggested in desperation. 'I'll get a maid to fetch you a nice tisane for that cold.'

Allin heaved a moist sigh and took herself off into the adjoining bedchamber. Casuel heaved a sigh of relief; he quickly set up candle and mirror and bespoke Usara.

''Are you in Inglis yet? the sandy-haired wizard demanded without preamble as he sent power back down the spell to establish the connection.

'Of course.' Casuel was indignant. 'Though why we had to come all this way, I really don't understand—'

''Trust me, Casuel, if I'd had any other choice, I wouldn't have sent you,' Usara said crisply.

Casuel supposed that was something like an apology. 'All right then, what is it that you want me to do?'

He saw the image of Usara rubbing his eyes and yawning. Why was he so tired? Noon here made it mid-morning in Hadrumal, didn't it? Casuel hoped Usara hadn't taken to carousing with the likes of Otrick.

Usara snapped his fingers over a cup and took a sip once it started steaming, wincing slightly. ' There's been a murder in the city, a prominent merchant, a woman called Yeniya. I want you to contact some of the local mages and find out the latest news. Be discreet, for Saedrin's sake, things will be very sensitive at the moment?

Casuel frowned. 'Forgive me, but surely there are scrying techniques you could use—

''Don't you think we've tried?'' Usara cut him off, exasperated. lNo, it's eyes in the alley that we need now. You 'II have to do the best you can, and use some cursed tact for a change?

'Don't you have enquiry agents to do this sort of thing?' Casuel asked. 'This is rather beneath a wizard's dignity, don't you think?' he added distastefully.

The glow of the enchantment flashed briefly golden. ''How about you stop arguing and just do it, Casuel? Usara's tone hardened. 'I think you owe me a little co-operation after that fiasco in Friern, don't you? I suppose I could clear it with Planir first, if you'd rather?'

Casuel hoped the amber tint of the spell hid his sudden blush. 'I'm sorry. Of course we wizards should assist one another. I'll be happy to.'

The spell flickered and Casuel missed the first words of Usara's reply. ''And another thing,' the Earth-Mage went on,

''we are looking for a group, possibly two groups, of yellow-haired men, a handful or so in each, less than average height and from nowhere in the Old Empire. Now, just ask among the mages, don't draw attention to yourself and above all be discreet. I mean it, Casuel; you don't want these people after your tail.'

'Well, if this is likely to be a little dangerous, perhaps I can find a mage here to look after Allin until she can be escorted to Hadrumal?' Casuel could not disguise the hope in his voice.

''Not appropriate, given the circumstances,' Usara said cryptically. 'Anyway, you found her, you're responsible for her; you know the rules. Now, get on with it and bespeak me tomorrow; after I've had some breakfast for preference.'

Usara severed the magic with an abruptness that left Casuel's hands stinging. He stared at the blank mirror in annoyance for a moment then rummaged in his bag for writing materials. He couldn't very well go trailing round the city, cap in hand, asking to see wizards he'd not been introduced to. After all, he couldn't leave Allin unchaperoned.

'Who are you writing to?'

He turned to see Allin standing in the doorway, dishevelled and miserable. 'Is my tisane coming?' she asked petulantly.

Casuel bit his lip and crossed to ring the bell. 'The maids here do seem to take their time answering.' He sat down and hesitated, pen poised over a scrap of parchment.

'Who are you writing to?' Allin blew her nose.

'I require information from one of the town mages.' Casuel cleaned his nib thoughtfully.

'Wizards live here as well as in Hadrumal?' Allin looked puzzled and Casuel had to remind himself that any sensible mage stayed well clear of the dangerous currents of the Lescari wars. Still, he didn't want her ignorance to reflect on him once she was apprenticed.

'Wizards who can hope to add to the sum of magical knowledge remain in Hadrumal after training,' he explained loftily. 'Those whose talents are more for the workaday, less elevated aspects of enchanting generally return to the mainland and find work. Those of us at the higher levels generally know someone in most cities.'

He frowned. Who did he know in Inglis who'd be likely to want to help him? There were times when it would be useful to have that knack of ingratiating himself with people that Shivvalan used to such advantage. There was Carral, wasn't there? He'd come here to do something involving the river, or was it gemstones? No matter, it can't have been anything important. Casuel wrote rapidly, touched a ringer to a stick of sealing-wax and sealed the parchment with his signet.

'Yes?' The door opened and a maid stuck her head into the room.

'Please have a boy deliver this letter.' Casuel rummaged in his pocket for coin.

'Of course, sir.'

'Can I have a tisane, please?' Allin spoke up as the maid went to leave. 'Something for a nasty cold, if you have it?'

The maid looked at her with some sympathy. 'Of course, I'll bring it up at once. You get yourself to bed, pet, you don't want a rheum like that taking to your chest.'

