Wizards Conclave

Chapter 8
Passing through Palanthas

Jenna was already walking as the teleport spell faded around her. The lingering wisps of sparkling light quickly evanesced into nothingness. She crossed the anteroom of her villa, her temper foul and her skin clammy. Her assistant, Rupert, stood nearby, as usual having uncannily anticipated her arrival. He came forward to take the heavy cloak as his mistress sniffed in annoyance.

"Kendermore was even worse than Kothas," she declared haughtily. "Not a true wizard to be found in either place, though there are quite a few pretenders. Wild sorcery, on the other hand, is everywhere."

"The minotaurs, as you suspect, are making trouble?"

"Very much," Jenna said, with a shake of her head. "But that's not my problem."

"And the humans in the east, the caliph's realm?" inquired Rupert. "You had no luck there, as well?"

"They might as well be barbarians!" snapped the Red Robe. "Their women are kept locked away, or else put up for sale. And the men are so busy cheating each other that they wouldn't know real magic if it turned them into toads!"

"That is unfortunate, my lady. I do hope you will not lose faith."

Jenna sighed. "In truth, the people are as backward everywhere," she declared. "Simply ignorant of the ways of real magic. Perhaps our gods were gone away for too long."

"I trust that is not the case," Rupert said solemnly. "Keep heart, my lady! As I recall, this is no less than you expected."

"No, you're right," Jenna said, pulling the pins out of her bun, letting her gray hair-as soft and luxurious as a much younger woman's-cascade across her shoulders. "But I suppose I had my hopes up. After all, it's been more than half a year since the gods of magic returned to the skies-surely some of my order should have emerged, somewhere on Krynn!"

"The Tower of High Sorcery might hold your answers. You still have not discovered the key?"

She shook her head again. "The Master is as stubborn as ever-if he still exists. I have concluded that, by myself, I will be unable even to find the Forest of Wayreth, much less gain access to the Tower of High Sorcery."

"Undoubtedly you will find that secret, and in good time," said the dignified servant. "For now, you should know that you have received visitors in your absence."

"Visitors? When did they arrive?"

"Only this morning, my lady."

"Well, who are they?"

"A young lady… from the country, I should say, if not the wilderness itself. And"-Rupert sniffed audibly-"a kender."

Jenna chuckled for the first time all day. "Well, maybe things are about to get more interesting. Where are they?"

"I took the precaution of having them wait in the breeze-way. I posted several of your men-at-arms there, as well."

Jenna crossed the wide hall and threw open the doorway to the outer porch, the balcony where she so often enjoyed the breezes coming off the Bay of Branchala.

"Moptop Bristlebrow!" she declared, immediately recognizing the diminutive visitor. She nodded at the two stout guardsmen who stood within an arm's reach to either side of the kender. "You two can go now," she allowed. Then she turned her attention to the second visitor, a dark-haired girl-or young woman-who regarded her with a strange mixture of curiosity and aloofness.

"Welcome to you both," Jenna said. "And what brings you the Red Manor of Palanthas?"

Coryn was staring at the most striking woman she had ever seen. This Jenna had graying hair that was nevertheless lush and full, and the smooth skin of her face belied her apparent age. She wore many necklaces, and an array of jewels, feathers, and precious rings dangled from them. More rings adorned her well-manicured fingers, and she wore a robe of deep red that swished easily as she walked, like soft velvet.

It took a second before the girl realized that Mistress Jenna-the lady she had been sent to meet-had asked her a question. Hastily she curtsied, at least insofar as she had guessed how to fake a curtsy, and replied. "I am Coryn Brinefolk, from the village of Two Forks in the Icereach. My grandmother is Scharon Fallow. She sent me to find you-she asked Moptop to bring me here from the Icereach, and she said that I should give you this-"

"Scharon Fallow!" Jenna practically shouted and reached for the scroll that Coryn pulled, still sealed by Umma's wax stamp, from her knapsack. She extended it to Jenna with a shaking hand, hoping that, maybe, Jenna would tell her what her grandmother had written.

Jenna inspected the seal for a moment then broke the wax. She unrolled the parchment and read intensely, stopping only once to look up and fix a penetrating glance on Coryn. The girl squirmed under the scrutiny, but felt no relief as the older woman returned her attention to Umma's note. When Jenna looked up again, it was to offer the kender a disarming smile.

"Thank you, Moptop. I appreciate the job you have done-go and help yourself to whatever you'd like from the kitchen." The smile faded to a more inscrutable expression, as she turned back to Coryn. "Come with me," she said.

"Yes, Ma'am," said the girl, hastily picking up her knapsack and following Jenna through the door.

The room they entered was, simply, the largest enclosed space Coryn had ever seen. "Oh, my," she murmured.

"You don't have houses like this in Two Forks?" asked Jenna, in a serious tone.

"No, my lady. Nor in any of the places we passed through on the way to Palanthas."