She returned shortly with a fragrant mug and another, older woman. They settled Allin with the drink and a kerchief sprinkled with aromatic oils, all involving what seemed an inordinate amount of fuss as far as Casuel could see. Finally he was left in peace and spread his books over the sitting-room table. He began to read, eager to glean any clue which might explain what Usara was up to. What could possibly be significant about the fall of the Empire? Scholars had been poring over every detail for generations, hadn't they? Occasional sounds drifted up from the street, hooves and steps on the cobbles, shouts and laughter, but Casuel ignored them as he worked steadily on through the afternoon, methodically correlating and cross-referencing.

The door crashed open, hinges splintering the frame as two enormous men with ragged hair and unkempt beards kicked it back against the wall. They stormed in and seized Casuel, slamming him against the wall, their fetid breath moist in his face as they held him pinned. He struggled for words and air, lost for both, panic seizing him as his feet left the floor although he was still left looking up into the wild, ragged faces of his assailants. A surge of dread obliterated every enchantment he'd ever learned from his memory and a feeble gleam died in his fingers.

A second pair of dark-haired ruffians entered, rough leathers stained with old blood and rankly uncured fur jerkins suggesting they were trappers fresh off a river boat. They stood, incongruous, either side of a tall young man whose elegant velvet apparel was sadly creased and stained, expensive fabrics beyond salvage. His face was unshaven and pale, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. Casuel looked at him in dismay, complete confusion hampering any sensible response.

'You, hold the door!' The young man turned to his last hireling. 'Check that room, make sure he's alone.'

He walked slowly round the table and came to stare into Casuel's eyes. His gaze was wide and full of anger, the red-flecked whites of his eyes visible all around the blue.

'Just who are you, you little shit, and what is your interest in Yeniya's death?'

'I don't know what you mean!' Casuel gasped as the men holding him slammed him down against the wall again. He struggled to regain his footing.

The irate man brandished a parchment. 'Don't come the virgin with me! Carral know who cures his bacon, he sent your little note straight to me.'

He gripped Casuel's jaw and forced his head back. 'So, talk to me.' His voice was hoarse and Casuel realised with terror that this was a man whose rioting emotions had evidently driven him beyond the reach of reason.

'Please don't hurt me!' Allin's voice was a desperate squeak of fear.

Casuel had been about to say the very same thing when she emerged from the bedroom in the grip of one of the brutes, bare feet barely touching the floor beneath the hem of her stout shift.

'There's no one else, Evern. Just this little pigeon. Plump enough, ain't she?' He flung Allin down on a chair and she shrank away from the man's leer, his teeth stained and yellow against his dirty brown beard.

'Are you the Watch?' Casuel stammered.

'You'll wish we were soon enough!' The man called Evern laughed harshly. 'No, just call us concerned citizens. You see, Yeniya was a friend of mine.'

His voice cracked and he scrubbed a hand across his eyes. 'Some bastard murdered her and I'm going to kill anyone I can find who had something to do with it!'

'It's nothing to do with me!' Casuel tried to shake his head and got a smack across the mouth for his trouble.

'Then why are you asking questions about it, arse-face? Why are you so interested in finding out what scents the Watch are tracking?'

Casuel gaped, lost for words. Evern nodded to the trapper on his left who promptly punched an iron-hard fist into Casuel's gut. Crying out in agonised amazement that something could hurt so much, he would have doubled up but the men held him firm against the wall. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, desperately trying to ease the pain.

'Why are you asking questions? Worried the Watch might be on your trail, are you? That's how it reads to me.' The young man took a pair of slim gloves from his belt and drew them on with elaborate care.

Casuel blinked tears from his own eyes. 'I'm simply trying to find out what happened.'

Evern punched him abruptly, hard in the mouth. 'Why?' he screamed, incensed.

A trickle of blood tickled down Casuel's chin. He winced as he licked at the split in his lip and fought to control a whimper as Evern stood before him, slapping a cupped hand around his fist, heedless of the blood smearing the fine leather. The sound of running feet in the corridor echoed in the tense silence and Casuel looked desperately at the door.

'You're a Tormalin, aren't you?' Evern said thoughtfully. 'There've been a couple of Tormalins asking around, but they seem to have disappeared. Who are they?'

'I really have no idea!' Casuel said desperately. 'I don't even know who you are talking about.'

'You're going to have to do better than this, shit-for-brains,'

Evern spat, his face ugly with frustration. 'I want to know what they had to do with it; why else would they disappear?'

He punched Casuel violently under the ribs, leaving him gasping and retching.

Allin broke into noisy sobs of fear, suddenly silenced when she realised that made her the centre of attention.

Evern turned to look at her, contempt plain on his drawn face. 'What have you got to tell me, then?' He twisted a hand in Allin's forlorn ringlets and wrenched her head back.

'What do you know?' He bent his face close to hers and scowled.

'Nothing,' she whimpered, clutching her hands to her breast.

Evern straightened and looked down on her with disdain. 'So you're just here to warm his sheets, are you?'

He turned abruptly back to Casuel, who flinched as far as he was able. His arms were starting to go numb below the grip of the trappers and his jaw ached fiercely.

'She's a bit young for plucking, isn't she?' Evern sneered. 'But you look as if you'd be desperate for it. So, why not share her around? Let's see what she knows that way!'

'Leave her alone, you swine!' Casuel struggled futilely, jumbled thoughts anguished. What would Usara do to him if the silly poult got herself raped! 'She's got nothing to do with any of this.'

Evern pushed his face close and Casuel could smell the expensive scents beneath his rank sweat. 'Convince me!' he snarled in a low tone.

Casuel closed his eyes and mentally cursed the day he'd left Hadrumal. 'I am a wizard, you know.' He groped for some dignity and missed, his voice emerging as little more than a desperate squeak.

'So what?' Evern stood back a little, his face hard. 'Am I supposed to be impressed or something? Wizards do what they're paid to do, in my experience. Going to turn me into a toad, are you?'

He drew a thin dagger and laid the gleaming steel against Casuel's throat. 'They're saying whoever killed Yeniya used magic to get away. Why don't I kill you anyway, on the off-chance you were involved?'

He pressed harder and turned the edge of the blade into Casuel's skin. Casuel began to shake as a burning line of pain crawled down his neck.

'I swear, I had nothing to do with it,' he croaked. 'I'm sorry for your loss.'

Evern closed his eyes on unbearable anguish and a tear beaded his lashes. He turned away with a gesture and the trappers began to beat Casuel with systematic brutality that spoke of considerable experience.

He tried to curl himself around his guts and groin, dimly aware of Allin wailing as his world shrank to a nightmare of pain beyond anything he had ever imagined he might experience.

'I don't think he knows anything, chief. Mel, shut that bitch up or give her something to really cry about.'

Casuel heard the trapper's words through the ringing in his ears after what seemed an eternity.

'He's not the type to hold out, not after a good kicking.'

Tears of relief joined the slime and blood on Casuel's cheeks. He lay still, tense, not daring to move but cautiously opened his eyes. There was a slight sound outside the room and they all turned their heads towards it.

The trapper on the door grunted as the handle rattled, but as he shifted his feet he got the white-painted panels in the face, sending him sprawling to the floor. Before he could regain his feet, a heavy-set man with a dark beard entered and kicked him swiftly in the groin. Sword drawn, he swept his blade round in a menacing arc and glared at Evern.

'Call off your dogs, or I'll have to kill them.'

'Darni!' Casuel tried to get up, halting on his knees as agonising pain lanced through his chest.

'Bet you never thought you'd be so glad to see me, Cas.' Darni smiled wickedly.

Evern took a step back from Darni's sword point, hands low and wide. 'Who the shit are you?' he spat in baffled rage.

Darni sketched a bow. 'Someone telling you that you're making a big mistake here. It's lucky for you that Carral had the sense to let me know about that letter. This sorry pot of piss had nothing to do with Yeniya's death.'

'And how do you know that?' Evern's dagger began to rise.

'Why don't you drop that rat-sticker?' Darni's voice was cold as ice. 'Kick it over here.'

Evern hesitated but then obeyed and Casuel began to breathe again in shallow gasps.

'I know he had nothing to do with her death, because he's working for the same master as me.' Darni looked around at the trappers. 'Why don't you all sit down and we can discuss this sensibly. That's what I would prefer and I am the one with the broadsword, when all's said and done.'

Evern's lips narrowed and a furious growl of frustration escaped him but he finally nodded. 'All right.'

The trappers moved to help their colleague still groaning on the floor as he clutched himself, face grey under his dirt. They moved to stand in a row by the window, leaving Evern between themselves and Darni.

'So, who do you work for?' Evern folded his arms and looked arrogantly at Darni.

'The Council of Mages, of course.' Darni sounded surprised that the man needed to ask. 'Planir is most concerned over the possibility of magic being used in such an appalling crime.'

'He's an Archmage's agent?' Evern stared down at Casuel with patent disbelief.

'No, but I am. Get up, Cas.' Darni drew a thong from the neck of his shirt and Evern looked open-mouthed at the bronze ring on it.

'Show me that,' he demanded. Darni drew the string over his head, tossing it over.

'How do I know this is real?' he asked, flinging it back after a moment.

Darni shook his head, snatching the ring out of the air. 'Do you think someone's going to risk faking that? People don't cross Planir, believe me.'