Cory's mind had been filled with wonders in the past weeks, during the trek that the kender had taken her on through ancient Tarsis, through a decrepit seaport and aboard ship to cross the Newsea, and, just this very dawn, into the crowded streets of Palanthas. Throughout the journey, Moptop had maintained a steady chatter. He cheerfully informed her of nearby places where terrifying monsters had lurked, the sites of horrific battles and massacres throughout history, scenes of wrack and ruin brought about by the First Cataclysm, and seemingly innumerable dangers lurking just beyond every hillcrest, each bend in the road, any given swell of the sea.

Yet the kender's account had been utterly fearless and entertaining, and this had helped Cory to keep her own fright in check. Without qualm, she had confronted the rowdy young men in Tarsis. She had held her tongue and maintained her pride in the face of rude questioning from the captain of a passenger ship at Newport, and when one of the sailors had proved overly bold, she had cut him with her skinning knife. The kender had escorted her through those forests she had once dreamed about, until the woodlands seemed to go on so far that she was afraid it would never end.

But nothing had prepared her for the splendors of this place, the wonders of what must certainly be the greatest city in the world. So far she had beheld marbled edifices that loomed like mountains to either side, gawked at the armored knights and gowned ladies of whom she had dreamed, seen horses and carriages and teams of great cattle. Dwarves and kender and elves-and even rougher types-mingled among the multitude of variegated humans. Finally they had come to the grounds of this splendid house, high on one of the hillsides just outside the great city.

And not even her view of that city had readied her for this elegant mansion. She had gaped at the gilded columns, rising to a height of two stories all around the anteroom. She had bowed clumsily to the haughty servant who had kept her and Moptop waiting on the balcony for several hours.

Now she gasped in dismay as she watched Jenna take the letter from Umma, the scroll Cory had carried across the breadth of Ansalon, and blithely drop it into the fireplace. No coals glowed there, but the dry paper instantly burst into flames. By the time the girl had followed Jenna toward the wide stairway climbing to the second level of the house, the secret letter, the message that contained the key to her journey, perhaps to her future life, was nothing but cold ash.

She bit back her disappointment as they climbed a wide stairway to the second floor. She became aware of the heavy weight of her knapsack, the strap digging into her shoulder.

"Um… my lady? Should I put my knapsack down somewhere? Is there a room where I might change my clothing?" she asked, surprised at her own boldness.

"A room? No, there won't be time for that," Jenna said curtly. "You can change here, in the parlor, and get a bite to eat in the kitchen. But we'll be leaving Palanthas before nightfall. As soon as you are ready, I need you to go to the market, down in the city. You'll have to do some shopping for the journey."

"Yes, of course," Coryn agreed, her weariness vanishing at the thought of another excursion into that exciting city. "What is it you want me to buy?"

"Mules. I should think three of them will be enough. But they must be sturdy, not too old, reasonably well fed. And take care not to overpay."

Mules? Coryn's head whirled. She had seen mules during her travels, along with all sorts of other beasts of burden, but she had no idea how to go about choosing one, much less three, of the creatures for purchase!

Jenna seemed to read her mind as she called out to Rupert, who lurked nearby. "Rupert? Is your son in the house? Perhaps Donny would be kind enough to go along with Coryn, show her where the market is-and help bring the mules back?"

"Of course, my lady. I shall summon him at once."

By the time Coryn had changed to a clean pair of trousers and gobbled down two pieces of the softest, tastiest bread she had ever tasted, a boy of about ten appeared in the kitchen. "I'm Donny," he said. "I guess I'm to take you to the market."

"Let's go get some mules," Coryn said, following him through the maze of the manor's sprawling ground floor. The lad proved to be quite a bit friendlier than either his father or Lady Jenna had been. The young woman felt no worries for her safety, only a giddy sense of wonder as Donny quickly led her down the wide avenue running past Jenna's villa.

She saw that the manor of the red-robed sorceress was, while quite splendid, merely one of dozens, a hundred or more, such grand domiciles. These structures sprawled across this dominant height to the east of the city, each commanding a magnificent view from its lofty perch. There were fountains and pools, gardens laid out in ornate mazes, formal clusters of blossoms organized with martial precision. Each of these grand houses seemed a miniature fortress, with walls and gates and towers. Guards in colorful livery were a common fixture, and she saw mounted knights-in one group more than twenty armored riders-making their way along the wide streets.

"This whole area is called Nobles Hill," Donny noted, as they made way for a group of knights. "The really rich people live here."

Soon they were passing through a gate into the city-or the Old City, as Donny explained, since many structures had been erected outside that ancient barrier. Here the streets were narrow and twisting, and though Coryn saw gardens and fountains here as well, she also saw tiny alleys reeking of filth. On the roof of one flat-topped building a half dozen men with crossbows looked menacing against the skyline, studying passersby in the street below.

"That's the Thieves Guild," Donny explained. "Those guys don't like people poking around."