He looked at Casuel, who had struggled to a chair, still hugging his aching ribs. 'I don't know what he's going to think of this,' he said contemplatively. 'You've made a right mess of poor old Cas, haven't you?'

'I had my reasons,' Evern spat. 'No wizard's going to tell me how to do things in my own city, Archmage or not. I had reason to think this waste of skin was mixed up in this and I'm entitled to find out. Magic helped kill Yeniya and if any mage was involved, we'll drive the whole sorry mess of them into the ocean. What's your precious Archmage going to do if we close the city to you bastards? The guilds don't need you, we run this city and that's the way it'll stay.'

Darni simply shook his head again. 'Don't make pointless threats. You're the ones who'll lose in the long run if you force out the wizards.'

He smiled at Evern, an expression Casuel found the most frightening thing he'd seen so far.

'Anyway, if Planir finds out a mage was involved in this, that sorry bastard won't be able to hide at the bottom of the ocean, inside an ice-field on the Dragon's Spines, or underneath an Aldabreshi fire-mountain. Slow drowning in a bucket of his own shit would be a better fate than the one the Council will put together for him. Isn't that right, Cas?'

Casuel gagged at Darni's disgusting image and nodded mutely.

Evern raised his hands, the gesture cut short as Darni's sword swung up to block it.

'So who killed Yeniya? How do I find the pox-rotted bastards? What's your cursed Archmage doing to avenge her?'

'That's not your concern,' Darni said coldly. 'However, you might like to consider helping me. I'm after some men who I know were involved and I'd say we've got a good chance of catching them.'

'They killed her?'

'No, but they can lead us to the ones who did.' Darni swapped his sword to his other hand and reached out to Evern.

'My word on it. Help me get them and we'll say no more about your little mistake here. Shut up, Cas,' he added as the mage opened his battered mouth to protest.

'So, are we going to co-operate on this, or do I have to organise a little pay-back for my friend here?' Darni glared at the trappers, who exchanged doubtful glances.

Evern stood, hope warring with grief in his face. The silence was broken by a loud thud as Allin fainted and slid gracelessly into a heap on the floor.

'Drianon's tits,' Darni said in exasperation. 'Just who is this, Cas? Whatever you're paying her, it's not enough!'

The tension in the air snapped and Evern lowered his head, blinking away confused tears. 'All right. But you'd better be right about this,' he warned.

'Trust me,' Darni said grimly. 'I want these people as badly as you do.'

Casuel looked up at him and was appalled to realise this was absolutely true. He started to think he could almost feel sorry for these people whenever Darni caught up with them, but the thought evaporated in the mass of aches and pains growing in every part of him.

The Gidesta Road out of Inglis, 15th of Aft-Autumn

Travelling on horseback and camping in the open was soon going to lose its charm as a winter pastime, I decided sourly. I'd take up quilting instead. I poked Russet in the ribs to make him loose the breath he was holding as I saddled him; he wasn't going to catch me like that twice in one day. Some chance I was going to have to forget Geris, riding the horse we'd named together, I thought gloomily.

Luckily, before my mood descended further into dejection, Ryshad and Aiten rode up on their scruffy chestnut horses that looked as if they came straight off the Gidestan steppes.

'So where are we headed this afternoon?' Ryshad swung his mount round to ride with Shiv.

'We need to cross the river and take the northern road.' Shiv kicked his horse harder than was strictly necessary and Ryshad let him go ahead.

We were well on before the sun began to sink. I glanced back over my shoulder to see dusk climbing over the gleaming sea before the hills finally hid the ocean. We let Shiv lead, as he clearly wanted to be on his own. As Aiten regaled Ryshad with a few rather dubious stories, I realised he'd been doing his scouting in all the low parts of town; I'd heard those tales before but only in a brothel. Don't misunderstand me; a lot of whorehouses offer gambling as an additional way of separating fools from their money and I'd spent an interesting three seasons a few years back helping a couple of houses bend the odds in their favour. It had been an illuminating experience which had certainly cured me of any romantic notions about a prostitute's life but it hadn't been much of a challenge; none of the men had been giving the game anything like their full attention.

I listened idly as Aiten was bringing Ryshad up to date with the latest witticisms doing the rounds of the bear pits; Ryshad was laughing and groaning in the appropriate places but his attention remained on the road ahead and the woods around us. Aiten did not seem to find this unusual and carried on with his tales; he had yet to come up with one I had not already heard. Inglis was the town where old jokes came to die. I trailed along behind with the mule carrying our supplies and came to the conclusion that it was probably the most cheerful one of us.

Shiv paused to stick his hands in the river and stare thoughtfully at the tributary we had reached.

'We'll follow this.' His tone was the mildest I'd heard it since we'd lost Geris and I moved up to ride next to him, relieved to see his good humour resurfacing.

'We're following the rivers? Is Azazir a water mage then?'

'Didn't I say? Yes, one of the best.' Shiv gave me a half smile.

'So how did he…' I couldn't quite decide how to phrase the question that had been hovering at the back of my mind all day.

'How did he fall foul of the Council?' Shiv moved across the muddy track and we rode on the somewhat drier grass. I let him take his time in deciding what to tell me. When he eventually answered, he spoke slowly and thoughtfully.

'You have to understand that, for a mage like Azazir, his element is the most important thing in the world. He's fascinated by water, by its effects on things, how it makes up part of things, what he can do to affect it. Many of the really powerful wizards are like that.'

'Is he powerful? Is he dangerous, come to that?' I asked a little nervously.

'He's very powerful but I don't suppose he's dangerous unless you get in the way of something he's taken an interest in.'

I'd have preferred a little more certainty, myself. 'So, what was Darni saying about him being executed?'

Shiv frowned. 'Azazir was always a loner. He went off and did peculiar things like this supposed trip across the ocean. The Seaward Hall is full of tales about him and it's hard to know what is really true. He used to exaggerate half the time and tell outright lies for the rest if you believe some of the Council. What finally got him banished was the flooding of half of Adrulle.'

'What?' Ryshad exclaimed. I turned in my saddle and saw he and Aiten were listening with as much interest as myself. Aiten laughed and Shiv smiled at him. 'It wasn't funny at the time; it was For-Summer and he drowned a sizeable part of the southern Caladhrian harvest. The price of bread doubled that winter and there were riots in some of the towns.' 'Why did he do it?' I asked.

'He wanted a marsh to study,' Shiv said simply. 'So he diverted most of the Rel into the nearest low-lying area.'

'How low did the river get?' No wonder this wizard was such a menace. The depth and width of the Rel is all that keeps the endless bloody squabbles of Lescar from spilling over into the bland stability of Caladhria.

'Low enough for the Duke of Marlier to send over raiding parties,' Shiv replied.

'What about Relshaz?' Ryshad was looking as stunned as I felt.

'The Magistrates' Convention raised a militia as soon as it became clear the river was falling. They were the first to demand Azazir be executed.'

That was no surprise; the Relshazri take their independence and security very seriously, given their position on the delta between Caladhria and Lescar. Since that depends on the river, any proposal, never mind attempt, to build a permanent bridge carries the death penalty. Not surprisingly, no one ever makes one. Apart from that, it's an easy-going city with plenty of opportunities for someone like me. I was gripped with a sudden longing for warm southern sun and cool southern wines and missed Ryshad's next question.

'No. The Council won't take orders from any other power.' Shiv looked serious. 'Actually, if the Relshazri hadn't made such a fuss, Azazir might well have been executed. As it was, the Archmage wasn't going to do anything that suggested he was giving in to them so Azazir was exiled up here.'

I was still having trouble with the idea of wizards killing each other.

'They really thought about executing him?'

Shiv looked at me, his expression serious. 'The trouble he caused cost many lives, much coin and three seasons' work to clear up. That sort of thing causes wizards to be seriously disliked. We are very powerful, and that can frighten people, so we do our best not to let them see it. When someone like Azazir goes around doing what he wants with no thought for the consequences, people worry. If the Council lets the like of him get away with it, we're heading down the road leading to mageborn children left to die of fevers and wizards stoned out of villages. The Council controls wizards so that no one else has an excuse to do it.'

'Otrick on “Why don't wizards rule the world?'“ I murmured to myself.

Shiv heard me and grinned again. 'Most of them could not be bothered. It would be a distraction from the really important business of studying their element. Still, a few have decided to try every now and again, and the Council has dealt with them too.'

We reached another place where streams joined the river and Shiv dismounted to dip his hands in again. I couldn't decide if I was sorry that he had been interrupted or not. Some of these ideas were seriously scary.

A well-beaten track ran along the river bank; with the hills getting steeper and more wooded, it was the natural way to go. We made good progress and hit a mining settlement a few days north of the Dalas. It was quite sizeable for a hill town and possessed an unusual air of permanence, with a stone-built forge and an inn that looked as if it might even offer more than whores and spirits raw enough to make your teeth dissolve.

Shiv led us into what I suppose you would call the market square, though no one looked to be selling anything. Men and women in rough working clothes gave us a faintly curious appraisal. Shiv sat tall in his saddle and stared round arrogantly. I stared back and realised that the bastard was suddenly spotlessly clean, unlike the travel-stained rest of us. Good spell if you can do it, I acknowledged silently.

'I am a wizard of the Archmage's Council and I am looking for news.'

Aiten and Ryshad drew up their horse in a line with mine, shrugged their cloaks aside from their sword arms and rested negligent hands on their blades. The three of us exchanged a glance and waited for the muddy locals to laugh, jeer or throw horseshit depending on their inclination. None of this happened, which surprised me; I'd like to see a wizard try that trick in Vanam.