His route took them past the waterfront, and Coryn quickly and vividly recognized the stench of fish guts from her own recent sea voyage. Even so, it was a wonder to see the bustling docks, fishing boats unloading holds full of the morning catch, silvery salmon flipping and thrashing as they were smoothly cleaned and wrapped in seaweed. Small carts waited nearby, and every minute or two one of these would be filled, and would trundle off to the nearby market.

That market occupied a broad plaza festooned with brightly colored awnings, small stalls, and a multitude of handcarts, the latter often shaded by a single broad umbrella. The fabrics in reds and golds, stripes and mosaics, greens like the emerald purity of winter ice in the heart of a glacier, or blue as smooth and vast as the summer sky, reminded Cory of a great field of chaotic blooms. People milled and thronged here, bought and bartered all around these makeshift stalls.

This was far more than a fish market, she saw. A weaponsmith had an array of swords laid out on a table in the afternoon sun, and one huckster was doing a thriving business offering nothing more than a glimpse of a scantily clad female dancer moving languidly in the center of a small ringed arena. Coryn recognized sheep and lambs, cows and calves, goats, poultry, and even a few horses confined in impromptu corrals. Finally she spotted a dilapidated little enclosure where a dozen mules stood, more or less contentedly.

"We have to bargain with him," Donny said distastefully, for the first time displaying a touch of hesitancy.

The "him" was a huge, pot-bellied mule skinner who wore filthy trousers and a leather vest that didn't begin to cover his hairy, sagging gut. When he spotted the pair of potential customers, he favored them with a wide smile, and Cory saw that his mouth was almost entirely devoid of teeth.

"I kin see the lady 'as a keen eye for mule flesh," he said approvingly, swaggering over to greet them. He smelled very strong, like a sour version of the liquid in Umma's special bottle of medicine. "These 'ere are splendid animals. You kin 'ave the lot of 'em for a hundred steel."

Coryn shook her head firmly. If there was one thing she knew, it was how to barter. "I want three-that one, that one, and that one." She picked out the only animals that seemed to be watching them with intelligence, a trio of black mules that continued to regard them with oversized and upraised ears.

"Like I said, you 'as a keen eye," said Bulge-Belly with a nod. "Them's my best three. Cost you seventy five for the set."

"That's ridiculous! You just said the price was a hundred for all twelve of them, and now you want seventy five for three?"

"Like I said, them's the best three."

Donny, off to the side, was shaking his head furiously. Cory drew up her chin, and glared at the man. "Twenty," she offered firmly.

He looked injured, but kept the bargaining going. She, in turn, refused to back down, and felt rather proud of herself when the deal was finally closed for twenty-eight pieces of steel. Another six pieces were required to buy harnesses, but within a few minutes Coryn and Donny were leading the docile animals back through the city.

"What does Mistress Jenna do? I mean, for a job?" Coryn ventured to ask the lad. "Or is she a noble lady, born to her manor?"

Donny looked up and laughed. "You mean you haven't heard of her?"

"No," Cory was forced to admit, embarrassed. "I mean, except from my grandmother."

"Well, she's just the greatest wizard in Palanthas, maybe the whole world!" the boy said proudly. "She is mistress of all the Red Robes!"

"A wizard?" Coryn asked wonderingly. "You mean, she makes spells from the wind, the stones, everything around her?"

Donny looked at her in pity. "Boy, you don't know much, do you? No, you're talking about sorcery. The Lady Jenna hates that. She practices real magic, the kind you learn from books, and get taught by teachers. At least, you can, now that the moons are back. That's what my pop said."

"And she is the leader of all the Red Robes? Are there many of them?"

For the first time, the youth looked unsure. "Well, there used to be. And when the moons came back-there are three of them, you know, 'cuz there's a black one you can't see-"

"I know about the three moons!" Coryn declared. He continued as if she hadn't spoken.

"But since the moons came back, Jen-I mean, the Lady Jenna-has been looking for other wizards. But she hasn't found any." His face brightened, in sudden inspiration. "I bet that's why we got the mules."

"Why?" the girl asked, wondering what mules had to do with wizards.

But Donny had already said too much, and by this time they were making their way up Nobles Hill to Jenna's house.

There she was rather surprised to find that the lady had already laid out three pairs of saddlebags, bulging with provisions. Her men-at-arms started loading them onto the animals as soon as they arrived. Coryn barely had time to run in and get her knapsack, which she lashed to one of the mules, before Jenna was saying good-bye to her servants.

"Rupert, please take charge of my affairs, as usual," she directed the majordomo. "We might be gone for a very long time."

"Of course, my lady. And may I wish you great success on your quest."

Jenna didn't offer any explanation to Coryn, but the girl was resigned to another long adventure on the road. As they started away from the villa, Jenna strolling easily in the lead while Cory led the three mules, the girl looked back at the placid animals and made a practical decision about the only thing where she seemed to have a little control.

She decided to name the mules.