'What sort of news?' The smith walked forward from his hearth, wiping his hands on a rag. He was formidably muscled and his face and hands were pitted with tiny scars but his voice was calm and assured. I started to think we might get some useful information after all.

'I am seeking an old mage called Azazir; he dwelt north of here some years ago.' Shiv raised his hands and wove a spinning web of blue fire in the centre of the square. The gleaming strands curved around shimmering panels of air, tossing fleeting reflections around the circle. The lines suddenly thinned and flashed into nothingness, leaving an image hanging in the air above the well. About half true size, I saw a scrawny figure in a long green cloak over a mossy robe. Azazir had thinnish grey hair cut off in a straight line at his shoulders and a stoop which brought his narrow face questing forward like a heron, a likeness heightened by his prominent nose. His eyes shone green and, as we watched, the image swept round in a circle, hands spread and skirts flaring, for all the world as if it could see the stunned diggers staring back at it.

I managed to catch my jaw before it dropped too far and I did my best to copy the unimpressed cool of Ryshad and Aiten's poses. I nearly lost it when Ryshad winked at me, but the inhabitants were still so staggered I could have reached down their throats and stolen their guts without them noticing.

'So,' Shiv's voice cut through the silence like a whip,'does anyone here know of him?'

The crowd shuffled and muttered and a reluctant old woman was pushed forward from the back.

'Can you help me?' Shiv leaned down to her, voice smooth as silk and just as enticing.

The grubby old hag stared back like a rabbit in front of a weasel and then shook herself to what I'd bet was a more usual truculence.

'He did used to come down for flour and the like ten years back,' she snapped.

Shiv gave her a smile, blending gratitude with condescension, and, more crucially as far as she was concerned, slipped her some coin.

The gleam of gold they would not have to dig out of the rocks themselves suddenly loosened tongues all around us.

'He was living up beyond the oak stands, where the beeches come down to the river.'

'That was in my father's time. He had a hut by the trout pools last I heard.'

'He'd gone further than that, idiot. He was living by the lake when Emmer caught that big fish, you know, the one with the green scales.'

'It was Summer Solstice three years back he was last here. I remember it was just before Nalli was born and we'd had that swarm of bees in the thatch.'

'He was older though, he'd lost most of that hair and walked with a stick.'

'My uncles said they'd met him up past the snowline, winter before last. They knew he must be a wizard because he was only wearing a tunic and that was one they'd not give a dog to sleep on. Anyone normal would have been iced solid.'

'Reckon he's probably dead by now.'

Shiv held up a commanding hand and the babble fell silent. 'Has anyone seen him since the spring of last year?'

The crowd, which seemed to have doubled since we arrived, shuffled their feet and looked at each other but no one spoke up.

Shiv bowed from his saddle and then gazed imperiously around. 'I thank you on the Archmage's behalf. Is there any service I can do you by way of payment?'

If I'd thought they were stunned before, now they were completely poleaxed. The sounds of the rushing river chattered through the silence. Just when I was about to kick Russet on and take us out of there, a voice piped up from the back.

'Can you tell us where the silver lode is headed?' The opportunist was quickly hushed but Shiv smiled and I could see laughter bubbling behind his lordly manner.

'Look for a crag shaped like a bear with rowans above and below.' Shiv distributed a handful of Tormalin Marks and then moved off, Aiten and Ryshad kicking their horses to tuck in behind him like an Imperial escort. That left me holding the mule so I turned to a nearby peasant and adopted Shiv's lordly tones.

'We would be grateful for bread, any fruit you can spare and flour if you have it.'

Several people scurried off and returned with baskets and sacks. I'm sure the mule looked at me reproachfully but I was too pleased at the prospect of fresh bread again to care.

The mule decided to co-operate and I was able to ride out of the little town in fine style. Shiv must have been the biggest thing to hit that place since the last mudslide.

Aiten was waiting for me when I reached a bend in the track above a fine deep pool in the river.

'Didn't want to lose you, flower.' He grinned when he saw the mule's acquisitions. 'Good thinking. Something nice for dinner?'

'Where are Shiv and Ryshad?' He'd better not think the only woman was automatically the cook. I wondered whether to tell him straight or just let him find out by tasting my efforts; even Darni had done better on our trip through Dalasor.

'Shiv's washing his hands again.' Aiten helped me coax the mule over a slippery patch and we headed towards a flurry of rapids showing white through the trees.

'You've spent time up here, haven't you?' I followed Aiten's lead and dismounted to lead Russet over a bank ribbed with exposed tree roots.

'That's right, three seasons in the gold camps, west of the Celiare. How can you tell?'

I smiled thinly. 'If you see me playing the two-Mark thrice-a-night again, then you can call me “flower”. Other than that, my name's Livak, all right?'

Aiten waited for me to draw level and I was glad to see he took no offence. 'I'm from a little town near Parnilesse originally.' He offered me his hand over a slippery patch. 'My family are farmers. I didn't fancy life with a hoe so I joined the Duke's militia. We spent one season allied with Triolle against Draximal and the next we were fighting Triolle along with Marlier. I soon worked out that His Grace wasn't going to reunite Lescar short of a major plague killing everyone else off, so I struck out on my own. I made a good bit mining but it's not so easy to keep it up here. I headed south four years back.'

We reached the river bank and saw Shiv studying the trunks of the beeches while Ryshad was poking about in a tangle of wood caught by a fallen tree.

'The high water mark's even further up here,' Shiv was saying.

'Here, look at this.' Ryshad pulled something out of the shallows and we all went over to examine a piece of beam, shingles still hanging from rusted nails.

'I'm sure this is fascinating, but would you mind explaining why to an ignorant town-dweller?' I asked politely.

'This river's flooding on a regular basis and the water's going unusually high,' Shiv said, as if that made everything clear.

'And it shouldn't be?' I hazarded.

'Of course not.' Shiv caught himself and shook his head. 'I'm sorry. No, it shouldn't be doing this amount of damage, not this far up its course.'

'No offence, Shiv, but I've lived in these mountains,' Aiten said hesitantly. 'When these rivers are in spate with the snow melt, they rise like a boiling kettle.'

'I'm taking that into account,' Shiv assured him. 'It's still not natural. Look, there are buildings being washed out further upstream. This is part of a roof! How many people would be stupid enough to build below the high water mark?'

Personally, I've known people stupid enough to set their feet on fire trying to dry their boots, but after the little display at the village, I had to reckon Shiv knew his business. That reminded me of something.

'How did you know about their silver mining, Shiv?'

He laughed. 'Planir told me about it. He thought we might need to sweeten a few people up here. He's an earth mage by affinity, so he sees that kind of thing when he's scrying.'

That sounded a useful talent; I bet he wasn't a wizard short of coin. 'So why can't he just tell us where this Azazir is?'

'There are difficulties with the correlation of elemental combinations with the distances involved. It's complicated.'

Shiv wasn't usually given to such vague answers and did not look me in the eye as he remounted. I followed on thoughtfully as we headed deeper into the increasingly tangled woods.

Shiv's little pageant had been the high spot of the day and, as we headed still further away from any possibility of a real bed and a bath, it began to rain. It was not heavy but a fine drizzle, though I soon discovered it left you just as wet. I stared gloomily at the beads of moisture glinting on Russet's ears and for about the tenth time since we'd left Inglis I started to wonder just what I was doing here. We picked our way along the narrowing trails until the light got too dim for the treacherous going underfoot and we made camp. The temperature dropped like a stone that night and we woke freezing cold, stiff as boards and totally unimpressed. Even the mule was starting to look miffed.

We pushed on higher and further and things went from bad to worse as the rain grew heavier and the air colder. We didn't even manage to finish eating the bread before it developed great smug spots of mould and we lost half the fruit when the mule had a fall when its harness slipped, the sodden leather straps slackening as they stretched. We decided to risk cooking flatbread even though the flour had soaked down into an unappetising gluey mass; the next day proved us wrong as, one after another, we had to dash for the undergrowth with racking stomach cramps. We endured two days where meal breaks were spent drinking and collecting large, moist leaves rather than eating, but once the squits had passed we were able to make better progress.

I must have read a handful of Lescari romances and heard twice that many ballads about quests through the wilderness after this magical amulet or that lost princess and not one has mentioned what a miserable business it can be. I began to dream about hearing cobbles under Russet's hooves again. Unfortunately, I also dreamed about Geris and that was pretty much the only thing that kept me from turning round and heading back towards warmth and dry clothes.

Shiv rode through it all oblivious and I'd swear he wasn't getting as wet as the rest of us somehow. Ryshad and Aiten put up with all the discomforts without visible irritation, which only goes to prove how insensitive men can be. They finally lost their composure one miserable afternoon but it didn't really make me feel any better.

Lips thin with irritation, Ryshad was busy with his usual routine, trying to clean tiny spots of rust off his sword, while Aiten went off into the tangled thickets to try and catch some rabbits or squirrels for dinner. Shiv was off communing with the puddles or something, and I was sorting through the luggage, checking Russet and the mule for harness galls and trying to get the worst of the mud and leaves off their legs.

'Do you really think it's worth carrying this?' I looked at the rusty roll of my chainmail with distaste. Just looking at it made my shoulders ache and I would smell like a bag of old horseshoes besides.

Ryshad shrugged. 'It's no use on the mule's back. Wear it or dump it.'

'It's filthy,' I grumbled. 'I'll freeze in it and it weighs a sack-weight. It stinks too.'

Ryshad waved a wire brush at me. 'Clean it and oil it if you want.'

I looked from him to the chainmail and back again, on the verge of full-scale sulks. I didn't want practical advice, I wanted sympathy, understanding and someone else to tell me it was all right to dump the evil stuff.

'You don't wear mail,' I said accusingly.

He tapped his thick buff coat and I was surprised to hear a solid knock. 'Coat of plates,' he explained, shrugging out of it and letting me feel the metal discs sewn between the leather and the linen lining.

'That looks more comfortable,' I admired. 'Where can I get one?'

'Nowhere this side of the Dalas. I got mine in Zyoutessela.'

'Is that where you're from originally? Tell me about it. Is it true you can see the ocean and the Sea of Lescar at the same time?' I could do with going somewhere warm, civilised and exotic even if it was only on the back of someone else's memories.

Ryshad sat back and forgot his work for a moment. 'Well, you can if you climb a tower the Den Rannions have built at the top of the pass. The two anchorages are in fact quite a way apart, I suppose they're more like two cities joined by the portage way, what with the mountains in the middle. We live on the ocean side, my father's a mason, a tenant of Messire D'Olbriot. The patron owns about a third of the land on that side and has a fifth share in the portage way.'

Perhaps I should think about working for him, after all. Ryshad was talking massive wealth.

'Do many ships risk the route round the Cape of Winds rather than paying to transfer their cargo?' I remembered the sleek Dalasorian ships in Inglis.

'Some do in the summer but a lot come back as wreckage on the autumn tides.'

Ryshad gave his sword one last polish with an oily rag and went to sheathe it. It stuck unexpectedly and he swore as he jarred his arm.

'Now what's wrong?' He stripped off sword-belt and scabbard and examined them closely.

'Dast's teeth!' He wrenched the scabbard free and began peering down the length of it. 'It's warped! Can you believe it? I've had this five years and one lousy trip to Gidesta ruins it.'

He sat and began unpicking the leather covering the wood, cursing under his breath, as Aiten came crashing back into the glade, ripping clinging snarls of vegetation off himself with loud exasperation.

'I can't find a thing out there,' he announced. 'I've seen no tracks smaller than water-deer and a wild goat.'

'I'll eat goat,' I shrugged.

'Not tonight you won't.' Aiten threw a broken tangle of wood and binding on to the fire where it hissed and spat.

'That's your bow!' I objected.

'And the only way I could kill anything with it would be to creep up behind and club it to death.' Aiten rummaged in his saddle bag for a flask of spirits. 'It's as twisted as that mule's back leg. It's all this pissing rain. Where's Shiv? He's supposed to be a water mage, why can't he do something about this ungodly weather?'

He tried to warm his hands by our miserable fire. At least the bow had raised a few feeble flames. I left them to it and went in search of Shiv. He was crouched over a deep pool of water but when I peered over his shoulder, all I saw were complex patterns of ruby, amber, sapphire and emerald light. He stood upright and rubbed the small of his back.

'Did you want me for something?'

'Ait can't find anything for dinner. He was wondering if you could do anything about this weather, stop the rain for a bit.'

Shiv grimaced. 'Sony, weather magic's well out of my league. It takes a whole nexus of power and at least four mages.'

I sighed. 'It was worth a try. What are you doing?'

Shiv turned back to his pool. 'I'm looking at the elemental distortions around here. The water power's been tied up in some fascinating ways.'

'How so?'

Shiv gave me a distinctly shifty look. 'It's complicated, you wouldn't understand.'

I looked at him, eyes narrowed as lurking suspicion crept up from the back of my mind. 'Are you sure? It wouldn't have anything to do with all the things that have warped or rusted or rotted lately, would it?'

'All right, it does,' he admitted. 'Still, it means we're on the right trail, doesn't it? If Azazir is taking the trouble to try and discourage us.'

'As far as I'm concerned, he's succeeding,' I growled. 'So have you any idea how much further we must go?'

Shiv moved to the river bank and pointed higher into the hills. 'See that double outcrop above the rock fall? I think he's somewhere just beyond that.'

I didn't look at the hill so much as the grey mass of storm clouds seething above it. I frowned as I tried to work out what was wrong with what I was seeing.

'Shiv, those clouds aren't going anywhere,' I said slowly. 'Look, they're just going round and round in circles. That doesn't make sense. The wind's blowing a northerly gale up there, you can see it from the trees.'

'Is it?'

His air of surprise didn't fool me. 'You said a wizard couldn't do weather magic on his own,' I accused him.

'No, he can't.' I really did not want to hear the note of uncertainty in Shiv's voice. 'Well, he shouldn't be able to.'